Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
1. I hate mousses and puddings. The texture just grosses me out. Especially mousse. It's all airy and foamy and whippy. Blech. I have only recently learned to endure jello and pudding.
2. I have a spot on the side of my nose. It's one of those that comes with being "mature in years" and spending too much time in the sun. At least once a week someone whispers that I "have something on my nose...maybe makeup?" And I have to tell them its just a little brown spot. Don't worry. I've had it checked out. It's fine and can be removed for a couple hundred bucks. I've grown attached to the little bugger though. It's shaped like the Hawaiian Islands. I like Hawaii.
3. I have moved cross-country by myself, three times. Each town was about 2500 miles from the last. There's something incredibly freeing and exciting about moving to a new place where no one knows you and you know nothing about the place you're going to live. I loved figuring out where to take my dry cleaning, get my hair cut, go grocery shopping. It's been five years since my last move. I'm getting the itch...
4. My maiden name was slang for "vomit." Growing up was fun for me.
5. I am trying to read the entire Bible before I give birth in June. The Bible is big. There are large boring bits. The type is small. I have read 221 pages. There are 1800 total. I'm screwed.
6. I met my husband through my mother (creepy, but true).
7. I have a reoccurring dream with David Boreanaz (Buffy, Angel, Bones) where he is a kazillionaire and is madly in love with me. He is HOT and in my dream I am HOTTER.
Friday, December 12, 2008
We usually have a Labor Day Fiesta party, but this year we were knee-wide, I mean, knee-deep in IVF preparation. I was in NO mood to host a big party. So, BigB begged for a Christmas party instead.
There's a small chance at salvation: a big snow/winter storm. It's headed our way and could bring lots of snow and ice tomorrow. Which would actually suck worse. Because I would still have to do the work, and probably only 1/3 of my peeps would show up. We are BIG wooses in Seattle when it comes to driving in "winter conditions."
Wish me luck. I'm going to need it to pull this off!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
I was already at the dregs of my closet. After gaining 15+ pounds from being on fertility meds for the past year and a half, there are precious few things I can still wear. And there's not a thing that will fit without the aid of my dear friend Belly.Band. So, my premise was to order a bunch, try them on in the comfort of my home (who can stand those tiny, coffin-like dressing rooms?), and return most of it. How's my argument? Will he buy it (no pun intended)?
Anyhoo, I'm looking forward to getting my big box of big pants and shirts in the mail. It might be the only present I open this Christmas (BigB and I bought a new fancy shmancy TV "for each other" instead of gifts. And Rock Band - which I adore and kickASZ on). I bought nothing with prints. All solids. I decided after wearing a horizontally striped cardigan the other day that stripes are NO LONGER my friend. And all those patterned maternity shirts out there are rarely flattering, pregnant or not. I had them ship them to me at work, so hopefully everything fits inside one small-ish box, otherwise I'll have to bribe one of the young guys to haul all my loot out to my car. I can hardly wait! Even if it is Big Clothes that I'll only get to wear for 6 months, or so. Excited nonetheless. New Clothes! In a Package! Through the Mail!
Monday, December 8, 2008
After setting it up in the living room, BigB went off to study for his finals. I tackled the task no one likes - putting on the lights. It failed to even cross my mind that you might want to test the lights BEFORE putting them on the tree. But, ya know, they worked when I took them OFF the tree last year, so why wouldn't they work when I put them back ON? But noooooooo, three of the four strands failed to perform their functional duty.
As I was stringing up the (soon-to-be-realized) useless strands, I came upon the Christmas movie, "Prancer." I had never seen, not even heard, of this movie. It was great! I don't know how I missed it all these years. It was sweet. I cried. Of course. Everything makes me cry, especially a little girl with a reindeer. I had already watched the end of Gremlins (didn't make me cry but those freaky things sure look curiously a lot like my Boston Terriers), and all of the original Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (didn't make me cry but made me seriously think about bratty children). So basically it was a fairly unproductive afternoon for me. And that's ok. BigB came home to a poorly lit tree, boxes strewn everywhere, and me in a pile of snotty tissues and red eyes. 'Tis the season!
Friday, December 5, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
As mentioned before, I am a worrier by nature. I obsess. I literally wring my hands all day long. And pace. And mull every possible outcome over in my mind - especially at night when I'm supposed to be sleeping.
This past week I haven't felt pregnant at all. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Maybe a few headaches, maybe some heartburn, but nothing that isn't par for the course outside of pregnancy. Of course this means that I am worrying myself sick that something is undoubtedly wrong.
Add to this that BigB decided that he wanted to make The Big Announcement at Thanksgiving Dinner. Appropriate of course...we are very thankful, but I just couldn't get over the nagging feeling that we'd (HE'd) be emailing and calling everyone in a few weeks to tell them that it in fact did NOT work out and that I was laying in a heap in the corner probably never to fully return.
Of course, I can't just worry about all that. I have to pile on the worry that if I am in fact still pregnant, that there is something horribly wrong. Then there's the whole testing/screening decision that I have still managed to put off.
These two scenarios have had me in fits of sobbing, wracking tears, just about every day for the past week. Big B has tried to be sympathetic...but mostly he just wonders when I'm going to be excited and happy.
I think part of it has to do with all of the testing and interaction with fertility treatments. I was in their office so frequently. And then the testing. You know what's happening in your body down to the inch and minute. It's totally unnerving to have to wait four weeks between appointments. Plus, we know all too well that pregnancy after infertility is not a cakewalk. We have dear friends who have had horrific tragedies, and who am I to think that after all of this time and countless setbacks that this could actually happen and everything could be just fine.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
On to more exciting and salivatingly addictive topics. Thanksgiving!
I love Thanksgiving when it's on THIS side of the mountain pass. For the past three years we had to make the 6.5 hour roadtrip to Big B's mother's house. There is not a moment during those trips when I can relax and let my guard down. It's always one big stress-fest, with me counting down the hours...no, minutes, until we can leave.
This year we're having it at my mom's house, although I'm bringing most of the food (including the turkey) for 15 people. It will be a teency bit strange, because my four step brothers and sisters are coming with their spouses and kids, and my "real" brothers and sisters aren't coming at all. It will still be fun, though. They're a great group of people, kind of reserved and polite, but very easy going.
This is totally unlike my siblings. When we get together it becomes A Big Competition...who can be Most Funny? who can Get the Most Attention? who can still do a headstand? (I'm serious...with my oldest brother at 50, we inevitably challenge each other to see who can still do crazy human tricks). We talk loud, disagree, sometimes say not-so-pleasant-things to each other, are completely honest about the turkey/pie/stuffing.
This leads me to my Top Ten Turkey Day Foods:
1. Mashed Potatoes (only my mom's will do...mine turn out like play-dough)
2. Sweet Potatoes (they must have marshmallows on top)
3. Cherry-O Cheesecake (this is such a nostalgic, yet horribly wonderful desert)
4. Apple Pie (my special recipe)
5. Rolls (the white fluffy kind with lots of butter and jam)
6. Carrot Casserole (sounds weird, but is awesome)
7. Cranberry Sauce (made with real cranberries, not that canned jelly stuff)
8. Ambrosia Fruit Salad (my sister's top secret recipe...terribly fattening)
9. Turkey (dark and white combo) - no gravy!
10. Stuffing (new to the Top Ten List...I'm a late adapter)
I don't think it's ironic at all that my top eight items are total carb fests. I didn't earn this waistline by craving protein. I am digging IN this year. I'll have my Belly Band in place and ready to take on an extra inch or two of bloated goodness. There's no stoppin' me now. My only regret is that when you don't host Thanksgiving, there aren't the mounds of leftovers to nuke for days later.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Big B says NO go. The tests are notorious for false positives and knowing that something *could* be "wrong" with the little nutcracker isn't going to change anything for us. It would just make me sad and depressed the whole pregnancy.
I'm not so sure. Being The Worrier that I am, I feel like it would be so nice for those tests to come back normal and be able to have some sense of peace. But what if it was positive? Would it be good to know so that I could prepare myself? Or would it be better to be "surprised" with a chromosomal defect when Maverick makes his/her debut into this crazy world? I could just go on trusting that everything is rosy.
I just don't know. But, we have to make up our minds QUICK. It takes at least two weeks to get scheduled for the appt., and it's supposed to be done before the end of week 14. Perhaps my blogging friends who have been through this or thought about it could give me advice.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
My aunt, usually a fairly thin woman, has put on some lb's in the past year. This has prompted her to by some new clothing. She bought herself a new outfit last week and decided to wear it to church on Sunday. After putting on her new pair of plaid-ish pants and brown sweater, she decided she no longer liked it. She laid it on the bed so it wouldn't get wrinkled before she took it back to the retailer. Off to church she went.
Her husband had to run some errands that same morning, and told auntie that he would meet her at church. He gets home after she's already left and sees the outfit lying on the bed. He assumes that she has got him a new pair of pants and sweater, and that she wants him to wear it to church. He does. No kidding. Yes, he thinks its kind of an odd outfit, but, hey, she's the expert in the fashion department. Who is he to challenge her taste in pants.
He shows up at church and she sees him walk in. She doubles over in laughter. He's clueless. She can hardly breathe.
I know, I know. Wouldn't he KNOW they were women's clothing? He's definitely not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Have I been taking prenatal vitamins? Oh yes...for TWO YEARS.
Have I been tested for STDs? Um...yes - required for IVF.
Have I had a recent pap smear? Double check - required for IVF.
Have I had a recent ultrasound? Triple check - just last week.
(as they drew blood) How are you with needles? Must be okay...I've given myself over 125 in the past 3 months, not counting the kazillion draws. I haven't passed out yet!
But it was very reassuring to hear that everything looked good. She saw the little dancing ball, doing his/her usual arm wavings and spinning around. And she saw it all from the outside - the wand didn't go in at all! I was a bit confused when she told me legs didn't have to be in the stirrups. Whaaa? This is new.
The great thing was that she said I could take Unisom! (angelic choir sings). I have not had more than 2 hours of continuous sleep in three months. Most nights that's ALL the sleep I get. Not good. Took one little glorious tab last night and I was OUT. Not enough to sleep through the two or three urgent piddle requests by my bladder, but thankfully I went back to sleep after. I am a new woman.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
So, let's break this down:
If I had been 25 when I had my first baby, said "baby" would now be 13.
- I am 38
- I will be 51 when my first-born is 13, one year into my AARP membership
- I will be 55 when my first-born is old enough to drive me to Denny's for my "Senior Discount" Grand-Slam breakfast
- I will be 58 when my first-born heads off to college and 62 when they graduate - just in time for me to start collecting Social Security benefits
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
As usual, I'm freaking out. I'm so scared that there's going to be something majorly wrong. Just as I was starting to let it all sink in and even entertain the idea that thing was really going to work...
Just last night I was thinking, tomorrow is day one of week 10. If I can get through this week, there's a good chance that this will really happen. Yesterday my mom came over to help organize our storage room so we'll have a place to store all the stuff in the office that's to become the nursery. I just started filling out a baby book that a friend gave me. BigB and I have been making plans of how we'll make our grand announcement at Thanksgiving. I ordered two pairs of maternity pants at JCPenE. My first OB appt is next Monday.
I'm trying to remain calm. Trying to remain positive. Trying to remember that God is in control and that He loves me. A lot. Prayers are appreciated.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Early Pregnancy Elation and Fears
I remember fourteen years ago when I found out I was pregnant for the second time with our first son. It was overwhelming; feelings of happiness, joy, fear, anxiety all mixed up with hormones to boot.
I was never sure if I was going to become a mother, Ever. Especially after the pain of my first pregnancy ending in miscarriage with my soon to be Ex totally unsupportive first husband. After heartbreak and heartmend, soul searching, and a good therapist or two, I had come to accept and be okay with never being a parent, just a doting aunt. I had let go of my fondest wish and desire even though it hurt because I learned that it was so totally outside my control.
When I met my current husband and we decided to have a family, it was as if the world of possibility was opened up to me. My heart took flight when I saw the two pink lines and the shock and joy in my husband's face. My happiness was tempered with anxiety, I felt like I knew too much being a maternal/child nurse for many years before having children. My older sister, who is a Pediatric Cancer Specialist, also felt this way when she had children five years before me.
I didn't know what worrying was until I got pregnant and then I realized again, I had to let go, and accept the wisdom of my body and the child I carried. I had been given a chance to turn myself over to this selfless act of creating and nuturing life.
Our sons daily teach me the wisdom and beauty of "letting go", sometimes it is quite annoying for all parties concerned and other days, it's so wonderful I pinch myself.
Thank you for letting me share my thoughts today on Kandi's blog. As a mother of older children, I wanted to post something relevant for her. I hope you will join me in wishing her all the best for the happiest and healthiest pregnancy for her, her husband, and their child.
(guess this blog author in your comments below)
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
I guess I try to engage people. I look them in the eye. I smile. I say "excuse me" or "pardon me" when walking in front of them while they're making a decision between the sundried tomato or mushroom spaghetti sauce. Rarely does anyone ever smile back, make eye contact, or even acknowledge that I have spoken to them.
Why is this? We're inches from each other, sharing the same space and activity, and they look like I have grown a second head and need to be put in a holding cell. Does it stem from years of being told, "don't talk to strangers?" Is it a West Coast thing? It's not like I'm trying to strike up a conversation or anything.
I get this on the street, too. Just say "hi" to a stranger and 9 times out of 10 they won't respond. I know I live in a big city, but, come on! I just really feel like this world would be a better place if we could give strangers a smile or a hello once in awhile. Just a few days after the biggest historical landmark in recent history where strangers were dancing in the street together, and we can't accept a strangers good tidings.
I'll keep doing it. Keep making myself look like a fool. But maybe I'll brighten someones day, too. I guess you never know.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Last night I peed six times.
In the middle of the night.
Of course just as I'm falling back asleep, the tiny tank of mine screems, "reeeeeeleeeeeasssse meeeee!" And, there's no falling back asleep until I scooch my rump down to the end of the bad, over three or seven pairs of shoes, down the unlit hall to our freezing cold bathroom.
It really sucks a truck. I was hoping this was just an early pregnancy thing and that it, along with the constant feeling of bad-chinese-food-ingested would pass. But, apparently, no. According to baby.center, this absurd behavior will "die down as soon as your baby is born." Fantastic. I'm telling you what. I'm so moving Big B over to the other side of the bed. I really can't see myself "scooching" an extra 25-50 pounds of girth. It would be more like "hauling" or perhaps "winching."
Friday, October 31, 2008
As we pick up the syringes and needles, I notice that they're completely different colors than our last ones. And the numbers on the packages were really small (meaning really BIG needles). I asked the pharmacy, "are these the right needles? they look really big!" She replied back, "they're the right needles if you're a horse. They are very big." Since I am not a horse, although my arse is so big that I may look like a horse from the rear, we got things kind of straightened out. However, the syringes are actually too small so the oil can't get sucked up into the syringe without a lot of conniving.
There's a few things I really look forward to at my morning poke:
- The bonding time with my husband. It really brings us close together as he searches my ever-expanding derriere for a spot that has less cottage cheese and more, ahem, muscle. Sometimes it takes awhile and we get to chat about all kinds of topics like politics, our bosses, the meaning of our lives (at five in the morning).
- Having a warm, wet washcloth applied to my bum. Especially when it isn't wrung out and it drips down my, err, great divide, and makes a big wet mess of my undies and pj's.
- The left side. For whatever reason, my left "bum" is a lot more sensitive. I can feel every drop of that wonderful concoction going in.
- The Deep Breathing that I get to practice. Especially on the left side.
- The exit. Every, and I mean every time BigB takes the needle out, it hurts like a mother. I dread the exit. Loathe the exit. It feels like he's grinding it around, but he swears he's pulling it straight out.
I'll really miss the morning poke. Really.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
My name is Kandi. Well, it's not really Kandi. That was my nickname until I went to college. At that point I deducted that Kandi would really only be a good name if I was choosing a profession in porn, stripping, or prostitution*. And, since my college offered none of those degrees, I would have to make a switch to the full name, Esmerelda. Just kidding. It's Kandace. My family and friends from high school still call me Kandi. No one else gets to. Except for blog readers. Because, heck, anyone who takes the time to listen to me bitch and complain about my struggles with life and infertility can call me whatever-the-hell-they-want (except Whiney Bitch, please). As long as they keep listening.
Which leads me to my story of struggling with infertility. Apparently, I never clued-in to the fact that as women get older, they produce less and less eggs, and the ones they produce aren't quite as "fresh" as might be required for baby making. I only thought my chances of having a baby with some sort of genetic problem would increase. So, I followed my dreams and chased that corporate ladder and glass ceiling - having a blast the whole time. I wasted most of my twenties with a guy who swore he would never get married or have kids (which both have happened in the past year for him), and moved from coast to coast (twice) by myself having fun as only a single girl can.
Finally, beginning to hear the faint rumblings of my internal Big Ben, I moved back to my home city when I was 33. Found Mr Right (or Big B as I like to call him) when I was 34, got married when I was 35 and started TTC when I was 36. Just in time, right? Naaaaaa. My eggs were already dusty and crusty.
After six months of stupid ovulation charts and temperates (and NEVER seeing an ovulation), we went through every imaginable test and straight to IUIs - 5 of them. 4 failing, and one sticking only to miscarry in my 10th week. After that, on to a second mortgage and IVF. The first one apparently worked as we got our betas back just two weeks ago. We're trying to remain calm until our first US next week.
As for me, I love to bake cakes for friends and co-workers. And cooking in gereral. And I love photography - I even have a somewhat ironic side biz taking baby, children and sr photos. I have strong faith in God and try to incorporate that into every area of my life (Jesus drank wine, right? And swore from time to time?). And, apparently, I like to write.
Whew. That was a lot. If you stuck through the whole post you get a Gold Star.
*please note that if your name is Kandi, Candy, Candi, or Kandy, don't get mad at me for my connotation of our shared name. It just wasn't for me. I couldn't pull it off. PLUS my maiden name happened to be a slang word for "puke." I got tired of hearing, "I ate so much Kandi I xxxxed
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Uh - oh. Somethin' big must be going down for door-shuttin' time.
She whispers to me, "I was talking with vendorX, and she said that she was talking to another guy here at work who told her that you were pregnant."
Are you following? So, a vendor is told by someone else that works for my company (but in a different department) that I'm pregnant. She, in turn, passes along said intel to another person in my company (in my same department), who then comes to me.
The good news is the person who came to me already knew. She's the one person in my office I confided in. And whom I completely trust would never ever spill the beans to anyone.
The bad news is that after just two weeks of seeing the ever-elusive double pink line, my "secret" is somehow common knowledge being passed about by practical strangers! At the coffee stand: "Would you like non-fat or soy with your latte?" "Soy. Oh, and have you heard that the woman in marketing is pregnant?"
I mean, for a vendor, whom I hardly ever work with, to casually chat about it to one of my co-workers? This means the guy who told her must not think anything about spreading "the news"around willy-nilly - and that no "top secret" code was given to him when someone decide to bless him with gossip fodder.
I was so pissed. There was definitely some steam coming out of my ears.
How Did This Happen? We hardly know that we're pregnant...we haven't even seen/heard the heartbeat. Plus my FE said we didn't need a 3rd Beta. So, as exciting as the news is, its not something we're casually passing around as common knowledge until at least the second trimester which isn't until December.
I went directly to the source - the guy who spilled the beans.
Me: Hey, guess what I heard? I heard from Suzy that she heard from Sally that you told her I was pregnant!
Him: Oh, really? I said that? I don't remember saying that.
Me: She definitely said she heard it from you.
Him: I didn't even know you were pregnant!!
Me: Then why did she say she heard it from you?
Him: Well...I think I was speculating that you were.
Me: Speculating? I know I've gained some weight in the past six months...
Him: No! I never look at things like that. I just knew you and Big B were trying and I speculated that you were.
Me: Well...can you NOT speculate any more? This isn't information that we're sharing with people. We just found out ourselves and with everything that has happened over the years we need to wait until we're good and ready.
Him: Oh, yeah. I won't talk about it anymore. I won't even tell my wife.
Speculating? You speculate that your stocks are going to go up. You speculate that dinosaurs existed. You speculate that gossiping about your co-worker is going to get you into some hot poo poo.
Let's just take this little soap opera a little further. I happen to have another friend whom I've bragged about in other posts. She's awesome and I'm lucky to have her as a friend. I also work with her. And her husband. They know all about me and Big B. Probably more than they ever wanted to know. They swore up and down that they wouldn't share our news with anyone. Me thinks her dear hubby went over to said blabbermouths house (they happen to be friends), had a few brewskis while playing X.Box, and let the lips loose. So, I had to have a little chat with her, too. Talk about damage control.
The biggest thing I worry about, is that everyone at work finds out, including my boss. And if something does go wrong with the pregnancy, I have to face everyone, all day, every day.
Am I over reacting?
Monday, October 20, 2008
This is Charlie, my 9 month old Boston Terrier and his second head, Lucy. We came across them one day and decided that Charlie had either eaten Lucy and was trying to "pass" her, or he was giving birth to a puppy, or perhaps they morphed into one, two-headed dog, that we now affectionately call, "Charlcy."
Apparently Lucy had no problem with her little brother (who is now bigger than she) completely covering her entire body. She continued snoring and seemed not concerned.
She saw this police horse in the neighborhood, recognized the familiar black and white markings as her own, and asked the horse, "are you my mother?"
We welcomed Charlie into the clan last March. He was a consolation prize after the miscarriage. I needed something small to love and mother.We soon realized that Charlie was alpha dog. So did Lucy. Thus the two-headed "Charlcy."
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
And the woman has no head or arms. But, thankfully, she is in a nice, pink leotard. The baby looks pretty happy - not all pink and red and wrinkly like most other newborns.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
I know I'm avoiding her because of the Big Elephant In The Room. You know the one, right? That she (probably) feels bad because she got pregnant immediately and we've been trying forever. So we don't talk about her pregnancy - we ignore that topic. Or do we? Will she go on and on about every little thing so much that I start gagging on my salad? I'm sure she'll bring up how much she misses me, and that she and her hubby really want to be a support for us, blah blah blah.
What do I do? What do I say? And to complicate things, Big B (my hubby) is dying to tell his best friend (her husband) about our latest news. After all, it is his best friend. Shouldn't he get to tell someone? I don't want Big B to tell him. Because then he'll tell her. And then she'll make a big deal about it and probably tell all of our other friends. I don't want her to know because she doesn't know what it's like to be sitting on pins and needles. To hold your breath for weeks on end, waiting for that other shoe to drop. I don't want to piss on her parade just because mine's been rained on over and over. Ya know?
I do want to be happy for her. I really do. I know its something I have to work on and get over. I can't live my life alienating one friend after another because they get pregnant or have a baby, or already have babies, or are wanting more babies, or tired of the babies they have. I'm getting all teary-eyed thinking about this. I really want to cancel. I don't don't don't want to do this.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
- Good white crusty Artisan bread (baked fresh every day, of course)
- White wine (Pinot Gris from the Willamette Valley)
- Cheese (preferably a tray of all kinds, but if I have to choose one, probably Beecher's Flagship)
- Kalamata Olives (pits removed, please!)
- Greek Pizza (artichoke hearts, feta cheese, sundried tomatoes, maybe some chicken)
I know. Strange. No chocolate! BFF and I played this and we decided that it was a tropical island and that there would be copious amounts of fruit, like mangoes and pineapple. Otherwise there would definitely be some sort of fruit on the list. Gotta keep things movin', *if ya know what I mean.*
What are your fave five?
Monday, October 13, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
It really did make a difference. Even the cutie-patootie (very young) graphic designer in my office commented on how "awesome" my hair looked. So...worth every penny in my book. What I didn't know when buying the thing, was that there were choices.
You could choose the camo-in-pink option:
Or the designer bag option:
I went for the plain ol' version. I am fairly mesmerized by it, though. It makes my hair feel super soft and not all rosanna-anna-danna. I could easily see myself morphing into "one of those girls" who totes the thing to work with her for a little afternoon delight of mid-day flattening.
And, just for the record... got my beta back. 200. It's a positive. The night before I had the worst cramps. I just knew AF would be banging on my door any second. But we POAS anyway. My jaw dropped about two feet when the second line came up almost immediately. Crazy.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Any Heroes fans? I am so lost.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
I was ushered into an examining room, and Dr. J, who was just the sweetest gal ever, immediately launches into a round of 21 questions about cycle days, meds, numbers, grades. I was totally impressed - I don't know what I thought...that she got her creds from the internet?But she's the real deal. She said she was going to treat me as if I was pregnant (I loved that! I almost kissed her right there). Then she looked at my tongue (apparently I'm lactose intolerant), took my pulse, and tapped my belly. She stuck a needle in my forehead, three in my belly, and a couple in my feet. It didn't hurt at all.
She told me all about how the female channel runs from your cooter up to your mouth. She explained that this phase (implantation) is like a seed planted in the spring, you don't want a big storm that disrupts it - but rather that it should be guarded and kept very still (no herbs for me and apparently no sex). She had me lie in the dark, with some awesome Chinese medicine music playing in the background (where do I get that CD?), and meditate on the little seed in the garden of my womb. I was out in like two seconds. She came in a few times and checked my pulse (to make sure I was still alive? To make sure I wasn't doing aerobics while she was out of the room?) It was the best nap I've had in a LONG time. Ultimately she put my hour of relaxation to an end came in and pulled out the needles, and said she'd see me again in two days and I can't wait.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
She recently posted a piece on not letting infertility consume you or ruin you. How it shouldn't define us. That we should choose happy.
I have been struggling with this for a long time. I want to be that person who is grateful. Who celebrates the victories (especially the pregnancy/births) of my friends. The person who doesn't alienate herself from others because they don't know what I'm going through. I want to be that strong person that people look at and wonder, "how does she do it?" and, "I want to be around her because she's so positive and cheerful." Which reminds me of a friend of mine who has categorized people in to two groups: Fun-givers and Fun-takers. I'm afraid since all of this infertility mumbo-jumbo, I have fallen into the latter of those two.
But how do you move from "gloom and doom" to "happiness and joy"? How do we get there? I am "spiritual" (not religious). I pray and read God's word. I know this path I'm walking is directed by Him. Yet, I seem to lack the ability to celebrate and praise this time I'm in. I also don't want to be that person who is unnaturally happy - always seeming to have their head in the clouds and be nauseatingly Susy Sunshine. How can I move from negative to positive? Any thoughts? Anyone?