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Journey To the Finish Line

PR's, 4 children, hopes and dreams; I'm always running after something

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infertility humor

Infertiles are More Fun

Yesterday I took my first birth control pill in nearly 3 years. I know this is not a new revelation, but I thought about how bizarre it is that I am going to be taking 3 weeks worth of birth control so that I can try to get pregnant. Taking a pill that is used to prevent pregnancy in order to carry out the best chance we have to get pregnant.

This means that we have officially pressed “go” on this IVF (though I totally missed the ribbon cutting ceremony….maybe I slept through it), something that only happened in my imagination until now. Surprisingly, I am not nearly as excited as I expected. I suppose I am reserving my judgement for when we get deeper into this.

In one of my previous infertility tattoo searches, I stumbled across the cafepress website, which I’ve always been a huge fan of. Any site that sells funny-borderline-on-inappropriate stuff gets two thumbs up in my book. I chuckled at some of the infertility related merchandise and then it hit me.

Infertiles’ are more fun. And here are 3 reasons why:

1. We are sex-perts.

We have to be. Seriously. Anyone on their quest this long has an extensive knowledge on the various “ways” in which the act can be done. Because I’m sorry, but you get to a point where your brothers cousin once tried it upside down and backwards while holding up her legs in the air for exactly 2.65 minutes and it worked for them! Oh wait, but my uncle’s sister’s nephew once stood on her head 10 minutes afterwards and followed it up with a glass of 1% milk. So we are gonna try it, and probably more than once. (and don’t ask me how you do it upside down and backwards – its a secret)

2. We are witty

Because we have a never ending stream of “that’s what she said” ready and waiting. Take today’s (mostly one way) conversation with my running partner for example:

Me: my tattoo is itching, but I’m not supposed to scratch it. When it really bothers me I try to rub it. Or smack it. Yeah, when I smack it or rub it, it feels better.

3. We are creative

Simply because we’ve been waiting so long to make a pregnancy announcement, we have about a million fun and creative ways to do it. I’ve thought of some cute ones, but the most recent takes the cake. While perusing cafepress that day, I came across this absolute gem of a shirt:

image credit

Oh hell yes.

If you don’t want to wear a shirt, there is always this:

image credit

Please feel free to add to the list. I need all the humor I can get in the next 6-8 weeks.

A Snowball’s Chance In Hell

Despite discovering that the IUI cycle was going to be a wash, the doc who performed my ultrasound recommended giving myself the HCG injection to induce ovulation and simply try to the old fashioned way.

I’m pretty sure I gave him a blank stare.

Then I said, “but I’m going to ovulate on the blocked side” (um, duh)

Apparently, it is possible (somehow) for the egg on my right ovary to make its way over to the left side (how this happens, I have NO idea). So hubby and I carried out our duty for humanity while he was home this weekend so we could have a snowballs chance in hell of getting pregnant.

I figure that it seems safe to say that the chances of me getting pregnant this cycle are roughly the same as winning the Mega Million Lottery. The odds of winning the Mega Million Lottery are 1 in 176 million. So just for fun, lets see some of the things that I have better odds of experiencing than a pregnancy this cycle: (info credit 1) (info credit 2)

1. Death by Vending Machine – as in the vending machine crushing me. You bet I’ll be eye balling the next vending machine I walk by, challenging its ulterior motive. (seal my Doritos and DIE woman!)

(image credit)

2. Dying in an airline related terrorist attack. Anyone up for a trip to Hawaii?

3. Having identical quadruplets – yeah.

4. Becoming president – I wonder if this changes if it were to be becoming the first woman president.

5. Dying from being left handed – watch out, dad.

6. Becoming a movie star – American Idol, here I come!!!

7. Death by flesh eating bacteria – maybe I should stop with the Zombie Chases.

(image credit)

8. Dying in an asteroid apocalypse – I’m just looking for…..um…..stars….

9. Death by legal execution – yes, really.

And my personal favorite:

10. Death by ignition or  melting of “nightwear” (read, underwear) (info credit)

So basically, I bet I have a better chance of dying from flaming underwear while I happen to be infected with a flesh eating bacteria while on my runaway “avoiding legal execution” excursion to Hollywood to begin my singing career that just happens to have a terrorist on board than I do at becoming pregnant this cycle. And if I happen to make it off the plane and haven’t yet died from my flaming undergarments or flesh eating bacteria, then the M and M’s I decide to get at the airport will certainly be the death of me, as the vending machine takes a nose dive and crushes my skull.

Sweet.

(Now, who’s lining up for a lottery ticket?)

(image credit written in image)

And We’re Off….

I should have expected it, I suppose, but didn’t really think about how quickly things move once a cycle begins. I dutifully called the RE’s office on CD 1, had an appointment for the next day and was forking over a credit card number to order medication. And just like that, our first IUI cycle starts. Maybe I expected fireworks or something(though there will be fireworks today, I’m pretty sure they aren’t for me), but its just another day in the life of everyone else.

Many people ask me if I’m excited, and honestly I have mixed feelings. I like to say that I feel “cautiously optimistic”, as this is probably going to be the best chance we’ve had so far, but still only about 20% as far as statistics show. I would never gamble money on 20% in any other situation.

Before “Bob” and I met for our third date, I had to take a pregnancy test. I get this, I mean they don’t want to start filling you up with drugs if you are pregnant, however, the cost of said pregnancy test was $48. Seriously? I could have told you I wasn’t pregnant for FREE. Actually, I would have happily brought in one of my own negative tests to save myself that ridiculous expense. Sheesh.

As it turns out, I’m not pregnant. (Oh my Gosh, shock!) While I waited for the ultrasound lady, I talked with Bob about the importance of calling for third dates and a discussion about his absenteeism. He agreed to be better and we were back in business. This ultrasound was done basically to make sure I didn’t have any foreign bodies anywhere in my reproductive system (i.e. cysts) and to count my antral follicles, which basically is the number of follicles that could potentially grow an egg. I can’t remember how many were on my right ovary, but my left had 23. Incidentally, that does NOT mean I am going to end up with 23 eggs or 23 babies. I can’t even imagine that scenario. I would have…..well, a 23 sided shape is called a icosikaitrigon (no I did NOT know this off of the top of my head, my best guess would have been to go off of 12 sides which is a dodecahedron I think, so I would have said  doubledodecaheminusoneuplets), so that would mean I would have icosikaitriuplets? I don’t even know how to pronounce that.

Anyway, things are good to go. I sat with the nurse afterwards, who went over my med calendar and showed me how to give myself shots. I’ll be taking 2.5 mg of Femara (it induces ovulation) today through Sunday and will give myself two injections of Follistim (also stimulates ovulation) Sunday and Monday. I go back for another ultrasound (Bob actually scheduled the date this time…he is learning) next Tuesday (CD 9) to check the growth status. It looks as though the actual IUI will happen sometime between July 12-14th, if all goes well.

Here goes nothing.

Talk About Awkward

A few months ago when we thought we would be pursing the IVF route this Spring or Summer, I had a sit down with my boss. This couldn’t be avoided because I was going to need to ask for flexibility regarding my schedule as well as several days off. I was nervous about this conversation, but mostly because I was going to need up to a week off and I wasn’t going to be able to say exactly when until possibly less than 24 hours beforehand. I even explained the process of an IVF with the greatest of ease (or at least it felt that way).

A few days ago, we got the official go ahead to do an IUI cycle. We had talked about trying 2 more months naturally and then trying an IUI, but that would have meant it would fall right around my birthday. I decided I would rather enjoy my 30th birthday and have a couple glasses of wine (hey, you only turn 30 once) than concern myself wondering if I should drink because I could possibly maybe be pregnant. No thanks.

The start of my next cycle is still over 2 weeks away and nothing is going to happen until then, however, it meant I had to have another conversation with my boss to explain why I might need to take a couple of hours off with not much notice. Because he was already aware of our situation, I was hoping this would be a simple conversation where I could just say we had decided to try a slightly different route and that while I wasn’t going to need any full days off I would need some flexibility for ultrasounds. I was hoping to do this without any additional detail and be on my merry way.

So, I begin my conversation by saying that obviously we had not gone forward with the IVF as planned, but were going to try an IUI and so I would need possibly a few hours 2-3 times for the procedure and ultrasounds.

Then he asked me what an IUI was.

Now I’m not a shy person. I don’t  usually have issues talking about myself or using words that are in reference to the male/female reproductive system, even to men.

Him: So what’s an IUI?

Me: Well….basically the sp.erm are, like, inserted into……uh…so they still have to make the swim and fertilize and implant, but it bypasses….*awkward pause*…..the V (I used the whole word and said it as quickly as humanly possible) and straight into the cervix. It’s not as successful but it’s also less expensive.

Him: ok, well, just let me know.

Me: I will. Wish us luck.

I exit. I get into the car, and then I think OMG, I just said the word V to my boss. My male boss. Then I told him to wish us luck. *facepalm*

Well, you asked.

~~

In other news, our floors are DONE, and they look FABULOUS! Pictures to come once we clean up the tornado that ran through the inside of our house and wipe the fine layer of sawdust from all of the hard surfaces.

A Second Date with Bob

Bob and I, perhaps unfortunately, are going to become good friends.

The first time I met Bob, it was a year go, at our first visit to the fertility clinic. Feeling a little bitter,and slightly overwhelmed, I didn’t really welcome Bob’s quick advances on our first date, and so didn’t even bother to learn his name.  I mean, I’m not THAT easy.

Today I went in for a re-draw of my Day 3 labs, to check certain hormone levels on the 3rd day of my cycle. Apparently, I also needed another baseline ultrasound.

Enter Bob, the ultrasound wand.

While seated on the exam table, naked from the waist down, I waited for the nurse to perform the ultrasound. For those who are unfamiliar, I’m not referring to the kind of ultrasound you see on tv that goes over the stomach, I’m talking about the one that has a face to face with my girly parts. (internal ultrasound)People always talk about the dil.do cam, and while I vaguely recalled chuckling to Bryan a year ago that it did, in fact, really closely resemble one, I sat with Bob today, and decided I needed to make peace with his advances on our first date, because today was going to be the second of many.

The nurse entered, and out of slight nervousness I uttered “has anyone told you that thing looks like a dil.do?” (because I apparently thought I was the first person to ask such a witty question). She chuckled anyway and told me “yeah, we call him Bob”.

I should have gotten a picture with Bob.

He still didn’t even bother to introduce himself before making his advance*. Men. AND charged me a horribly high fee for his intrusion. Not even a cheap date.

Till we meet again, Bob. Next time, at least kiss me first………on second thought, nevermind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Apparently, everything looks ok. No activity on the ovaries, since its so early in the cycle. 15 follicles on one and 12 on the other. Uterus apparently looks good. No cysts.  At least Bob was able to tell me something productive. Not much else is going to be done until my next cycle. I’ve been taking the Metformin for a week no with no issues thus far. We’re still mulling over the financial aspect and I’m going to run in a couple 5 k’s in the mean time. One on Saturday!

 

 

Gonna be a long ride

I spend alot of time in my car.

Which is odd because I really don’t like to drive. But since I graduated and started working I’ve had jobs that have required either alot of driving or long commutes. Since I bought my car in April of 2009, I’ve put 62000 miles on it.

That’s alot of driving. Granted, its not all work. It’s been driven to Florida, Ohio, and most notably a trip this summer for some continuing education. I woke up at the hotel the first morning and walked out to my car to find this:

Yeah, that’s underwear. And no, its not mine. Baxter and I (yes, I named my car….don’t judge) have obviously been through alot together.

For my current job I spend about 60% of the time seeing kids in clinic, and 40% of the time either seeing them in their home, or traveling to or from. Fortunately or unfortunately, this leaves me with quite a bit of time to think. Admittedly, I spend alot of it worrying. Mostly about infertility and whether I’m emotionally and financially strong enough for what it might take to have children. Actually it kinda cycles by my cycle. Early on I’m bitter, then hopeful as we move towards ovulation, as we move towards the end I’m a variation of hopeful and sad for the arrival of my unwanted visitor. I’ve imagined so many pregnancy announcement scenarios that I’m pretty much covered if I decide to become like the Duggars. Be prepared, right?

I’m two days from D-Day, and I’m tired of preparatory sadness (yeah, I really do that). So I need to distract myself. In the early morning the radio is a good distraction. I enjoy listening to a local morning show and chuckling at the daily “phone scam”. After that, though, it’s all kind of hit or miss.

Take today for instance:

For the most part I listen to Top 40 type stations. Except I’m pretty sure I don’t hear 40 different songs. Just the same 10 on repeat. I’ve heard Adele so many times that it makes a downlowd-so-I-can-learn-the-words completely unnecessary. After hearing “Move like Jagger” for the 387634th time, I decide it’s time to move on. (moooooooooooove like Jagger!)

Click.

My windows are down so I can’t really hear the music right away. Then I realize I’ve stumbled upon one of the stations that plays nothing but Christmas music from November on. And, ironically, is playing “Its beginning to look alot like Christmas”. Except its 75 degrees outside. (NOT complaining!) It’s been uncharacteristically warm here lately, and if it weren’t for the dead leaves floating around and the invention of the calendar, I would have thought it was Spring. I think we need to write an Its Beginning to Look Alot Like Christmas, South Carolina version:

It’s beginning to look alot like Christmas

Shorts in every store

Take a look at your snowy globe

Drive around with it as you go

Cuz that’s the only way that you’ll see snow

(again, not complaining…..I hate snow. But really, its not beginning to look anything like Christmas in this weather)

Click.

Commercials. UGH. I swear, too, that every station plays commercials at the same time on purpose. Unfortunately multiple clicks later, I’m still listening to commercials. And its trying to get me to buy a car. I’m good to go for awhile, luckily (and even have some spare underwear), but even as much as I try to tune them out, I can’t help but catch some of it. And it’s claiming that it will approve anyone with a job who makes $300 a week! No credit check!

Anyone else no longer confused about why we are in a recession?

To digress a bit, for some reason this reminds me of the TV commercials for antidepressants and the like. “I was still depressed until my doctor recommended such and such and then I really felt better.” Well, that’s awesome (seriously) but then there’s the laundry list of side effects (tell your doctor if you experience tremors, suicidal tendencies or symptoms of stroke….). Yeah, sign me right up.

Actually, maybe they are onto something. You know what commercials could use that disclaimer? Target. Can anyone else not go into Target for 1 thing and come out with 6? I can see it now…..la de da….sale at Target. Then disclaimer (only bring cash if you cannot keep control of your credit card. Maybe shoppers have reported experiencing “how did I end up with this much stuff?” syndrome. This was particularly prevalent in teens and women in their mid thirties….)

Okay, back on topic.

Once I’m finally able to find a (or half of) a good song, I sing along. Whitey Houston eat your heart out. I’ve just about finished my performance and am accepting my thunderous applause when I realize something.

Huh. You know what? I’m at my destination.

Well, maybe it’s a bit delusional but at least I’m not worrying anymore.

 

 

My glass has wine, so who cares?

I realized recently, while looking at my fertility friend calendar, that mother nature can be really cruel.

The end of my current cycle, and the due date of my next unwanted visitor is Thanksgiving Day.(and likely Christmas, also) Meaning that come Thanksgiving, I’m either going to be thankful for everything on earth, or thankful for whoever is refilling my glass of wine. (Riesling, please!)

My first instinct is to approach this situation with the mindset that it’s probably not going to happen anyway, so I might as well just expect the visitor to show up. However, according to The Secret, I’m supposed to be practicing picturing myself holding a positive test come Turkey Day (and I don’t mean positive for massive food overconsumption)

Which brings me to my question. Believe the glass is half full, or half empty?


To be fair, I’m not an always positive, always look on the bright side,run skipping through fields while holding hands in the sunshine kind of person. Bryan would more than likely pin me as a glass half empty kind of person. I tend to look at things as “hope for the best, prepare for the worst”, which I think would probably be interpreted as more pessimistic.

I like to say, because I’m both argumentative and sarcastic, that I’m being realistic. I would claim here that the glass just has half. However, there is a somewhat legit fight for both sides here.

Everyone knows the claim that positive thinking = a happier person and that finding the best in the worst situation causes less stress and depression. Heck, even the Secret claims that the universe essentially answers your thoughts, whether positive or negative.(i.e. glass half full)

On the other hand, as ANNOYING as it can be to hear “just quit trying and it’ll happen”, its uncanny the number of times I’ve heard that exact thing has happened.  (i.e.  situation hopeless or glass half empty)

Bryan is a bit more glass half full, so you can probably see where we might butt heads here. I’m trying to explain the logic and statistics of the situation, and he thinks I’m being too negative. The is part of the reason why things like The Secret are difficult for me to grasp. I’m too logical.  Being the type of person that also needs to have the last word (do not!), it’s kind of an issue that ends at the stalemate. We agree to disagree.

Since this wouldn’t be my blog if I didn’t say or do something like a smart@$$, I’m going to completely disregard the entire fight for both sides and say my glass has wine in it, so who cares?

Also, I totally want ice cream now, so if I have ice cream too, the above is even more true.

If you’re cool, you’ll take my poll:

An Ode to Pinterest

Well crap. I got sucked in. I joined Pinterest

It just got really overwhelming, you know? All these people constantly asking for my ever so crafty home ideas and one of my many many homemade recipes. So I just figured hey, I can pin them and share my domesticated goddess ideas with the world!

Yeah, I’m not crafty, and I hate cooking, so that’s a lie.

Actually it was because I came across quite a few things that really made me laugh (or at least chuckle) out loud. And I really think that one thing I can rely on to help me maintain my sanity through infertility (because my ovaries appear to be on strike right now) is humor. Plus? Qualanayraynaynasha? How can you not laugh at that?

So if you’re not familiar with pinterest, its kind of like a virtual corkboard where you can save and share anything and everything that you find interesting from re decorating ideas to quotes to pictures and funny sayings and everything in between. And there are some pretty creative people out there. A number of times I’ve said to myself “man, what a COOL idea!”. I’m more in search of funny and humor but I’m sure I’ll find something that I want to make and will probably never get around to.

The problem with pinterest is that you can totally lose track of all time and reality. Haven’t had breakfast? Ok, just one more page on pintrest. Late for work? Ok just let me “like” this? Gotta pee? Wait that pin is really funny!

So to you, pinterest, I write an Ode.

A place to share your craftiness

And favorite recipes

Yes I know its dinner time, can you

Just hold on a minute please

A place to share your favorite books

And the best way to do your hair

Despite the fact that the day is gone

And you haven’t left your chair

A place to see what your friends like

And share your favs with them

A place to find what makes you laugh

Oh crap, its 3am.

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