A Whole Lot of Nuttin

I need to have some diarreah of the mind tonight...

The other day, a patient's mom mentioned that her daughter's speech therapist was on maternity leave. Her daughter asked what a maternity leave was and after explaining it she said "Lisa's going to have one of those next year." I said, "Oooooh, let's hope so." And she said, "Oh I'm good at these things. You will." Her daughter, who has developmental delays, started in with the "You have a baby? A baby in your tummy?" That was fun.  I almost told her what to do with her crystal ball.

The student loan nightmare continues.  I think I'll blog about that tomorrow.  It's really fun to have umpteen things that you can't control going on at one time.  It's even more fun when it involves the government taking money from your checking account all willy nilly because of a "glitch in the system."

The Victoria's Secret runway show thingy is on.  Nicky Minaj looks completely ridiculous.  I'm happy to hear my husband frequently saying things like, "That girl needs to eat!"

Speaking of husband, he set up this spectacular workout area in our garage.  We moved the treadmill out there because... well... giant piece of exercise equipment wasn't part of the aesthetic I was going for in the living room.  But now that it's out there, I don't use it!  I get bored staring at the wall.  So the hubs put in a shelf for my laptop so I can watch Hulu when I run!  And he's got this whole setup going where you pull the car out, put down the treadmill deck, pull out a few mats and there's a whole freakin' gym in minutes!  He's brilliant!

I just submitted the second revision on the first scientific paper I've completed as first author.  That's enough to keep me up all night.  I think what makes me craziest is the thought that after 3 years of research and writing and two revisions they can just pitch it out the window.  I'd bawl my eyes out.  One more thing out of my control at the moment.

Ahhhh! 

Thanks for reading my random drivel.  Peace out.

Music Mondays

Right now, while I'm waiting for this damned cyst to clear so I can get on with my life, I feel like I'm just kinda... well, I'll let Sarah B tell you all about it.  Sing it sister.

An Infertility Bedtime Conversation

Me: "This whole infertility thing has done a real number on the sack time hasn't it?"
Him: "Yup"
Me: "I'm sorry."
Him: "It's okay.  We'll get back there again."
Me:  "Just... think of it like fishing."
Him: "Fishing?"
Me: "Yeah.  Like if a fisherman kept going fishing, but he knew that there weren't any fish in the pond, it wouldn't be worth going anymore, would it?"
Him: "Well, what if the fisherman doesn't really care about the fish.  Maybe he likes going fishing for other reasons."
Me: "Like what?"
Him: "Well, you know.  Peacefulness, relaxation.  Maybe he just likes spending time with the pond."
Me: "Okay, let's go with that.  Let's think about the pond.  How does the pond feel? She certainly doesn't feel very fishing-pond-esque.  She doesn't feel very... I mean, she probably really loves the fisherman, but she knows she can't give him what he really wants out of his visit.  She must feel kind of sad when she's there."
Him: "Well, maybe the pond just needs to realize that there are other things she's giving the fisherman that are more important than the fish and if he keeps coming back, he must not be too concerned about the fish."

Cute, but I'm still having a hard time looking past the pond scum.

Pervy Waitress and Why I Hate Tennis

Last night, we went out to dinner and after we finished, the waitress asked if we'd saved room for dessert.  We said no and I added, "We've had enough dessert the last few days to last us awhile."  She didn't laugh, just paused and then said, "My mind is so dirty I took that completely the wrong way."

Well that's a stretch, pervy waitress.

Ah, if she only knew.

***************

I decided awhile back that Mr. Right and I needed a "thing."  You know, a hobby that we do together.  We both have varied intrests, but not really one that we share.  We tried running, and we still do run, but we both despise doing it, so that doesn't count.  He was a big tennis player back in the day.  I failed tennis lessons as a child and was asked not to return because I was so bad.  But he thought he could rehabilitate me, and so we attempted to make that our "thing."  Today was lesson number 2.  After I spent a good 10 minutes pouting around the court, this is how it ended.

Me: "I hate tennis."
Him: "But you're cute when you pout."
Me: "I don't like doing things I'm bad at.  I suck at running, I suck at making babies, and I suck at tennis."
Him: "Come on now, or I'm going to pop you in the nose."
Me: "I'm good at breaking my nose.  You should do it."

So tennis is not going to be our thing.  We went on a long walk with the mutt and after I tried popping the "It's A Boy" balloons we encountered on the way, he asked me why I thought we needed to have  a thing.  I didn't really know.  I just thought we should.  After we talked it out more, I said "Well, I guess I just thought that raising a family would be our thing and since we don't have that..."  He stopped and said, "I don't think you're really concerned with having a thing.  I think what you're really doing is trying to find a substitute for us for what we really truly want and that's not going to happen."

The bastard is right.  Again. (Don't tell him I said that.)

So how do you fill your time constructively in order to stay busy while going through all of this crap?  I could bury myself in work.  That's what I used to do when I was single, but I'd rather share my time with my hubby.  I could also eat.  I'm very good at stress eating and I like to do things I'm good at.  I'm also good at getting fat, so that's a problem.  I'd love to hear what y'all do.

The Barbie Bullshit

While I bought most Christmas gifts online, I wanted to hit Ta.rget up to see what toys look like right about now.  See, my sister and I don't have a very good history, but she doesn't ship back gifts I send her kids anymore and this will be the first time in a long time that I am able to send them Christmas gifts.  My niece is 3 and when I saw the Bar.bies I thought, "She's getting to that age.  That could be a good one."  My friends, I felt like I stepped back in time.  My grandmother was rolling over in her grave just because I stepped into the aisle.  I consider myself a pretty liberated woman.  I have a doctorate for crap's sake.  I don't consider myself crazy with the feminism.  To me, it just means that I have as many choices with my life as a man does.  So it made me completely nauseous to see the "I Can Be" line consisting of "Art Teacher," "Baby Caregiver," "Ballroom Dancer," and "Ballerina."  Not that there's anything wrong with these professions, but like I told my husband "Where the hell is the Astrophysicist?"

According to Amazon, there are more options; however, they are given names like "Pony Doctor."  The "Newborn Baby Doctor," which I guess is a neonatologist, was wearing a mini-skirt.

REALLY? 

On the web, I saw Architect and Computer Engineer, but there were way more options like "Rock Star," "Skier," and "Movie Star."

When did we stop teaching little girls that there is more to life than pretties and care giving? Or did we never start in the first place?   And I sure as hell give my niece enough credit to be able to learn to word "Veterinarian."  Geez!

I Got An Award!

I'm so excited!  Thanks Amanda from My Life in a Nut Shell!  I feel so honored!

Liebster is a German word meaning dearest, and the award is given to up-and-coming bloggers with less than 200 followers.

Here are the rules:

1. Thank the giver and link back to the blogger who gave it to you.
2. Reveal your top five picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
3. Copy and paste the award on your blog.
4. Hope that the people you've sent the award to forward it to their five favorite bloggers and keep it going!

Here are the 5 I'd like to give awards to!
1.  The Cornfed Feminist - because even though she's dealing with a whole load of crap, she manages to make the rest of us laugh.
2.  Gee at Geebaby - Another one that makes me laugh.  I love her dry sense of humor and taste in TV.
3.  Ginger and Lime - I love how she writes and what she makes me ponder.
4.  M. at A Miracle in the Works because she's a sweetheart and I like following her story.
5.  Lindsey at Adventures of Endo (& Pregnancy) In The Arctic - because she is embarking on a new journey and deserves more cheerleading.

Thanks again, Amanda!

Giving the Green Eyed Monster a Smackdown

The back story:  We didn't do a big "We're trying" announcement like some people do.  #1 It really bugs me when people do that.  Like we need to know your sex life now has purpose. #2 I'd been told I might have a hard time getting pregnant so no need to throw all of that out in the universe. #3 We started before the wedding... so it was a little redneck of us.  (Please see #2 for an explanation of the pre-wedding procreation attempts). Okay that's it for the backstory.

A friend of mine got married last fall and announced her pregnancy a couple of weeks before my wedding.  She was a bridesmaid.  She was only about 5 weeks along when she told us, but didn't want to be announcing anything at the wedding, which was nice of her.  At that point we'd been trying for a few months and I was learning about charting.  She got pregnant on her first try.  Even though we had only been at it for a few months, I was jealous.  I hated feeling that way.  I really hated it.  She was my friend and I should be nothing but thrilled for her, right?

I got my period on my wedding day.  Not a fun day for AF to rear her ugly head.  But it was the happiest day of my life and not even the witch was able to take me down.  Since it was a wedding and my bridesmaid was newly pregnant, the talk around the table naturally moved to pregnancy and we could at least admit that we wanted a family right away.  I have to say, that hearing the baby talk among the THREE women seated at our table who all got pregnant on their first tries (four pregnancies total) made me super thankful for Mr. Right's gentle hand squeezes.  So when my newly pregnant friend was telling me how ridiculous temping was and that all you had to do was have sex every other day, I gave pause, but thought that maybe she was right.

Now I know better, but I still want to poke her eyeballs out and I hate that. 

She didn't know what I was going through and she still doesn't.  She can't know.  Do I wish she could have been more empathetic in that moment and the moments since?  Sure.  But it really isn't her problem.  It's mine.  My jealousy is my problem.  I don't want to be jealous, but I don't know how.

She emailed a couple of months ago to be sure I was alive.  I told her we were starting treatment.  I admitted I was jealous and I apologized for being a shitty friend.  I told her I was happy for her and excited to play auntie, but that I was having a hard time.  And she was great.  She really was.  She said that she wanted us to have a baby, said she was praying for us, and offered her love and support.  Have I been a better friend since then?  Nope.

Now she's about to drop said baby any day.  I can't even manage to buy him a gift.  I want to.  I'm excited for her and I really am looking forward to this little guy joining our circle.  Man that jealousy mountain is large.

When I know someone struggled for a pregnancy, I have no problem being nothing but excited and happy for them.  When they got pregnant by sneezing, it's another story.  When it comes to this friend, I don't want to just swallow it and put on a smile.  It really isn't her problem and I don't want to be so self centered.  She deserves everyone around her to be happy and all about her right now.

So how do I become a genuinely shiny happy person?

A Weekend with the Fam

I know, it's Monday and I'm not making it a "Music Monday," but I don't have rehearsal tonight and it's my blog.  So there!

We just put my mom on a plane to head home from our "Fake Thanksgiving" here at our house.  My brother and his girlfriend and making moony eyes at each other on the couch across from me.  They're cute.  I hope he keeps her.

This was the first time we had family time since our diagnosis and it was so great.  I didn't even expect it.  I was so nervous and had Mr. Right on the alert.  He was ready to defend me, to stick up for me, and the block any criticism that was thrown my way.  But there was none.  My mom and I talked about what we've been going through a little.  I think she was more interested in getting a good gauge on how I'm doing more than anything else.  My brother just asked a quick minor question (and seems to think that medications will for sure equal a baby, but what do you expect from a 27 year old dude) and that was it.  There was love and support and more laughter than I've had in a long time.  It felt so good to hear my mom comment on our "wonderful marriage."  My mom!  Being not critical!  It was really cathartic and I suddenly felt very jealous of people who have family nearby.  Just having them here has been great.  I hope it tides me over.

But there were three dogs here and Holy Moses does my house smell like dog.

And even if it's lame and not very feminist, I loved being all wifey and making a nice big Thanksgiving dinner with the trimmings.  Sometimes I feel like my wifeness is seriously compromised by infertility, and I really loved doing something stereotypically wifelike.

So this sucks

Cycle canceled.  I have a 3 cm cyst on my right ovary.  I'm so frustrated and sad and angry right now.  I felt like I was finally taking some control back.  I was finally doing something, but no.  Body thwarts it all again.  And it totally cried in the REs office.  I'm sure it happens all the time, but I feel like a moron.  It wasn't an ugly cry.  Just teariness.

Mr. Right and I had a great talk last night about how we're in this together.  We're a team - and most of the time we're really good at that.  I was feeling so lovey dovey and ready to get started.  Now I just want to scream.

What sucks even more is that "try again next month" is probably not going to happen.  If my next period starts on time, I'll be at my mother's in the midwest when I need to be monitored for my trigger shot.  They won't let me start if that happens.  So now we're looking at January, dammit.

And speaking of my mother, she's coming here tonight.  We're doing our Thanksgiving early.  She was so excited about being here when we started meds (weird) that I wanted to call and make sure she knew what was up.  I told her how I felt about not having any control and she said "That's just it Lisa, you don't have control.  You have to lay this at the feet of the Lord."  W... T... F...

Now, typically I appreciate what my mom has to say and usually I can find some comfort in the religious stuff, but what the hell is THAT supposed to mean?  If I'm just a pawn in God's great game and he has some sort of plan, why am I even bothering going through treatment?  I mean, won't everything just work the way it's meant to?  Or why even bother exercising free will if it's all in His hands anyway? And if I've "given it all up to God" and I'm STILL not pregnant, does that mean it's not part of His plan?  I'm not meant to create life with my husband like everyone else does?  I refuse to believe that.  So I have no idea what laying it at any supreme being's feet is supposed to do right now, but that shit sure didn't help.

Ugh.  I'm gunna go clean my house.

She's Here! She's Here!

I've never been so excited about getting my period in my life. Let's do this thing!

And yes, I have blog template ADD. :)

My Medicine Cabinet Runneth Over

The drugs are here!

But first, an explanation on my absence.  I went to the doctor on Friday for the UTI deal, and I was all clear!  She told me that I either cleared it on my own or I was having early pregnancy symptoms.  Told you she's a crazy wench. I was only 10 DPO, so it was too early to test and I spent the whole weekend analysing everything and being so hopeful.  I peed on plenty of sticks, they were all as blank as can be.  AF was supposed to come today, and of course is taking her sweet time.  I've got the headache, though, so I'm expecting her tomorrow.  And there was nice blank pee stick this morning just in case I wanted to continue my hopefest.  So anyway, I was too busy peeing on sticks to blog, I suppose. 

Oh, and I've suddenly got sciatica pain.  Anyone had that with endo?  Dr. Google says it could happen.  I'll see if it happens next month.  No wait - let's put positive thoughts out there.  AF will not come next month. :)

Anywho, it's a good thing my BIL knows now!  He is a pharmacy tech, which came in handy today.  He stops by the house on occasion while we're at work to play with the dog and just have a place to hang between his classes.  He sent me a text today that said, "Hey, you got a package that says it needs refrigeration.  Want me to open it and put it in the fridge?"  It was nice to be able to warn him what it was and ask him to open it, figure out what goes in the fridge, and put it in there for us.  Helpful BIL!

But, holy giant confusing box, Batman!  It feels like it's been so long since our nursing visit that I forgot what I needed!  They sent us a Follistim pen, when I'm not taking Follistim, so that didn't help the confusion factor any.  I started to panic a little because I couldn't remember all the details. 

Me:  I'm supposed to do two of those suppositories a day?  There's no applicator!  Do I have to do them at the same time?
Mr. Right:  No, I remember she said to space them out.  It's not like you're a friggin' Pez dispenser.

After I figured out that some of the needles were for the Follistim pen I didn't need, I got it all sorted out and accounted for.  Come on AF, let's get this show on the road!

The MIL Knows!

At some point, we need to be outed to the whole fan-damily.  Mr. Right told his brother a few weeks ago that we were seeing a fertility specialist.  His brother said something like "I figured as much since Lisa's had those prenatal vitamins on the counter for, like, ever."  Awesome.

He was tentative about letting his mom know about our struggles, mostly because she's a worrier and he thought the language barrier would be a struggle ("Babe, I don't know the word for 'stirrups' in Korean and I don't want to).  I didn't fight this because I read things like this: http://iamkoream.com/be-my-baby-kas-and-infertility/

Before I got to know my MIL, I was really worried.  Mostly worried that she would want me to be a traditional DIL, which pretty much means bearing sons, being subservient, and being really good at peeling fruit from what I understand.  Thankfully, she doesn't expect any of these things.  She is as sweet as a woman could be and accepts me for who I am... a heathen, white, cafeteria catholic who loves her oldest boy.  I love her to death.

She's only mentioned the baby thing a couple of times.  We know she's anxious for grandbabies, but as long as she wasn't asking, we weren't mentioning it.  She asked again the other night and Mr. Right told her that we've been trying since the wedding (Yes, he keeps up this charade where he thinks she believes he was pure as the driven snow until our wedding day.  I give her more credit than that.  But he would never tell her that it's been longer than that.  Goofball.), that things hadn't been working, and that we had been seeing a doctor.  She said to tell me not to worry.  I of course interpreted this as "just relax," but he quickly corrected me to be sure I knew that she just didn't want me to worry in general because worrying is bad.  Not that she thought it would help me get pregnant.  She was concerned about the side effects because she doesn't want me to have any.  And that was it!  I hope SHE doesn't worry.  It feels good that she knows.  I know we weren't keeping it a secret or anything, but it felt weird.

Sweet Mary in the Manger, This Day Has Sucked!

A couple of days ago, I started wondering if perhaps I was getting a UTI.  Instead, I wanted to believe that the cramping I was feeling was maybe implantation.  Yeah, neurotic.  Then yesterday, we went for a run and I was WIPED 1 mile in (3 miles is not a problem for me) and thought, "Hmmmm, maybe I really am getting an infection.  Or maybe I'm pregnant and that's why I'm tired.  Let's go with that."  Then today was full on burning pee every hour so there's no denying it - I have a UTI. I have an appt with my PCP in the morning to confirm.  Swell.  But here's where I'm worried.  I'm not a fan of my PCP and I moved recently and should choose a new one, but she already knows my history.  Let's just say that when I got off the pill, she prescribed me a narcotic, because that's better than 30 Advil in a day when I'm on my period, and then told me not to take it in my third trimester.  I actually had to tell her, "Well, if I'm in my third trimester I won't have menstrual cramps."  She looked at me blank faced and just said, "yes."

This is my 4th UTI in a year, my 3rd in about 6 months.  Last time I had one she told me she was going to put me on a prophylactic antibiotic to take every time I have sex.  Now, Dr. Google says this is a totally reasonable course of treatment, but I'm not feeling so great about it in the TTC context.  And what does a UTI and antibiotics mean for this upcoming cycle?  It should be gone and over before the IUI, but STILL!  It makes me nervous.  So I called the nurses line at my RE's office and didn't get a call back.  I just wanted to have a game plan if/when she presented me with the prophylactic idea.  So that was a bummer.

THEN I got a call from the fertility pharmacy.  They said that my insurance denied the preapproval for meds because they only cover drugs for timed intercourse cycles.  I know this is the story for my primary, but not my secondary.  See, when we got married, I signed on to Mr. Right's plan because there actually are some infertility benefits (very, very blessed, I know), but I was feeling all self-righteous about dropping my insurance.  There was no employee premium for the lowest level insurance, and I felt like if I dropped it, I was doing the state a favor and not seeing any of the money I was saving them (I'm a state employee - we've been furloughed , had premiums raised, cuts in retirement matching, no raise in 3 years, furloughed again, etc - I'm bitter).  So I kept my insurance, which serves as my primary, and since it covers nothing, it ends up being more of a hinderance than a help.  People aren't fans of the complication and don't really like filing with two plans.  Anyway, back to the pharmacist call.  She said that my RE's office was saying my secondary was only for medical and not pharmacy so they were refusing to fill out the preapproval form.  So I called my RE's office and got the snippy financial chick.  She kept talking over me and ma'aming me.  I was trying to tell her what the pharmacy told me and she was trying to tell me what my insurance would cover.  I KNOW what they cover, I'm just trying to tell you what the chick told me, biotch!  Turns out she had told the pharmacy lady already that she had to wait for the denial from my primary before she could send her the forms for the secondary and that they were all filled out and ready to go.  Did she apologize for being a biotch?  No.  I called the pharmacy back and I THINK I straightened in out, but in the meantime, AF IS SUPPOSED TO COME TUESDAY AND I NEED MY DAMNED DRUGS!  One more thing to stress about.  And someone tell that woman that when there is an infertile, PMSing woman on the line, trying to protect her financial situation which is the ONLY thing she has some remote semblance of control over in this game - SHE SHOULD NOT BE MA'AMED!  Or yelled at and talked over either, but FOR SURE NOT MA'AMED!

And THEN there's fun work stuff.  I got to give very bad news for the second time this week.  You know how when you get an ultrasound and there's bad news, the tech totally knows what's up, but since the doctor makes the big bucks, he/she is recruited to tell you the bad news?  Doesn't happen in my profession.  Telling a parent that their child needs another surgery on his little noggin when they didn't see it coming?  Blows.

So we went out to dinner and I ate pasta.  Pooh on you, day!

The Mamma Person - Meaning My Mamma Person

I love my mom. I know I am a super lucky person in that respect, but my dad is a D-Bag to end all D-Bags.  I deserve an awesome mom.   So there.
One thing that I think is so important in the relationship between my mom and me is that I've learned that when I'm going through something, it is about her too. As much as I don't want to admit it, it is. When I got married, she was watching her daughter move to a totally different phase in her life, with some random dude, 1000 miles away. No easy feat. When I'm going through infertility treatment, she's watching me grieve, wondering if those cigarettes she smoked or those couple of glasses of wine she had when she was pregnant caused my infertility. She's also wondering if she'll get a grandkid out of us and I'm sure that has it's own emotional turmoil, just like our worries that we'll never have a child are... no fun to put it mildly.

I finally talked to her about my church issues. I know she was suspecting something because she kept asking if I was liking my new parish. I obviously only had lame things to say about it since I've been, like, twice in the last three months or so. So I finally fessed up, and told her that one of the reasons I'd stopped going (aside from the bawling in public factor) was because I'd read the directives from the USCCB.  She said some amazing things.  Among the best - a favorite new mom quote.  "It's not like they were handed down from Jesus Christ himself.  They were written by a bunch of old guys who don't even have sex.  At least they aren't supposed to."  Good point mom.  She reminded me that I used BCP knowing it was against my religion to do so and that I don't go to confession because I don't believe in it in the way the sacrament is presented.  She mentioned my rather liberal views on the LGBT community, the pro-life movement, and other things I tend to question from the church (Side note - if you read church teaching, the support of the LGBT community and "right to life" teachings regarding those already born are a truly beautiful part of Catholic social teaching - just not always followed as they are intended.  This is not meant to be a Catholic bash.).  My mom's argument was that I'm already a cafeteria Catholic, so why stop now!

I asked her how she felt when she was going through her divorce.  My father was abusive and they were married for 25 years.  They NEEDED to get divorced and would actually qualify for an annulment if my father would stop trying to block it by stating that he believes in the sanctity of marriage (his 20 years of cheating and 2 more divorces since would beg to differ, but that's another blog for another time).  My point in asking her was that when I'm in church, praying my knees off for a baby, I feel extra alone because I can't reach out to my faith community for support with the choices I'm making.  Didn't she feel the same way when she was going through her divorce?  She teared up and admitted that my brother once had to carry her out of mass because she was crying so hard.  But then she said something really important.

"You have to remember to separate your faith from your religion.  You need your faith right now.  It's what will hold you up.  Your religion is a separate matter.  You will find people in your faith community you can rely on, but it's not about religion.  It's about faith.  And right now I feel like that's the biggest gift I can give you in this."

And then she added, "Besides, the church sucks at science.  Look what they said about Columbus.  And they excommunicated that astronomy guy!"

Love my mom.

She reminded me that the biggest test is to ask myself if I'm being immoral.  Obviously, I don't feel that I am.  God gave us free will, brains, and science.  This is a medical issue for me, not a religious conundrum.

So I went to church last weekend.  And I got a little teary.  And Mr. Right came with.  And there was a little comfort in that.  It's a work in progress.

Privacy Fail!

Note to Self:

Do not call your RE's office from work. If you do, you will end up having to leave a message on the nurse's line. While leaving said message, you will say things such as what cycle day you are on, what treatment you're planning, and when you expect your next period. You will then turn around and see a grad student in your doorway, waiting for you to get off the phone. I know you close your door, but that is pretty pointless in a pediatric clinic.

Sincerely,
Self

Music Mondays

I've been feeling especially thankful for my wonderful husband lately and this song has really stuck with me.  We're generally silly, simple people with big dreams.  So tonight, let's celebrate putting the lonesome on the shelf.  This is You & I, Ing.rid Michae.lson.

The White Girl's First Trip to the Asian Market

I once dated a guy with red hair and freckles.  He HATED going with me to the Italian Bakery/Meat Market (because we Italians like to combine the two on a regular basis).  He said people looked at him weird and he felt like an outsider.  I couldn't understand why ANYONE wouldn't want to stand in an Italian Bakery and just sniff it all in.  It smells so dang good!  Who cares who is looking at you funny!  But because of his constant comments about stepping into my personal heaven and feeling unwelcome, I've been nervous about going to the Asian Market with Mr. Right.  But this week, I broke through the barrier and went!  Go me!

We pulled up and he said, "Just be sure you say 'no' to the lady who asks to do your hair."  I said, "Are you being serious?" I really thought he meant it for... well... several hours.  Let's not lie about how incredibly gullible I really am!

It was a tiny little grocery store run by a tiny little Korean woman filled with crap tons of Korean food.  I could recognize what he was picking off the shelves because it has been in my house.  I could make brilliant comments like, "Oooh, get some of those thingies."  I was a little freaked by the self serve freezer. (Seriously - like the one in your kitchen right now.  Not a standard issue grocery freezer.  A household one.)  It was chock full of random meats piled up on each other.  Mr. Right says that the meat standards in Korea are higher than in the US, but I've never been so glad to be a chicken and fish only kinda girl!  Anywho, we checked out, I knew when he said thank you (one of the phrases in my vast Korean vocabulary of... about 5 phrases) and we left.  No one looked at me funny - or looked at me really at all for that matter.  Koreans are cool like that.

I seriously need to learn some more Korean before I end up with children who have a secret language where all I can understand is "thank you," "yes," "mom," "dad," and "dogs taste good."  Yeah.  Mr. Right thinks he's a regular riot act.

Woulda Shoulda Couldas

At this time last year, I was embarking on preconception visits.  I was totally optimistic and knew it would happen right away for us like it had for my friends.  My gyno told me that even if I had endo, there was only a 20% chance it would cause any problems.  She was wrong, but I didn't know that at the time.  I was blissfully unaware.

At this time last year, my coworkers were planning a fun day of team building for us this fall.  It would include paint ball and ropes courses, bonding and zip lines.  I thought it sounded so fun!  But I was also sure I wouldn't be participating.  After all, I would for sure be pregnant by Nov 2011!  Heck, I might even be on maternity leave!

Guess what I did yesterday... 

Strapped my barren self into a harness and zipped through the treetops.  I might have eaten a bug. 

Protein.

Relationship Changes

One thing I'm having a tough time with is how my relationships with friends are changing.  Some of them I just see differently because they seem to take their families for granted in my newly infertile eyes.  Some are going through pregnancies and are caught up in their own lives (understandably) and I have a hard time relating.  Some have disappeared altogether since I mentioned our struggles.  I don't know if it made them uncomfortable or what, but the disappearances hurt the most of all.

I've made some new relationships too.  With other people who have struggled with infertility.  They have been surprising and I'm grateful for them.

What is amazing, though, is the friends I knew I had, but have taken for granted.  The ones who are reading this blog even though it's often kind of a downer (you know who you are, my dears).  The ones who put up with me being teary and self-involved at the moment.  I'm a lucky girl, I must say, and I love you guys.

Insensitve Comments Abound

I'm making it a policy to not nod and smile when people say rude and insensitive things. People don't understand what it's like to deal with infertility and if we want to make it less shameful and more open, we need to advocate for ourselves. Part of that means not acting like a doormat when people are being ignorant.
Friend: Hey, how was the doctor?
Me: Not too bad. We learned about the meds and how to give shots.
Friend: Ugh. No fun. Hey, did I tell you about my friend's wife? Her epidural wore off and she needed a forceps birth. She said it was awful. So take your time with your shots there. Don't be in a hurry.
Come again? Take your time getting through painful, humiliating, sometimes emotionally crippling infertility treatment because giving birth hurts?

My real response: No, I'd take a forceps over all of this crap any day. You get to be a mom after the forceps.
I know I made her uncomfortable because she started nervously chatting about random things, but she still didn't apologize.

Needles and Pills and Wands... Oh My!

We learned how to reconstitute and give shots today. Not something that was on my to do list for life, I must say! Our nurse was so friendly and upbeat. She really helped make it not so bad. As did the constant flow of candy on the day after Halloween. :)

So here's the lowdown:

CD 2 or 3: Ultrasound (Can I get an Eww!?!?)
CD 3-7: 5 mg (two pills) Letrozole
CD 7-9: 150 IU Menopur
Ultrasound on CD 12 or 13.
Ovidrel depending on what the ultrasound says
IUI 36 hours later
14 days of Prometrium suppositories

Honestly - the Prometrium bugs me more than anything else. Anyone willing to share some tips on that?

Mr. Right demonstrated some good syringe skills, so I'm feeling good about letting him shoot me. We've got 10 pills and 4 shots in this line up - not too bad.