New Year, New Start

Know what kinda sucks?  Realizing that your New Year's Eve plans won't pan out because you have to trigger... and we probably shouldn't drink... and we can't have any nookie.  We are racking our brains trying to figure out how to make this a romantic yet dry and sex free NYE so that it doesn't go down in history as being the NYE that sucked.  Of course if the IUI works there is no WAY it will be the NYE that sucked, but just in case we should probably have a plan for fun.

In the mean time, I'm working on my list of things I hope to accomplish in 2012.  New Years also marks a year of trying for us.  It's a milestone I was hoping to avoid, but kinda knew we would hit.  While I hope for a pregnancy in 2012, I know that it isn't something fully within my control, or something I can "accomplish," so it isn't going on the list.

1.  Healthier eating and exercise habits.  We're usually pretty good at this, but I'm really hoping to be more solid about it in 2012.

2.  Say my rosary.  Some people meditate, Catholics say rosaries.  I figure it can't hurt.  My mother gave me a St. Anne rosary for Christmas and I'm glad she chose St. Anne.  Most of the saints that are patrons against infertility are dudes.  I'd much rather ask for intercession from someone who's been there done that.  Wow.  Typing Catholic stuff out loud really makes you sound crazy cakes.

3.  Continue to be financially responsible.  We've been so darned good since we got married and have made serious dents in our debt.  I'm really really proud of us and want to continue seeing things moving in the right direction.

4.  Focus more on my husband.  I am a newlywed after all.  The TTC process has totally sucked some of that out and I would like to get it back.

5.  Be less of a doormat.  'Nuf said.

Stay safe tonight everyone!!!

How I Spent My Christmas Vacation...

This will probably be long, let me just put that out there before you get too invested.

I promise I kept up will all of my blog friends on my reader on my phone while I was gone.  I've got some commenting to do!

I had all of these grand plans to blog away while I was at my mom's house... and I didn't.  It's a little house!  I didn't want her nosy self looking over my shoulder. 

Okay, what else?  Did you know that you can bring vials of meds and needles through airport security and no one even asks you what they are for, but if you bring a pasta maker through, you will get searched?  Death by fettuccine!

I was able to connect with some old friends and a cousin I'd kind of lost touch with so that was really super great.  I'm pretty open with the infertility thing, especially after I've tossed a few back, so it's nice to be able to talk about it with people who have known me forever and ever.  My experience has been that people are really kind for the most part.  One of those people I hung out with, though, was my BFF.  If you've been reading my blog, you know that she was less than supportive about us seeking treatment and we haven't talked about it since.  I made her talk to me about it while I was home, and let me tell you... this is going to piss you all off.  Here we go:

She told me that she got pregnant with both of her kids on Clomid.  Yes, she did get pregnant the first month she got of the pill, yes she was on Clomid.  She got on the pill because of irregular periods.  Not like PCOS irregular, just irregular like off by a week or so.  Somehow, she got her doctor to give her Clomid without even trying drug free first because she didn't want to deal with irregular periods, and got pregnant right away both times.  She said, "Yup, took it 10 days and bam I was pregnant."  After I picked my jaw up and stopped trying to do the head scratching math, I heard her go on and on about the hot flashes.  They were apparently the end of the world.  W... T.... F... I've decided she just does not get it AT ALL!  It's a shame, but it is what it is.  We were out for drinks and I mentioned that part of the issue is probably that we are getting up there in age and she loudly proclaimed that I was full of shit.  My single friend who is a month younger than me backed me up and reminded her that it's something we all need to think about, but she wasn't havin' it.  Just get yourself some Clomid, y'all!  ugh.

On to me and my pill popping/shooting up.  No biggie!  Did the pills, did the shots, I'm a little uncomfortable and crampy, but it's not that big of a deal.  The great news is that I had the ultrasound today and I have four follies.  15, 16, 18, and 19.  My lining is trilaminar. We get to trigger tomorrow and do the IUI on Monday!  The clinic is closed on that day, but since there are three of us who ended up needing an IUI then, one of the docs is going to come in and get it taken care of for us.  Yay!  I'm feeling hopeful.  Trying not to be too hopeful, but right now, it feels good to be positive.

I'll leave you with this convo of the week:
Him (after giving me an injection): Did that hurt?
Me: Not really.  It did burn some, but I didn't even feel it when you put it in.  You're a good stick.
Him: Ah, just what every man wants to hear.

Over The River and Through The Woods

We're all packed up and ready to head to the cold Midwest for Christmas.  We're flying, which means fun with needles and the TSA! I borrowed/stole this adorable bag from work.  It's actually a little bag that usually contains goodies for a kiddo when they get a pair of hearing aids.  This kid didn't want her bag.  Good for me!  It's cute and fits drugs, syringes, needles, prescriptions, and embarrassing notes on fertility clinic letterhead.  I'm wondering how all of this is going to go down, but people do this everyday, right?  No one is going to point and laugh.  No TSA agent is going to yell, "Hey, can this lady bring her baby makin' drugs though?" across the security area.  It'll be just fine.

Yay For A Positive Post

I think my posts are becoming totally bipolar.  Thanks for the positive vibes from last night's sad fest.  You guys are the best.

Anyway, I called the office today because I DON'T want to go on vacation without knowing what my FSH was.  Turns out they only didn't call me because my RE is already on vacation all week (Sooo, I get to be in limbo?  WTF?).  BUT my FSH was 7.4!!!!!  I know you're only as good as your highest number, but THIS IS NOT HIGHER!!!!  Something to celebrate.  Weird thing is, I had a dream last night that it was 7.4.  Estradiol was not elevated.  We're good to go!!!!

Feeling more hopeful today. :)

Down The Hatch

And so it begins.  I took my first fertility drug ever this morning.  Last night I had a complete flip out about it.

At first I was feeling kind of excited. Like we were finally doing something proactive.  I knew we still had a snowball's chance in hell, but at least we were moving in the right direction.  Then I got this email from my mother about how excited she was that we would be doing the injections at her house.  She said she felt like she was really part of the process and she couldn't wait to tell our daughter (!) about the magical Christmas (yes, she said magical) where her parents moved heaven and earth to make the dream of her come true.  I did not respond to the email.  She knows we have 11% odds with this crap, so why she felt the need to write all that is beyond me.  Suddenly I felt like I had more weight on my shoulders. 

My husband and I are trying to be realistic.  Our mantra has become, "One hurdle at a time."  Now all of the sudden my mother has me pregnant... with a girl.  W.T.F.

So I went on my run last night to try to clear my head.  I was only 5 or so minutes in when I got a horrible pain in my tailbone that shot under my hip and down my leg, making my toes go numb.  Then I remembered that this happened my last period too and I was wondering if it was endo related since it started in my notoriously painful tailbone.  That's when the tears started to flow.  I hate that my body betrays me.  I hate that I want to run to destress over my body angst, but even that doesn't work because my body plays games with me.  I hate that I eat when I'm stressed and when I can't run the eating catches up with me.  I hate that we have to do any of this at all.  I feel like I've let my husband down. He would never say that I have and he refuses to point fingers, but I know it's my body that's the problem. 

It was a long night, with a lot of talking and thinking of what lies ahead.  We came back to our hurdle mantra and are just going to tell everyone else to back the f off.  Then this morning, it was down the hatch.  Onward we go.

I Get To Shoot Up In My Mom's Bathroom!

HAPPY DANCE!  THE CYST IS GONE!  Let's get this show on the road!  I start Letrozole tomorrow. My first injection will be on Christmas day, at my mother's house, probably in her bathroom.  Awkward.

On a less exciting note, my insurance said they won't pay for anything else until I have updated blood draws (even though I just had one a couple of months ago and haven't had any actual treatment since - buttheads).  So I had a fresh FSH, LH, and E2 drawn today.  Since I posted just the other day about how anxious I was about the FSH, I'm now sitting here anxious to hear from the office.  She said they'd call with it today, but I haven't heard anything yet.  Not that I can do anything about it - it is what it is - I just don't know how to function if I'm not freaking out about something.  Besides insurance cuts me off from ART if it gets over 19.  If it's over 19 we need to regroup anyway.

Music Mondays

I'm feeling snotty today and I'm going to go ahead and indulge that. BTW This is not directed at any PIFers or my friends in-real-life. More like at random women on FB who annoy me with their constant moment-by-moment pregnancy updates. You know, the smug ones.

Ponderings...

While we were at church Saturday night (We've been going to that mass - less babies and less baptisms), the homily got me thinking.  The Gospel was about the Annunciation.  When the angel Gabriel came to Mary and told her she was in a family way with... you know... God.  No pressure.  So he started the homily talking about whether most of us, in Mary's position, would have been able to say "yes."  I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have.  If God had come to me and said, "So Lisa, the deal is you're going to be infertile.  Cool?"  I would have said, "Ummm, what's behind door number 2?"  Of course this goes back to the whole "God has a plan for you" thing and I'm still struggling with that. Do I wish I could say yes to whatever God asks of me, yes I do.  I guess I'm just not strong enough.  But the whole Mary discussion is really what got me thinking...

One of the things that is so frustrating about infertility is how everyone has an opinion that they feel the need to share.  That advice often ignores the fact that this is a medical issue.  "You need to relax." "If it's meant to be it will be."  "Maybe you are supposed to adopt." "Maybe you aren't supposed to have a baby."  There's this theme that your ability to procreate is completely in the hands of a higher power.  No one feels that way about cancer or diabetes or the flu.  You see a friggin doctor and you handle it!  No one thinks God made you diabetic because you aren't worthy of sugar eating.  But for some reason, people still seem to think that not being able to have a baby is a sign from God and plenty of people frown on infertility treatment.

A woman's reproductive system is this huge thing that society just can't separate from religion.  Maybe it's not so random.  Think about all the women in the bible who became pregnant because God made it that way... Sarah, Rachel, Rebekah, Hannah, Ann, Elizabeth, Mary... I'm sure there are plenty more.  Are these teachings where all of this nastiness stems from?  Does the story of Mary and Jesus - a story well known even if not believed by all religions - lead society to believe that God controls when and how women get pregnant?  I just don't understand it, and I'm the kind of person who needs to understand where people are coming from on things.  I guess I'm just feeling particularly antsy since I'm about to go spend the holidays with my super conservative midwestern family and I'm nervous about some aunt bringing up my empty womb status.

On a happy note - no period yet!  I've been spotting for four days, so I'm know she's coming, but as long as she holds off for another few hours, we have a snowball's chance of actually having an IUI this cycle.  As long as the cyst's gone that is.  And as long as my clinic is open on the days we need them to be open.  And as long as... one hurdle at a time!

BACON!!! baconbaconbaconbacon BACON!!!!

We're sitting at dinner tonight, and the hubs decides he's on to something.

"What if bacon could cure infertility.  Would you eat it?"

(I guess I should add in here that I don't eat red meat or pork.  I believe in the food chain, I just don't like it).

"Of course I would eat it!"  I answered.

He couldn't stop.  "Wouldn't it be great if we found out bacon was like, a panacea for all the world's problems?  Like, you could cure cancer with it, and end wars. 'You've got a problem?  Here, have some bacon!'  I guess peace in the middle east would still be a problem, but besides that, it would be awesome."

Right now he is trying to tickle the dog and questioning why dogs aren't ticklish.

I truly truly want to procreate with this man.

I Know I Should Ask My Doctor, But I Like Your Answers Better

Here's the deal.  When I had my FSH tested on day three in September, it was 10.  Flat out 10.0.  As borderline as it gets.  My doc said it was, "Ooookaaay" and that was that.  When I went home and put it in my google machine and I flipped, but didn't bring it up again because I was afraid of being high maintenance.

Now, we're doing the IUI deal with 11-13% chance of success each cycle.  Smashing, yes?  He recommended two cycles and then reconoiter.  We have insurance coverage (We are very blessed and do not take it for granted.), but they require three IUIs before they will pay for ART. So, since we have no money, we're going for the IUIs, knowing that chances are pretty slim.  Since I've gotten a cyst without even stimming, I'm thinking we will need to take breaks between cycles which would slow us down. 

I know, I know, cart before the horse and all that stuff, but should I be concerned that my FSH is going to skyrocket in the next several months?  My ovulation date has been steadily moving out - from day 12 to day 19 this last cycle, so that has me a little nervous.  Thoughts?

...I don't even know how to title this

Disclaimer:  This is my space and I get to write what I want.  You don't have to agree with it.  You also have the right to call me out.  I'm not easily offended by opinions.  Now, on to the post.

Sometimes, hearing loss comes with other issues.  Sometimes a kiddo has some sort of syndrome, or they were in the NICU and had medication that caused hearing loss.  Sometimes their disabilities are so huge that hearing loss doesn't even faze their parents.  I see a lot of those kids.

One of my munchkins died this weekend.  He had congenital health issues and the medications he was on to try to keep his other problems in check caused his deafness.  He's one of two kids I can think of who have multiple significant disabilities, but also have language and the ability to communicate.  That made him very special to us.  He was loud and boisterous.  He was crass like an 8 year old boy should be.  His laugh filled the office and you knew he was there.  You were excited to see his name on the schedule because he was just so full of life.

His other problems and medications caused some severe personality changes.  He had zero filter and cursed like a sailor.  Unfortunately, this cursing was usually directed straight at his mother.  His sainted mother who spent every waking moment of this kid's life just trying to keep him alive.  She did what she could to deflect the swears and carry on.  There really wasn't much she could do about it, but it always broke my heart.  I could tell how much she cherished him and it was obvious to anyone how much of herself she had given just to see him wake up every day.

His father called our clinic this morning.  His dad didn't call to make sure we knew.  His dad called to thank us.  I have never been more humbled in my life.  In his grief and anguish, this man took the time to thank us.  I don't feel worthy of being a thought in such a sacred space.  Helping the kid hear a little better seems like such a minor consolation in the grand scheme of things.  I didn't feel like I should be thanked, I felt like we should have done more... and helpless because I knew we really couldn't.

After shedding some tears with my coworkers over the call, I opened my daily email from Resolve.  Reading the posts from women about their infertility struggles when I just got a call from a grieving father who watched his son die for the last 8 years made all of this IF crap seem so minuscule.  Hearing women woe about how hurt they are that their SIL got pregnant before them suddenly made me want to scream.  Yes, we don't have children.  Yes, we feel empty and lost without them, but what if you carried a child only to find out that your child would die?  What if you spent the next 8 years trying everything you could to keep him or her alive only to watch that child lose control over the ability to say "I love you?"  What if that child cussed you out on a daily basis instead?  And then what if that child finally did die?  How would you feel?  How could you resolve all of that?  I hate to be the "It could be worse" girl, but really - it could be.

So screw you infertility.  In the grand scheme of things, you really aren't all that important.  I'm done whining.  I'm done acting like life is over.  I'm done finding fault with what other people say to me.  I'm done over analyzing every cramp and twinge.  I'm going to find the joy in today, because I only get one shot at this life and I don't want to spend it being miserable.

A happy occasion

There are some rare times when I think, "It's a good thing I'm not pregnant." This is one of them.

Dear Santa,

I know I've asked for some ridiculous things in my lifetime.  That attempt at collecting Care Bear figurines went south pretty quickly.  Lord knows those diaper pants were a fashion no-no.  But I know what you had to go through to get me that Cabbage Patch Kid and I really appreciate it.  So when I think back about the crazy things you've brought just to see a smile on my face, I know you must really care.

I've made good use out of a lot of the stuff you got me, even decades later.  That keyboard still works!  And remember the Barbie Dream House?  Well, it's sitting in my mother's basement.  She's desperately waiting for a grandchild to come to her house and play with it.

So please, Santa, could you bring us a baby this year?  I know this is a pretty tall order and it really isn't a good idea to leave an infant under a tree, so just a pregnancy some time in 2012 would be amazing. 

We really will make good parents and we will never ever take this gift for granted.  Our family is ready and waiting. 

XOXO,
Lisa

"It's Like Your Always Stuck In Second Gear..."

I am very blessed to have several really fantastic friends. Trouble is, they don't live by me.

I grew up in the Midwest and have some great friends back home. Then I moved to MA and made some of the most fantastic friends a girl could ever hope for. Then I moved down here to NC, and my coworkers are awesome and I truly consider them friends.

A few years ago, I was all set on being a single chick and I bought a house. At the same time, Mr. Right was feeling the same way, and bought himself a house. Then we met, got engaged, and had to figure out what to do with two houses in the middle of a housing crisis. His is in a new development and hence WAY more underwater than mine and would be impossible to sell. Tried to sell mine, but it is also underwater and we weren't getting any bites. Thankfully, it's between two major universities and renting it out hasn't been a problem (knock on wood), but it meant moving almost an hour away to The Hubby's house. I had my coworkers nearby and friends to hang out with there, but now we hang with Mr. Right's friends since they are close. I like them, but I'm pretty shy and not altogether friendly really. And now I have THE HARDEST time trying to find something in common with these people. I can't find a common ground and it makes me feel like an even bigger loser.

They are ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT THEIR DAMNED KIDS!!!

They are comparing stories, one upping each other, talking about how to get them into the charter schools, what "cute" things they said... I just smile like a dummy. Mr. Right says I should start talking about my ovaries just to see what happens. 

Why do I left this make me feel like I have no worth? Before I was married, I never felt like that! Even my married friends had other things to talk about besides their kids. Now that this IF thing is hovering over my head, I feel all sensitive about it I guess. That and it seems like this group of friends is totally mom-focused. I find myself feeling relieved when the husbands are around because I'd rather try to pretend to know something about college basketball than to pretend to know something about mommyhood.

The Celebrity Game

I have this horrible habit, inherited from my mother of shouting out the life status and my shared hometown pride of certain celebrities when they come on TV or the radio.  Namely, I say things like "she's dead" or "he's from St. Louis."  This has now transfered to "she's infertile."  It all makes the husband person nuts.  BUT I now watch more of his cooking shows 'cuz they are chock full of infertile heroes.
Of course, the celebrities who loudly denied any treatment (I'm lookin at you, J-Lo) don't fall on my favorites list. It's not that I think they owe it to anyone to disclose the status of their uterus, but I do think they owe it to women to not perpetuate the thought that getting pregnant in your 40s is something that happens naturally on a regular basis. They don't have to announce "I used donor eggs!" but being a big fat liar and saying it was natural when your whole big Hollywood clinic knows about your time in the stirrups is irresponsible IMHO. Saying, "I had help" or even "I don't want to talk about it" is just fine.  So I've found myself following these "performances" with glee:

Desperate Housewives - Marcia Cross and Brenda Strong were in a scene together this week.  Heaven!
Activia Commercials
The Dixie Chicks
Anything SJP
Friends reruns
Kitchen Nightmares AND Hell's Kitchen
Top Chef
I'd watch Reading Rainbow if I could find it.
I'd watch The View if I could stomach it.

I have not stooped to listening to Celine yet, but I might swing that way if someone doesn't stop me soon.

Do you have an infertile celebrity hero?

The Depths of My Neuroses

Okay, maybe not the depths because I can assure you it gets way crazier, but here's a current sample.

Remember when I went for my baseline ultrasound before we were benched for our IUI this cycle and I said I probably wouldn't be able to start the next cycle because we would be at my mother's house when we needed to be monitored?  Well, since my body sucks, my ovulation date keeps moving out farther and farther.  This month, my temperature chart has looked like a constellation of stalactites, probably from the cyst, so I'm guessing there isn't a very cushy home in there.  So between the old egg and crusty uterus, I'm pretty sure our "dating" attempts this week are a moot point.

Now, I know some of you who read this blog don't ovulate regularly and are thinking "Wait, that bitch ovulates?  Why is she already planning the next cycle?  What a downer!  Isn't she just going to hang out and wait for a BFP to see if this one takes?  Come on!  Be grateful!"  Well, ovulation is not my issue.  I appear to ovulate every stupid month.  It's either endo or shitty eggs or a combo of the two.  Or maybe my husband's sperm are allergic to my eggs, who knows.  But at this point, I feel like ovulating is a cruel joke.

Okay, back to the point.  Since my ovulation date was pushed out, it's possible... just a little bit... that if the stars align, my LP is the typical 15 days it usually is, my cyst is gone, and my RE's office is open on the Friday before and the Monday after New Years we might be able to do this thing!  It's a big laundry list, but it could happen right?

At the same time, I'm wondering if maybe there's a snowballs chance in hell that the stars aligned in a different manner and we actually made a friggin baby.  Not that I have any symptoms, it's only 3 or 4 DPO, but my husband wants sushi this weekend and that sounds fantastic to me.  Plus it's my department Christmas party Saturday.  I will REALLY need a glass of wine or 4 to get through that night.  Drink 'til it's pink?  Anybody?

On another note: WHAT IS UP WITH MY SITCOMS SUDDENLY TALKING ABOUT INFERTILITY?!?!?  Whitney?  How I Met Your Mother?  You have forsaken my nights of laughter.  I'm glad you're bringing attention to things, but poop on you for the forsakening.

I Feel Loved

Another Award!  Thanks to Megan at "This Space for Rent," Robin at "I'm Polycystic Inside", and "The Cornfed Feminist" for this award.  I love getting these silly little things.  Makes me feel like y'all care. :)

But now I have to talk about myself and pick 15 people to lay this bad boy on.

Certain rules apply when receiving this award:

1. Thank the person who gave you the award!

2. List 7 things people may not know about you.
3. Pass the award to 15 other bloggers and notify them as well.

So here are my 7 things....

1. I performed in two professional musical theater shows back in the day.  One featured Phyllis Diller (who is not nice in person... at all).

2. My husband and I met on an internet dating website.  I was his first date and he felt like my three billionth.

3.  I hate feet.  I don't want anyone touching mine and I don't want to touch anyone else's.

4. My right ear is a little bit pointy.

5. You know how every girl has that one guy they dated who ended up being gay?  Well, my gay dude is also in prison for murder.  Like, shot a guy, wrapped him up in a rug, and left it in a closet murderer.  I win.

6. I studied ballet for 18 years.  One day I remembered I was short and it was time to find a career I could actually have.

7. I am a vocalist (soprano) and occasionally, when I'm lucky, people pay me to do it.

And now, the 15 people I would like to pass this award on to:

(If you've already gotten this - don't feel the need to fork it out to another 15 people. It's just a bonus award!  And consider this your notice if I forgot to post it on your blog.  I'm lazy today.)

1.  Rachel at Eggs in a Row.
2.  Izzy at Eggceptional Blues

3.  Jessica at Just Smile and Blog

4. Chanel at Just Waiting for My Turn

5.  Sarah at Bio Girl

6.  Lindsey at Adventures of Endo (and Pregnancy) in the Arctic

7.  Lauren at Not Just an Army Wife

8.  Carmela at One in Eight

9.  M at A Miracle in the Works

10. Gee at Gee Baby

11.  Jess at All I've Ever Wished For

12.  Amanda at My Life in a Nutshell

13. Pork Chop at BIAGO Baby

14.  Hope at Invisible Mother

15.  Belle at Scrambled Eggs

Interracial Marriage

On June 19th, we celebrate "Loving Day."  It's in celebration of the 1967 supreme court decision that made it illegal for states to ban interracial marriages.  It's hard for me to believe that just over 40 years ago, my darling husband and I would not have been able to be married in either of our home states.  But thankfully, that was 1967.  NINETEEN SIXTY SEVEN.

Today, a friend of mine who is married to a multiracial gentleman posted an article on Facebook about a church in KY that banned mixed race couples.

Are. You. Freaking. Kidding. Me.????

When I consider that there was once a day where I couldn't marry Mr. Right I think it's just nutty.  Really - it seems so weird to me.  Especially since 90% of the time I forget that he's Asian.  When people ask, "Where's your husband from?" and I answer, "Chicago originally," he has to remind me that that's not what they are asking.  I just forget because it's so not a big deal.  I hope my friends in the LGBT community will be able to feel the same way about their marriages.  That it was silly that people judged their relationships and tried to take them out of being.  But I guess I was just super naive to think that interracial relationships were well accepted now.

It appears that a few people in the church found the mere sight of this couple to be atrocious.  It all started when a seemingly lovely, well educated engaged couple led the congregation in song.  The pastor approached the woman's father and told him they were no longer welcome to sing at the church.  When the gentleman protested, it was put to a vote and the vote actually freaking passed.  The vote decided that they could worship at the church, but they couldn't be involved in services (you know, when people have to look at them) or be official members. Oh wait - they can be involved in funerals.  The church says it's in an effort to promote "greater unity."  WTF?

Now, I realize that a white/Asian marriage is probably more socially friendly than a white/black marriage.  But back in the day, the limits on interracial marriage we just that - interracial.  Not black, yellow, red, white, purple - just two people of different races could not marry.  In this day and age we do get funny looks sometimes in public, but I just chalk it up to us being short.  Face it, we shorties look kinda weird.  Especially in pairs.  I recognize the look of shock of the faces of the families I work with when they see our wedding photo on my desk for the first time, but they get over it quickly and that's that.  It's just a surprise is all.  They probably had him pictured in their heads and he was a white guy.  But day in and day out, we do not face any discrimination so to speak.  I have never really felt judged.  I think that the weird comments people make about it are kind of funny because they are so bizarre and ignorant that you just have to laugh. ("You'll have Jon and Kate kids!" "Can your mother-in-law pronounce your name?")  So I can't really imagine what it feels like to be this couple.  To be sharing your gift of song with a Christian worship community and then to be told you aren't welcome because they see something morally wrong with your relationship.  And the only thing they are seeing is the color of your skin.

I'm proud to be in an interracial marriage.  I'm proud to share two cultures and I'm excited about making our own merge of traditions to share with our child(ren).  We get to share our cultures with our extended families.  Both of our families learned so much in the wedding planning process - it was great!  Most of all, we plan on having a gorgeous hapa baby whose mere existence screams, "These people made me because they love each other."

Screw you random baptist church in Kentucky.  You don't know what you're missing out on by shunning this couple.

Okay, gotta run.  They are talking about freezing eggs on Whitney.

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.

Music Mondays

I know, I've been a blog slacker, but it's been chaos around here with loads of conferences and more to follow later this week.  I'll get better with the blogging, I promise.

In honor of Halloween, here's a fun Music Monday for ya!

My HSG Story

Part of my goal for my blog is to tell my story as it's happening so that other women going through the same thing can get the down low straight from the horse's mouth right after it happens.  So bear with me as I tell the story of my HSG today.

Before I left work, I took the 600 mg of Ibuprofen like my doc told me to do.  I went to the hospital and checked in as instructed.  I was then told to go up to radiology and check in there too.  Hospitals are fun!  I didn't wait too long with the sneezing and coughing people and I was brought back to the fabulous room where women are told to strip down and put on a gorgeous backless gown.  I got to keep my top on, but when you're super short, those giant things are just falling all over and it's a challenge to keep the bootie covered.  Anyway, I sat there in said backless gown for a good 20 minutes.  The only thing to read was "Parenting."  Swell.  Eventually some other women came to wait for their various tests.  They were just having MRIs and didn't need the gowns.  I did however learn from one woman about her Genie Bra.  She doesn't think it's very flattering and I would have to agree.

Finally, a doctor came to get me.  He was really really nice.  He wasn't my RE, but a gynecologist who is part of the fertility clinic I go to.  There was another gyne in the room as well as a tech.  He had me sit on the table and he described everything they were going to do, step by step.  Then I laid down on the X-ray table, bootie on some towels, and assumed the position.  Said position is to have the soles of your feet together and pulled up in a frog position.  18 years of ballet makes me quite talented at this feet.  Gyne #2 (I think he was probably a resident) talked me through everything he was doing.  He put in the speculum, which for some reason seemed larger than the run of the mill speculum.  More "jaws of life" than plain old pap speculum.  It pinched - but they always pinch for me.  He then cleaned off my cervix.  I heard that this part hurts, so I was prepared, but all I felt was a little bump.  He told me he was putting on the device that helps manipulate my cervix and asked me to cough.  That smarted a bit, but it just felt like a quick poke.  Then he put the catheter in.  Surprisingly, that part didn't hurt at all.  I was sure it would.

Here's where the hitch came in.  The radiologist wasn't there yet.  Apparently he was running late.  So here's me, frog positioned, vag akimbo, with three random strangers, waiting for the radiologist.  AWK-WARD!  Gyne #2 (who is "at the position") asks if I'm from the area.  SWEAR!  I said I was originally from St. Louis and the other doc says "Oh!  Beautiful city."  Now, there's a lot of good things to say about my home town, but beautiful isn't one I would use.  Obviously, we're struggling for small talk.  So I said that it would be more beautiful if we could manage to win the world series.  Turns out Gyne #1 is from Texas.  So yes friends, I laid on an x-ray table, naked nether regions with gear protruding, and talked baseball.  A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.  I was only waiting 5 minutes or so when the radiologist came in.  So we're now at a cooter count of 4.  Four strangers who viewed my lady bits today.

I'm pretty sure that you have to fail a personality test to be a radiologist.  I have yet to meet one with more social skills than my houseplant.  Dude didn't even say hello.  If I wasn't so nervous I would have introduced him to my vagina just to be an instigator, but I didn't.  He just asked if we were ready and we got to it.

It really didn't hurt so badly.  It's not something I want to do everyday, or ever again for that matter, but it wasn't as bad as I've seen it described.  I think part of it was that I was so fascinated by what was going on on the screen that I couldn't think about it much.  "Ouch, that's painf... Oh cool!  Look at that!"  Seriously, it's amazing.  Fallopian tubes are way longer, thinner, and curvier than I thought.  What a journey that little eggy has to take.  I'm always in wonder at how anyone ever gets pregnant.

Anyway, when the dye was going in, it felt crampy, but not nearly as bad as period cramps.  It only took a couple of minutes.  Apparently I was bleeding so he had to put the speculum back in and take care of that (the jaws of life speculum was the worst part for me, so twice was not my idea of a good time).  Then Dr. Texas went over everything with me.  Tubes are open, no fibroids or polyps.  I do have a T-shaped uterus and he said my doc will talk to me about whether he thinks it's an issue or not.  Dr. Texas just thinks it's a variation of normal (Dr. Google apparently thinks otherwise, but he also suggests that I must have been born in the 50s or 60s to have such a condition.).  They gave me a pad and some antibiotics and I was on my way.  I've been a little crampy and spotty tonight, but no biggie.

I heard Dr. Personaless, the radiologist, ask how many there were left to do and Dr. Texas said "Two more after Lisa."  I loved that he used my name and didn't just say, "after her."  So when I went back to change, there were two ladies sitting there.  When I came out of the dressing room, I whispered, "It's not that bad."  They both sighed and said thank you.  I hope it wasn't too bad for them either.

HSG

My HSG is today.  Wish me luck.  And by luck I mean that I don't have one of those Vagal responses.  Geez!

Music Mondays

I am a vocalist and find a lot of peace in music.  Since I have rehearsals on Mondays, I thought it would be nice for y'all to share in the peace I have when I'm immersed in music on Monday nights.  The piece below is one that always makes me feel calm and... enveloped for lack of a better word.  If the religious imagery bothers you, just close your eyes and listen (frankly I find it distracting, but it's YouTube - what can you do?).  I adore this arrangement and no one sings it like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.  I promise it will make you feel lovely.

Projects... AKA Keeping My Mind Otherwise Occupied

It's usually a good idea for me to have a project to work on so I stop googling things and making myself worry.  About a month ago, we had our house painted a nice gray/blue color.  It's lovely, but now my red chairs stand out like sore thumbs!  My latest project is covering them.  I'm not the best sewer in the world... okay I borderline suck at it.  I'm super short, so my momma taught me to hem for survival's sake, but that's about as far as I go.  I got some really nice upholstery fabric and spent a good chunk of the day making a cover.  One down, one to go!  I'm proud of it!

On the fertility front, I went to Wh.ole Foo.ds for the second time in my life to start a new diet.  The first time I went was the day before our wedding when we raided the southeast for all the blue hydrangeas we could find since ours did not arrive on time, but that's another story for another day.  This time I was dipping my toes into the organic world.  I read up on the "Endo Diet" and it didn't look right for me.  Hats off to the women that do it, but I just don't think I could go that extreme.  I'm a weenie and I like food.  So I looked at the peer reviewed research and I'm working on coming up with my own eating plan based on what I read.  I'm sticking to whole grains (which I try to do anyway, but I'll get better), nothing that has been given hormones, nothing processed, as organic as I can afford, plenty of fruits and veggies, limit the saturated fat, I already don't eat red meat or pork... and I'm thinking about giving up caffine.  I only have one cup of coffee a day and I gave up Diet Coke awhile ago, but it makes me cranky just to think about it!

Anyone have stories on how diet changed their symptoms? 

The Fertile Myrtle Pizza Parlor

Friday nights are date night.  Hubby and I go out and just have a fun date and enjoy each other's company.  I look forward to it all dang week long.  A couple of months ago, we hit up a pizza joint we really like.  It's a pizza and beer kind of place. So imagine our surprise when we found ourselves surrounded by little crazy children running around like they were ready to round up all the infertiles and put us on the pyre.  Well, that's how I saw it, but I tend to over react to such things.  Until Mr. Right said, "Is it me or is this place swarming with kids all the sudden?" I thought I was nuts.  When our pregnant waitress showed up, I was all set.

But this Friday, I was really craving pizza.  So I told Mr. Right, ya know what, we went kind of early last time.  Maybe if we go later in the evening there won't be so many kids around.  So that's what we did.  We walked in and it was grown-up-ville.  We breathed a sigh of relief.  The hostess took us back to a table, and there was a family with two small children next to us, but that doesn't bother me.  I just don't want to be at Chuck-e Cheese on date night, ya know?

So we sit down and the first thing I hear is "egg retrieval."  WTF?  So I turn my head and a very pregnant woman is loudly talking about her IVF experience.  At first I thought "SISTER!" but then I thought, "Dude, it's date night.  I don't wanna hear this right now."  Throughout our whole dinner, this chick was showing her friend pictures of her embies, talking about her progesterone level, her protocol, every visit to her RE ever. I'd like to say that I was excited to be privy to her success story, but in all reality, wanted to poke myself in the eye with a chicken wing. 

Then the table with the family got up to leave.  The very pregnant women picked up her 10 month old baby while yelling at the three year old to put down the crayons.  REALLY?!?!?  How do you even accomplish such a feat?  People can pop out babies in a row like that?  In real life?  Then the table across from us got up to leave - the woman at THAT table was pregnant.  All the while I'm listening to my IF sister talk about her time in the stirrups.  LOUDLY!  It was like the theme music to a ridiculous evening.

We got in the car and it went like this:

"Alright, we're not going back there again." 
He laughed and said "Well, why not?" 
"BECAUSE IT'S INFERTILITY HELL!"
"Maybe next time they'll perform an actual procedure on the table next to us.  OR maybe there's a secret in the pizza and we need to eat there more.  Think of it this way... at least it gives you something to blog about."

Damned right!

Kids Say the Darnedest Things... The Little Boogers

The general rule in my office is that the kids can say whatever they heck they want.  I love how kids just say what's on their minds.  It just comes flowing right on out.  So I don't mind it when some little sweetie looks at me and says, "Do you have any kids?"  because when a four year old asks, "Why not" the answer, "God hasn't sent us any yet" does the trick.  But do kids have some sort of radar to find infertile women and tug at their heart strings?  Do they smell it or something?  Infer-dar?  All week I've had the questions! 

"Do you have a Chinese baby?"
"Are you asking because you saw my husband's picture on my desk?"
"Yeah"
"He's Korean, and we don't have any kids yet."
"Oh.  Do you want a Chinese baby?  I think I want a brown baby"

That cracked me up. This theme of "Why don't you have any kids, Miss Lisa," has been insane this week!  And the other day, I got one that about killed me.  A little boy asked me if I had a son.  I said that I didn't have any kids, and that little darling put his hands on my desk, laid his chin on them and said, "Do you want a son?"

It took everything I had not to load him in my car.

Everyday Stresses

I've spent my evening on the phone with my dang student loans.  They switched to a new system which apparently inadvertently raised my payment by $444.  That's over twice what I pay on my poor person payment plan... and isn't happening.  I'm on the automatic debit plan, which they can't stop at this point, and all the options they give me to fix the situation screw me over royally.

But that brings me to this thought... It is so hard to keep my cool while we're dealing with infertility.  Every little thing that happens at work or at home feels like the proverbial straw.  I either want to totally flip out and pitch a hissy or crawl into bed and wake up when this is all over.  Mr. Right keeps reminding me that this could be a long road, so I'd better figure out how to deal with regular old stress now.  I know he's right, but just knowing that he's right makes me want to punch him in the face a little bit.

Even though I love him.

So What If...

We like to play the "When we have kids" game.  Of course, the farther we get into the infertility game the less we seem to play it, but you know the drill:

What will we name our kids?
Will they be musical like me or athletic like you?
Where will they go to school?
Will the look at all like me or will people think I'm the nanny?
If that screaming banshee in the pharmacy aisle at Target were our child, would you pop him one or give him a time out?

Today, my husband asked "If we have a kid and she's a really good gymnast or something, and she should train full time and drop out of school and do home schooling, would you let her?" 

I should have responded with, "When our daughter marries a member of the royal family, what should I wear to meet the queen?" but instead I just told him we'd cross that bridge when we come to it. :)

Back to the religion thing

I'm slowly processing this whole religion struggle I'm having.  Don't get me wrong, I'm for sure one of those "Cafeteria Catholics."  I know it's not a good thing to be and not something I should be proud of.  I have found a church "philosophy" that I love in Fraciscan parishes.  It is a warm, open minded, progressive, accepting environment.  Trouble is, I recently switched churches and don't know others in the congregation well at this point.  I'm thinking of confiding in someone at my old church to see what their thoughts are on the subject.  Or track down the woman I saw from my church in the RE's office, but something tells me she didn't want to be contacted.

Mr. Right reminded me that when we went to our Pre-Cana class I was outraged on what we learned in the NFP portion of the course.  I was excited to learn about it.  I wanted to know why the church doesn't allow for birth control and what made NFP more acceptable than a barrier method.  The instructors flat out told the class that they "Weren't going to get into that."  WHAT?  You want us to learn and embrace this method of planning our family and aren't going to tell use WHY we should chose this?  We just should because you said so?  And when they told us that birth control pills cause breast cancer and that by taking the pill you are causing an average of 8 abortions a year, I about flipped my lid.  I think, I HOPE, that the young couple they chose to teach this portion of the course was just uninformed, but shame on them for being so horrifically uninformed and shame on the parish for allowing those untruths to be taught.  Anyway, he told me this to remind me that for some reason, the church is off on the reproduction thing in general.  The best thing we can do is pray and follow our hearts.  For now, that's what we're going to do... and maybe get in touch with someone at my old church just so I can get an intelligent point of view on the subject.

And For My Next Trick...

I've never been a headache person.  I'd had maybe 2 or 3 migraines in my life.  Lucky girl.  I know.  I'm not trying to brag, just stating facts.

My body's latest trick seems to be landing a migraine on me on the first day of my period.  Now, when you are having trouble getting pregnant, the arrival of Aunt Flo tends to knock the wind out of you.  When you have endometriosis, the arrival of Aunt Flo has you in loads physical pain as well. So waking up the last few months to a temp below my cover line, a migraine, and an unwelcome visitor has been... well.. really really sucky.  And it seems that drugs to not calm this nasty headache.  And as a person with Endo - I have good drugs.  The only thing to do is sleep, and when I wake up - it's still freakin' there.

My body is being very very mean to me.  Very mean.

Anyone have any tips on how to get rid of these things?  I know it happens to lots of women.  Help a sister out!

This is a Blog Free Evening

My boys are playin' and it's kind of a big deal.

GO CARDS!

The Religion Equation

Read up on this:

http://www.usccb.org/upload/lifegiving-love-age-technology-2009.pdf

I always thought that the church's feelings on reproductive technologies were that IVF is wrong because of the extra embryo factor (which is a problem most people with infertility don't contend with) and because a doctor is creating life and not God (something which I don't believe to be true any more than I believe that I make deaf kids hear without any intercession on God's part).  So when we started this journey, I wasn't really worried about it because I thought that if we needed to go the IVF route, it wasn't immoral in my mind.  We'd been doing NFP, after all.  That was what we were supposed to do.

We are planning an IUI cycle soon.  Apparently, even this is immoral.  The above document is riddled with inaccuracies, untruths, and exaggerations (they actually talk about cloning, for the love).  Based on those factors, my faith, my CULTURE, is telling me that my husband and I do not have a union that is to be blessed by "God's ultimate gift."  It is our job to suck it up and carry our cross.  We can adopt, but medicated cycles is about all we can do to conceive since surgery isn't expected to help in our situation. 

I can't even put everything I'm feeling into words right now.  I can't even really form a coherent thought on the subject.  I just know that I'm overwhelmed enough to sleep in tomorrow.  My butt will not be in a pew.  I started spotting today and my temp dropped.  I don't think I can handle another round of kneeling and begging to be included in the "ultimate gift" club while knowing what is going on in my body.  I can't sit there knowing that the community I am sitting with, the community that has been a central part of my entire life, teaches that God has not afforded me this gift and the only thing I can do about it is pray and pass the Clomid.

I know that my calling is to be a parent and I feel that Mr. Right and I are meant to carry a child.  I don't know how to reconcile this.  I just feel really really lost right now.