Nothing much to say.

We had a wonderful weekend, just the two of us (and the dog) bumming around at home.

I am now down 40 pounds after shedding 5 more pounds last week. (read !!!!!!!!!) I might actually reach my goal weight early. Wow.

People keep asking me my secret. I should produce an entire infomercial to explain my revolutionary new diet secret. Are you ready? Operators are standing by! Here it is. BURN MORE CALORIES THAN YOU EAT! Oh my, you wouldn’t believe the groans I get when I say this. People want to pop a pill or drink some super dooper water that will wash away the pounds. It is HARD work people! I still suffer through workouts on some days but it is getting easier and easier and I’m sleeping better at night, I have more energy during the day and I’m not starving by any means.

I have my knitting group tonight at the coffee shop and intend on splurging on a decaf “Milky Way” with skim milk. YUM

I have been getting High readings on the monitor for a few days now. Just waiting to see a Peak followed by a temp rise so I can start the dreaded 2WW.

As we were snuggling into bed last night T said “I love you lots and lots” and I said “Me too” and he said “You love yourself lots and lots?” and I said “Sure” and he said “Self-Love is good” and I said “Yes” and he said “Would you show me some Self-Love now?” and I cracked up. My poor perverted husband.

My fabulous friend who turned me on to blogs in the first place is pregnant after m/c and I will hold my breath and keep my fingers and toes crossed until she brings home this little bundle of joy. Oh please, please, please let this one stick!!!!!

All for now.

Communication 101

Step 1: Blue, shut up and quit thinking so much.
Step 2: Always blame the Clomid for irrational behavior.
Step 3: As much as I hate to say it, my husband is always right.

T and I talked a LOT last night. I cried and cried (are we seeing a pattern here?) The result is this. T's whole bitch was that he felt that he was more "in tune" with me and my needs than I was with him and his needs (not just sexually but in general, the sex was supposed to be an example). I agreed that this is probably true, I apologized and I promised to do better in the future. He apologized for not saying something sooner and waiting until it was eating a hole in him to mention it because it just made a mountain out of a moderate molehill.

We are good. Peace and tranquility has returned to the house of Trunks and I will continue to blame my mood yesterday on the Clomid because if I don't then I am just an overly sensitive whiny woman and I can't have that.

I am about to take my last Clomid pills for this cycle (THANK GOD) and I had a high on the monitor this morning so we shall resume knockin' boots until I can confirm O. Or maybe I just won't tell him when I O and we'll just keep knockin' boots until the cow comes home...er, I mean AF. Or something.

The sweetest thing ever: T and I were hugging after we had come to a mutual understanding last night and he said,"I wish you wouldn't cry". I told him not to take it personally, it was just going to happen that way. He said he knew but that it makes his heart hurt to see me that way. Awwww! This is why I fell in love with him when we were only 13.

Pardon me, I'm having a Clomid moment.

I’m in a mood. Not a rage like I expected from Clomid, just a mood. I thought Clomid made people swing wildly from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other. I envisioned sitting there minding my own business and then all of a sudden lashing out at my husband or coworker leaving them confused and looking at me as if to say “What the Hell is up with Dr. Blue and Mr. Hyde?” I have not experienced this…and I am grateful. Today however, things that are simply irritations on a normal day are driving me insane! If it wasn’t CD6 I would swear it was PMS…or depression.

So last Saturday night after returning from the wedding of a friend of mine T and I had a bit of discussion about how I suck as a wife. He has been feeling and that I haven’t properly appreciated his weight loss. He says he knows I love him, he never questioned that, but he doesn’t know if I desire him anymore. He says he’s been doing things to specifically get me turned on so that I will initiate sex more. People, I have no libido! I haven’t had one since college. I usually warm up to the idea once he gets the ball rolling, but he wants ME to roll the ball! I have actually been counting on that sexual peak (is that really a myth?) hitting a bit early since I just turned 30. I need help! He feels like a sperm donor and he said that now that we talked about it if I change my behavior he’ll know I’m just doing it because he said something, so I lose that way too. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. (Picture Lucy Ricardo screaming out WWWWAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!)

I need to talk to T about this bit of marital crisis we happen to be in but I don’t know if it is a good idea while I’m feeling like this. I am bound to say something I regret. DAMN! I tell myself I need time to think before I talk to T about this but I just can’t seem to come up with a resolution we will both be happy with, at least in the short run. The long run tells me that our relationship is like the stock market and we will get over this low and rebound. He told me I really couldn’t win in this situation and I agree, but I hate feeling like this. I feel like I have failed as a wife and if I can’t even do this right, how the Hell will I be able to maintain our relationship once we have a baby?

It isn’t like we have been fighting since Saturday. On the contrary, I think we are going out of our way to be kind to each other because we know we have both been hurt in this. It is this sickening sense of falseness that bothers me the most. I hurt him and I am so sorry about that. I feel sick thinking about it. I apologized and I cried and I cried and he held me. We are both a bit perplexed about where to go from here.

Now here is the kicker. I will not let TTC ruin our marriage. It has been strained already and we are still in the charting with Clomid stage. FUCK THAT !!!!! I will not lose him for a phantom baby that doesn’t even exist yet. I don’t think we would break up, I can’t imagine a situation that might cause that. When I speak of losing him, I mean losing him the way I lost my parents, emotionally not physically. They were there but I didn’t feel loved. I’ll be damned if I will have a marriage like that.

This will work itself out in the end but in the meantime, I feel like I’m walking on egg shells at home. I feel like my every word and action is being questioned. I just want to cry. I don’t even want to go to my massage today, I’d rather skip it and just curl up in bed and cry until I sleep. I can’t do that though, T will be home and want to know why I’m crying and I just don’t know if I can explain it all verbally. We didn’t have sex last night even though I know he wanted to so now I feel obligated to do it tonight whether I feel like it or not. Like I’m not allowed to not want it whenever he gets the idea in his head…which is often.

I am caught between a dick and a hard place!

I just want to feel confident that what I am feeling is me and not the Clomid. I've never had any side effects from the Clomid before (except cysts) so I don't even know if maybe I'm making that up to excuse my mood.

FUCK !!!!

Groin Pull, now with Super-Sized Ovaries!

I started this new weight machine at the gym this weekend. It works hip abduction (pushing out, you know, like in the stirrups) and hip adduction (squeezing in). The important part to note is that out was just fine, in was a bit more of a challenge. Being the stellar athlete that I am (Geez, did you see my eyes roll on that one?) I pushed through and did my sets and reps with my breathing, etc. This may not have been the best approach.

For two days now the muscles that connect my legs to my torso (adductors) have been very unhappy with me. I go to stand up and I get pain between my legs on both sides of my most nether of regions. I get comfortable in a sitting position and then moving to the upright they tighten up and don't want to stretch out that far causing me to grimace and stoop like an old woman (I am a bit crotchety at the ripe old age of 30) and most of the time I am able to keep from groaning. Most of the time.

I have always had "tight hips". I took yoga classes regularly for a while and the teacher was told me I had this problem. I could usually get into a position but getting back out of it was another story all together. I have found this to be true in bed as well. We can do what we do and after, T will ask if my legs are broken. They are fine during, while I'm in whatever position I happen to be in. It is moving out of that position and usually trying to straighten my legs after that causes problems. Maybe I need a bit of oil in my joints like the Tin Man?

For the past two days (CD3 and 4) I have been taking my 100mg Clomid like a good girl. I am also back on the Met after taking the weekend off to wallow in a martini and a few cold beers. I have been feeling rather full in the lower abdominal area. It feels like my ovaries are the size of overgrown lemons and bouncing around in my abdomen like astronauts in the zero gravity training room. (Boing, Bounce, Boom)They are sore. I can't imagine waiting another 10 days to ovulate if I'm this full already.

The trouble is this. The two pains, the inner hip pain and the ovary pain, combine to form one big sphere of pain in that whole general region. (whimper) I have learned that I squeeze my thighs tightly together while I drive. I have learned that it hurts when I lift one foot off of the gas to press the brake. ouch. I have learned that I tend to have a large stride, which has gotten shorter in the past couple of days.

I am hoping both of these issues resolve themselves before (if) I do ovulate because sex sounds like the last thing I want to do feeling like this.

In which Frump Girl pretends to be a Hottie

My husband stares at me a lot. I will be sitting there watching TV and all of a sudden, I realize he isn’t facing the television. He is facing me. He will sit there and just watch me watching TV. When I notice this I’ll say “You’re staring at me again” and he’ll say something like “Does that bother you?” I want to say “Yes! Knock it off! You’re making me self-conscious!” but really, why do I care if he listens to the TV and stares at me. Why do I care? I don’t know why, but I do. I do care.

He has done this as long as I can remember. Every time I see him staring at me I mention it and he shrugs and says something to the effect of “I just like looking at beautiful things”. This should be heartwarming. I know. I believe that HE thinks that I am beautiful. I do not believe this myself. It is just not in my genetic make up to be a “hottie”.

This is a new trend. Ever since we have been on this weight loss thing, he has taken to calling me “HOT!” I told him he seems more interested now that I have lost so much weight and he has reassured me that it is the fact that we have more energy for sex now than we had before we started exercising. This is true; exercise is great for improving your sex life. This however does not explain why he didn’t call me hot BEFORE I lost 34 pounds.

Some people would argue my hotness with me. “Blue,” they would say, “You are tall, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. You have proportionately large breasts and your weighty bulges are morphing into sleek curves. You, my friend, are a hottie!” This makes me uncomfortable. This makes me feel like more people will pay attention to me. T said that he has seen people in the store, at the gym, wherever…looking at me. I have not seen this. He is not the jealous husband type. I think he is actually proud that people might glance at me twice but he gets to go home with me. He knows that I don’t even notice these glances. I really don’t.

I don’t disbelieve him. I just don’t understand the whole concept. He is the most honest person I know, brutally so at times. I do not believe for a minute that he would lie to me. I just don’t see what he sees.

Apparently, I have neglected to show proper appreciation for his physical transformations as well. He has paced me in this weight loss. He also started using hair clippers to tame his gorilla-esque body hair. He looks good, he feels good and I have not complimented him on these things. That bothers him. He is upset that I don’t initiate sex unless I am ovulating. It is not that I find him unattractive or undesirable. I do desire him, but no more now than before he lost the weight. He speaks of his former self as a “fat ass”. I never saw him that way. I never saw him as overweight. True, he has shed a whole set of spare tires in the last 6 months. I have seen this change in him, but I never really saw him as a fat person before so I guess I didn't mention how much better he looks now.

How do I see myself? As Frump Girl. You know, from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. They are having dinner on their first date and he has just realized she is the same girl he saw at the restaurant. She says that she had been going through a stage…up until now. She had been Frump Girl. He says, “I don’t remember Frump Girl, but I remember you.” Awww, I want to cry. I think this is what T means when he stares at me (which he did even when I was at my heaviest). He loves me for who I am on the inside; it has nothing to do with how I look. However, he likes the way I look too. He likes pointing me out as his wife. I think he is proud to be with me. I guess I haven’t mentioned his weight loss because his looks don’t matter to me. He is attractive, he shaves his head, has a large goatee and has the most penetrating hazel eyes that look bright green if he wears a green shirt (but he won’t, he is one of those only-wears-black type of people). I am attracted to him. So why haven’t I told him that? What the Hell is wrong with me that I would take my loving thoughtful and adoring man for granted?

I am now trying to do two things. I am trying to shed myself of my Frump Girl self-image and I am also trying to become more outgoing, at least where T is involved. I have a plan for the former, I am at a complete loss with the latter since anything that I force myself to say or do will come out phony sounding and he will think I am only doing it because he complained that I didn’t. On the other hand, practice makes perfect and maybe after a few kind words here or there or an instance of jumping his bones when he wasn’t expecting it things would start to seem more natural for both of us.

The plan for the Frump Girl eviction is working on embracing my feminine side. I grew up a tomboy. I wear jeans and T-shirts. Not those cute fitted T-shirts they have now, but regular old T-shirts, with stuff printed on them promoting various sports teams, NASCAR drivers, places we have visited or charity walks in which I have participated. Not exactly stunning attire. I wear big sloppy clothes because they hide my body. I am not a very show-offy kind of dresser. I am hoping that by buying some more form fitting clothes I will gain the confidence to appreciate the way I look now. I still have another 12-20 pounds to go, but it is a start. I also have ordered some cosmetics (from a party where the sales woman is trying to earn a pink car) and hope that by brightening up my features a bit I might see them as worthy of those second glances. You never know, it might work.

It is easy to look myself in the mirror and say that I need to raise my self-esteem. It is quite another thing to actually do it.

NEXT !!!

My boobs no longer hurt, the color on the TP is getting lighter and lighter, that pain near the right ovary is getting farther and farther between twinges and my temp yesterday morning was 97.5. Are we reading anything into this? Still want me to pee on a stick? Anyone? Anyone?

Yesterday afternoon T and I met up and went together to see my GYN, Dr. WaitnSee. T was very excited about his first trip to the gynecologist's office and was a bit disappointed he didn't get to see me naked with my feet up in the stirrups.

Maybe next time, Dear.

We filled her in on my current cycle, how I ovulated on my own (she was very proud, I could tell), the spotting, etc. We told her we have the appointment set up for T to see the urologist (Dr. JellyFinger). She gave me a referral to have a "lesion" taken off my left side. (I had it checked years ago and was told it was not cancerous and nothing to worry about but T is freaked out about it so I shall have it removed.) She said that on CD24 or 25 of my next cycle we will do an endometrial biopsy. I looked this up online and the general consensus is "ouch". So, you know, I have THAT to look forward to.

I have the lab slip and will go tomorrow to get blood drawn to check my progesterone level and also my thyroid.

We are getting a new insurance policy through that place with the loud duck. Ask about it at work! It will cover prenatal visits, hospital stay and delivery, extra $ for a C-section and best of all it will pay my salary for 12 weeks of maternity leave. Sounds good right? What's the catch Blue? Well, yeah, that's just it. We are signing up in the month of April which means I'M NOT ALLOWED TO GET PREGNANT until May 1st. This is just the type of Murphy's Law situation I have been waiting for! It HAS to work right? Because if my state of non-un-pregnant-ness is confirmed by a doctor before the month of May then we do not get the benefits! PERFECT!!!!

This morning my temp was 97.1. I had full blown brown blood spotting. I had cramps. I had low back pain. I took 800mg of ibuprofen. I am irritable.

NEXT!

If I didn't over analyze, what would I do all day?

The term cycling pretty much implies that you go in a circle. You start out in a certain direction and in the end, you find yourself right back where you began. Maybe that is our problem. Maybe if we called it something more linear sounding it would have a different ending? I’ll have to work on that.

This cycle…um, I mean this particular linear time frame of menstrual between-ness…has been somewhat odd for me. It is my first time using the monitor and so far, I like it. I have not been surprised by anything that I have seen with the exception of having peak days on CD13 and CD14. (Geez, I’ll have to change those initials too once I figure out what to call a thing I’m doing.) I say that I was surprised because I have had much trouble with OPKs and have only seen a couple positives in the past six months and I didn’t really trust those. Also, I am used to ovulating around CD17 or so (on Clomid). I do believe that I can confirm ovulation for the first time. I had two peak days followed by a rise in my temperatures. If it looks like ovulation and hurts like ovulation (pinching abdominal pain and sore boobs) then I feel safe to call it ovulation. We did what we were supposed to do three days prior, two days prior, the day of and the day after I ovulated gaining me a “High” ranking on my Intercourse Timing monitor on that friend of the fertile site.

This all seems well and good right? Right. Hold on, we’re not done yet.

Since CD15, which was the day after ovulation I have had pain on the right side of my abdomen. It feels sort of cystish. I don’t really know. I know it hurts and I believe that it is coming from the general area of my right ovary. It is sometimes a sharp pain, sometimes muted and sometimes it isn’t there at all. Very unpredictable.

In addition, since CD15 I have been having a strange sort of spotting. I have had a bit of tinting on the TP. Not spotting like before AF but just a hint of color when I wipe. Last Thursday our …um, get together…was quite vigorous and when I got up to get dressed I saw a red dribble of liquid slip down my leg and stain my sock. Can I be the first to raise my hand and say “ewwww!” I cleaned myself up and put on a panty liner just in case but that was it, no more.

I am still (CD23 now) seeing the color on the TP and feeling that pain on the right side. I have also been dealing with (What? Is this too much already?) a bit of constipation. I have been able to have a movement everyday but they are VERY difficult with much straining and labor-like breathing involved. (Push for a count of ten, take a deep breath in, tuck your knees to your chest and push again. Maybe I need 10 people in the room counting aloud and cheering me on?) These have all been followed by full on bloody TP. Not a simple tint but blood. Nothing on the undies, just the TP. (JenP, I totally thought of you with the whole -Do you know which hole the blood is coming from?- thing! It is most definitely NOT coming from my ass so don’t go there!)

My boobs hurt for a week just around ovulation but they have stopped now. I must say, I am a bit disappointed. I was hoping they would continue to hurt and this would be it. Not sure now.

How about the fact that my temps are flat? 97.9 day after day after day. I used to think this was due to the progesterone, but I'm not taking the progesterone this time and I have the SAME temps and they are the SAME every day! No, it is not a faulty battery in the thermometer, I thought that before and replaced it, still getting the SAME results.

Have you had enough? No? Not yet? OK, how about my spongy cervix? I have felt my cervix when it is firm, like the end of my nose. I have felt my cervix when it is soft and squishy. I have felt it open and closed. Concerned about the spotting I decided to check it out. Spongy. Ladies and Gentlemen I think SpongeBob Bloody Pants has moved into my vagina and has taken the place of my cervix. That little identity thief even brought along the prosthetic nabothian cyst to try to throw me off track! I could feel the firmness of the cervix beneath his lumpy sponge-like exterior. WTF? Sunday was the first day in a week that it started feeling more normal. I don’t know if that is good or bad.

Where am I going with this? Well, this linear time frame of menstrual between-ness has been quite different from any I have had before. I have never been pregnant before so I am of course wondering if those two things are enough to draw any conclusions at 9DPO. I’m guessing not.

What I hate the most is that this has all been an open invitation to Hope. I think she’s kind of like a vampire. She can only come in if you invite her. Damn! Just when you are trying hard NOT to invite her in, that is when the little tiny bit of subconscious slips up and waves her over. Not to mention the hubby is thinking that this month we actually did everything right so wouldn’t it be cool if I were pregnant so we didn’t have to go to the urologist and get that referral to the RE.

Yeah, wouldn’t that be cool?

I'll have what she's having

We visited friends in Cleveland this weekend. We left our house and it was in the 50s and clear. On the way down we drove into rain which turned into slush which ended in heavy snow. All this was accompanied by huge gusts of wind which shook the car and "helped" us change lanes...involuntarily. We were delighted to get back to Michigan and have it warm(er) and dry if not actually sunny.

Our friends have three kids ages 3, 4 and 5. They love me. They are so sweet and were so excited to see us. We took them to see the movie Robots and then they talked about it the WHOLE REST OF THE DAY!!!! The 3 year old had to go potty about 3 minutes before the end of the movie. His mom took him and I stayed with the other kids. By the time they returned the credits were rolling and so were the tears. He had a minor...scratch that, MAJOR meltdown at the fact that he missed the ending. He screamed bloody murder the entire ride home. The 4 year old was crying because we didn't scrape the ice off of her window (side window in the back of the mini-van, not necessary for driving purposes) and the 5 year old complained that his feet got wet from all the SPLASHING he had done in the huge slushy puddles in the parking lot (he failed to mention that his splashing had completely soaked both of my pant legs half way to the knees, but HIS foot was wet, major tragedy). Fun Times! My friend looked at me about ready to cry herself and said "This should be good birth control for ya." I smiled and said "Apparently I don't need any!" That got her laughing and I think she felt a bit better.

They asked us how things were going. We told them that we were getting closer and closer to medical procedures as opposed to the old fashioned way. They asked if we would do those procedures or just adopt. (Her words, not mine) I said that I didn't really want to do the procedures but that we would probably give them a try. They both asked us multiple times if we really wanted kids as their three little ones ran around the house at top speed and threw rice, carrots and crumbles of cake all over the floor.

Funny. They didn't ask us this when the kids would run up clear out of the blue, hug their legs and say "I love you!" or bring them a picture they had just drawn. They didn't ask us this when they were reading good night stories sitting on the couch, each of them with a child on their lap and another one between them. Those were the times they didn't question why we wanted to be parents. Those were the times they enjoyed what they had and were thankful for their amazing family.

NOTE: This post may appear twice, I emailed it yesterday and it has yet to show up so I am posting it directly. If I see a duplicate entry I'll remove one. Sorry about the trouble, thanks be to Blogger.

Words, Words, Words

Last night we talked about IVF. I told him that I wasn’t interested in IVF. To me it is such an investment of time, money and most of all hope and psychological well being that it just isn’t worth the heartbreak if it doesn't work out. It is worth it to him. With the low count it might lead to ICSI, I'm not sure. He wants to try it, so we will. My challenge will be convincing him to give me the shots. Is it physically possible to complete an IVF cycle and give myself all the required shots? He has a thing about needles. He hates them and has refused to help me in this portion. I say that if he is the one pushing the IVF he doesn’t have the right to be uncooperative.

We talked about domestic adoption. We talked about how I LOVE newborns and would really like the opportunity to care for my child as a newborn. We talked about the long wait and risk of the birthmother backing out at the last minute.

We talked about how international adoption feels pretty comfortable but he feels very strongly about sticking to Eastern European countries at this point. Later on down the road, he said he might feel more comfortable with an Asian or Guatemalan child but for now, he just isn’t there yet.

We talked about how we can discuss these things repeatedly and we may come up
with different answers each time. The most important thing we can do is to be honest with ourselves and with each other and with the doctors and eventually with the adoption agency.

I am OK with everything we talked about with the exception of the refusal to give me shots. He thinks his mother should do it since she gave his father shots during his cancer treatments. We’ll deal with this when we get to it. I would like to try IUI first, just to give it a chance. I am much more comfortable with that line of intervention at this time. (All of this is being discussed before we have even set foot in the RE's office. That might make some decisions for us right there.)

My husband got a call from a friend the other night who he hasn’t spoken to since September. My husband answered the phone with a typical “Hello” and was answered by the non-typical “So, are you pregnant yet?” Being quick on his feet, I thought he came up with the perfect answer. “You know, I peed on a test just this morning and it was negative!” I love that man.

I found out that his buddies at work no longer refer to me by name. They used to page him to the phone when I called by announcing over the intercom that The Boss was on the line. Har.Har. Now I have become The Wife Who Wants To Get Knocked Up. It’s catchy, don’t you think? They also told him if he were a real man he would have gotten the job done by now. We know they are kidding and they don’t mean to hurt us but come on, is that really necessary?

Sticks and stones may break my bones but WORDS can make my soul bleed.

Things that make no sense...

Out of nowhere -

T: I hope you’re pregnant.

Blue: (almost choking on the bite of sandwich I was eating) Well, yeah, me too.

T: Then we wouldn’t have to do all this doctor stuff.

Blue: Hmm. (Thinking I SO could have come up with a better reason than that.)

T: I’m having trouble getting over this finger thing. I would be totally different if it were a woman sticking her finger up my ass. (To check his prostate.)

Blue: Uh-huh.

T: I mean I would rather have a 480 year-old-woman stick her finger up my ass than Dr. Finger. (Yes, T gave the doctor that name.)

Blue:

T: I would rather have an UGLY woman stick her finger up my ass than Dr. Finger.

I am getting the feeling he is not looking forward to going to the urologist.


Dreams:

The good...sort of -
So I had a dream yesterday morning that Andy Dick, the actor, was in love with me and trying to lure me away from T. It almost worked. There was a moment when Andy and I were alone and it was breaking my heart that I was breaking his heart. I think I bought him a candle as a present. I told him that I felt that I could fall in love with him if given the opportunity but that I was with T and it just couldn’t happen right now. I woke up feeling melancholy. I was happy though to find out just how devoted I am to T even in my subconscious! I also found it interesting that I chose a funny non-conventionally-good-looking guy over someone like Brad Pitt who is empirically drool-worthy.

The bad -
This morning my dream was not so good. I dreamt that a man who looked like this with longish scruffy hair(I knew when I woke up that he reminded me of the guy in that movie with the phonebooth in it, which I haven’t seen) was trying to break in the back door of my house. I was on the inside of the door trying to get the latch to catch so that I could lock it. We pushed back and forth until I finally got it closed. Then I sat down behind the door so he couldn’t open it. He pulled out a drill and started pulling the hinges off the door (the hinges are actually inside but they were outside in my dream). He yelled that if he was in the house by now I would know that he was an arsonist too. He was very angry and obviously hated me with a passion. His intent was to rape and kill me. Don’t ask me how I know this, I just did, it was a dream thing. I must have passed out on my stake out of the door since I suddenly woke up and realized he wasn’t fighting against the door anymore. I looked out the little peephole and saw him laying on the ground, handcuffed, and grinning up at me. There were a couple cops standing around, probably waiting for their superiors to get there. I didn’t think the guy was properly restrained and was afraid he would break free and either run and get away, or come after me again. He said that he would get my husband on his way home from work and he would kill A and M the other couple that lived in our house (not really, but in the dream they did) too. Later we found out that he knew all our names, where we worked, etc. since he had taken our mail on several occasions and we vowed to get a locking mailbox. All I have to say is…Huh?

Needless to say, I will not be seeking out any Colin Farrel movies anytime soon. I didn’t even know that was his name until I just googled phonebooths. *shiver*

How much more can you pack into a weekend?

What a fabulous weekend. T and I took Friday off to give ourselves a long weekend. We relaxed, we watched TV, he played his video game,I knit myself a purse and matching shawl, we ordered in BBQ ribs and ate chocolate malt cake. I took a couple days off the Metformin and I drank vodka martinis, Miller Lite (I let out my first real belch in 3 months!) and Bicardi Silver. YUM! I watched my cooking shows taped on the DVR, I watched Adoption Stories and cried as usual. We went to the gym, we had breakfast with my uncle on Sunday, we played pool and we talked...a lot.

-We are now officially a team and will go to all doctor appointments together starting Thursday at my GYN.

-We agreed insurance or not we are going to see the Fertility God and will ask for a referral on Thursday from my GYN. If she doesn't give us one we will go anyway.

-We will go together to his urologist appointment the first week of May.

-I found out the reason he hasn't wanted me to see a male GYN/RE is because he is afraid I will be molested and he doesn't believe that I would stop it right away, I'm too trusting. (I have always thought his reservations were about another man seeing my private parts, this new revelation really shocked me.) He wants to be in the room so if he sees any sign of distress from me he can kick the doctor's ass. I told him I doubt this will be necessary but he would feel better if he went and I would prefer for him to go just so we both know what the doctor says, so he's going with me. He believes that I would not stop a doctor from touching me inappropriately because I could not give him the reason that women get a rectal exam as part of the annual exam at the GYN. He simply could not believe I let the Dr. stick her finger up my ass every year and I've never asked what she's looking for. Now how do I hold my husband back while in the stirrups? Anyone?

-T questions his second SA results. He wants to know how he could lose 30 million sperm in a month. 30-Million! If it were 30 million dollars people would stand up and take notice, but since they are just sperm we get a referral to the urologist and a shrug of the shoulders. He thinks the lab made a mistake. We figure between the urologist and the Fertility God we will repeat the test at least two more times so we'll be able to have some definitive answers.

-We decided the white trash that live across the street is close enough to a trailer park so we will sneak over and make use of their bushes some dark night. This will allow me to postpone my career change to crack whore for at least a little while.

In other news:

-We got a long rambling message on our answering machine from T's mother saying something about the Terry Schiavo case and she is going to call her lawyer and would T be willing to sign off on something saying they could pull the plug on her, etc. T said she better be careful, he'll pull the plug now. (You must understand that no one in his family recognized his birthday until after the fact when they called to tell him all the stupid reasons they didn't send a card or call on his actual birthday. He was quite hurt that the only cards he received were from my aunt and my grandparents. What can I say, it is better to be an Elephant than a Trunk.)

Saving the best for last:

-I ovulated this weekend...on my own...no Clomid...Oh My God!!!! I feel like I won the lotto! I've had sore nipples for days, three bars and an egg on the monitor Saturday and Sunday and my temp went up this morning. Holy Shit my body actually worked! Shh, don't tell anyone, maybe if we don't mention it, it might happen again!

Anyone have a shrub we can borrow before the tornado gets here?

T and I decided last night that the only way to get pregnant without medical intervention is to quit our jobs, sell the house and two cars and move to a trailer park where we will have sex in the bushes out behind our trailer...or the neighbor's. You know, whichever.

Our alternative "therapy" will be for T to go into work with some sort of weapon and go on a rampage and the day he is locked up I will magically find out that I am knocked up. Then I'll take my baby to see his/her daddy in prison.

Both are good plans I think. We'll try the trailer park first. We can always hold out hope that T gets laid off this summer, right?

Our last ditch effort will be for me to become a crack whore down on Division. I already have the stained T-shirt and sweatpants. We hadn't planned on using a sperm donor but this might just work out.

I found out today that T's appointment will not be with the Fertility God of choice but rather with a urologist I've never heard of. Damn. I blame the nurse for getting my hopes up. T's appointment isn't until May 3rd. WTF?!?!?!

I am to go see my GYN next Thursday because she hasn't seen me since ... January. Not much to see, still not pregnant, what could she possibly need to see me about? I guess I'll find out next week.

I need that necklace thing with the button

I have fallen, and I can not get up. I think it is because someone has ripped the rug out from under me. The nurse called yesterday and really threw me for a loop.

The Good News:
- That “cyst” that the tech told me about on Monday was actually a dominant follicle. Is it really that hard to tell the difference? I guess so. Does that mean the pain I have been feeling is pre-O pain? For over a week? Seems strange to me. (I got a high on the monitor yesterday and today but my temp is still low it appears that I am working up to something.)
- We got our referral to the Fertility God that I’ve been wanting to see. This however comes with a twist (see The Bad News).

The Bad News:
- T’s SA came back. 17.6 mil/ml down from 47.5 mil/ml. How could this happen when he has been healthy, taking vitamins and getting stress relief from exercise?
- The referral to the Fertility God is actually for T, not me like I had originally anticipated. I assume he will work with us as a couple since it takes two to tango so to speak.

OK, to look at this in a positive light…must.force.myself.to.be.positive! I supposed we have been traveling towards a destination and I knew that the RE would be a stop along the way. I thought we would get there by going a certain direction (ie. me not responding to the Clomid) and here we are, someone has shown us a different way to get there, this path is just a bit more scary than the one I planned to take. I suppose it is just another means to the same end, I just wasn’t expecting it. I’m still in a bit of shock.

I’ve written before that I can handle knowing that my body doesn’t work properly. I’m used to that. I’m comfortable with that. T is a whole different subject. When it was just me, I felt a bit more in control. Not that I could control my Endo or Thyroid, but I understand those things and I know my body. I can feel subtle changes and have pretty good intuition about how things are going. With T, I am completely lost. I have no control!!! Have I ever mentioned that I am a control freak? What? You guessed that already? How did you know? Huh.

I am trying to think ahead to see what this means for us. IUI most likely. I have been hoping to avoid injectibles. I do not have a problem with needles, but I know that T does and will be absolutely no help in this matter. Plus, our insurance won’t cover them.

To top it off and just put a capper on the week, our dog is being a picky eater lately. This doesn’t sound like too big of a problem for most dogs but our dog has a condition where she produces too much stomach acid. If she goes for a long period of time without eating, she throws up bile. To counter act this we feed her small meals 4 times each day. 5:30am, noon, 5pm and 9:30pm. She also gets 1/2 a Tagamet pill morning and evening to help cut down on the stomach acid. She has been skipping meals this past week. She’ll sniff the food, look at us and walk away. Other times she dives right in and is looking for more. We’ve been cleaning up bile for a week now. (She does some every day and is still drinking and eliminating right on schedule so no worries about dehydration or anything) I am sure it is due to the house being in somewhat of an upheaval with the fridge, stove and entertainment center pulled out from the wall so that T could put trim down behind them. She’s just a bit out of sorts, HATES change. I’ve discussed this with people since that is what is going on in my life… outside of my uterus… and do you know what they have told me? I have had more than one person tell me that she is reacting to the stress that T and I are feeling about our infertility. It is our fault the dog is not eating. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, now my infertility is starving my dog. Thanks, thanks a lot, that helps LOADS.

Then I think about people I know who should NOT be reproducing but just can't seem to figure out where those babies are coming from. Why is it so easy for them and not for us?

I know, I know, life isn’t fair. BLOW ME !!!

I guess I lost that positive outlook, huh?

Bladder of Steel !!!!

Every month when my period starts I make a call to my GYN’s office and schedule an ultrasound to check for any cysts caused by the Clomid the cycle before. I have been doing this since September. I make my appointments for around 6am so I can go before work and I don’t have to alert the whole office that I am making monthly trips to the doctor’s for something reproductive related. They know we are trying, they know we are struggling, let’s just leave it at that shall we? Right.

The 6am ultrasound makes the drinking of water an issue. Everyone knows you are supposed to drink 32oz. of water one hour before your appointment. Well, I am not going to get up at 5:15 (my usual waking time) go to the bathroom, then hurry up to drink 32oz. of water before I get to the hospital at 6am. Not.Going.To.Happen. So, I just don’t pee when I get up. Simple enough even if a bit uncomfortable. Keep in mind that my Endo causes great pain when my bladder is full, or even slightly inflated.

I am taking this cycle off the Clomid to give my body a break and to find out the results of T’s SA, which was submitted on Saturday morning. We should get the results back from that towards the end of the week. I still needed to go in for the ultrasound since I took 100mg of Clomid last cycle. I have been feeling cystish pain in my right abdomen for about a week now, so I suspected they would find something this time.

I started using the monitor this cycle. The first cycle in use it has to figure out your cycle patterns so you go through many pee sticks. I knew it would ask for one this morning. Well, the whole not going when I get up in order to not drink for my u/s got in the way of this plan. The pee sticks only require 3 seconds of pee time. Could I only pee for 3 seconds and then stop? What if I couldn’t stop? Worst case scenario I have to slam down some water in a hurry and hope it gets through me fast enough.

I decided to give it a try. I peed right before going to bed last night to start with a clean slate. I had been drinking quite a bit of water all evening so I knew there should be plenty this morning. I got up, and went into the bathroom where I am rebelliously storing my monitor although it told me not to due to moisture. I put it in a Ziploc sandwich bag, I figured that would be safe enough. Sure thing, it asked for a pee stick. I thought, well, here we go. I peed for about 4 seconds getting about 3 seconds worth on the stick then stopped. OY! This is not for the faint of heart. I clenched up for all I was worth, got dressed and took the dog out to pee. I’m glad one of us got to feel better. (I never got to see the result on the monitor since it was still reading the test when I had to leave. I’ll check it tonight but I am expecting a Low day since it is only CD8.)

I got to the hospital and of course was the only one in the waiting room since no one in their right mind would schedule an ultrasound for 6am. I waited and read through the December issue of Country Living and a fishing boat magazine with a wonderful article on how to store live bait to keep it fresh.(Did you know there is special dirt to store your worms that turn them green so they are easier to see and supposedly the fish like them better that way.) I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m shopping for a bass boat.

The tech looked at my chart and said “So you’ve done this before haven’t you?” I said “Once or twice.” She asked if I had done my drinking and I knodded yes while secretly hoping that I hadn’t let out too much on my pee stick. This apparently was not a problem since she complimented me several times on my nice full bladder. It was uncomfortable enough; it should have been full. The pictures were so clear and so good that she didn’t even have to do the transvaginal today. My first time ever. Usually the pelvic doesn’t show enough (tipped uterus, trouble maker) and they have to break out the dildocam but not today!

I told her that in January I had a 5cm x 2cm cyst on the right side and that I have been feeling pain on the right side for about a week. She confirmed there was a 2.5cm cyst on that side. I wonder why this one is causing pain when the other one didn’t hurt until it ruptured. Since I am taking this cycle off the Clomid it should just go down on its own but I guess I won’t know for sure until next month. Stupid ovary.

How ya doin' Blue?

Still snotty thanks!

 

My uncle sent me an email telling me his cold was still bothering him.  He said he was still blowing his nose quite often and then added "sorry, TMI".  If he only knew what I divulge to perfect strangers he would seriously shake his head.  TMI indeed!

---

I am supposed to test on Saturday so I expect AF will show up on Friday morning.  I can say this with some level of certainty after T's flu, my cold and only performing the procedure once anywhere near what may or may not have been O.  The real proof came last night when I went to my knitting group.  One of the ladies brought chocolate cookies with chocolate chips and filled with caramel!  I had not one (breaking my diet) but 2 cookies.  I would have eaten the whole container if no one was looking!  Shit. (Good news is I have officially lost 8 inches from around my waist AND my boobs haven't shrunk anymore.  I think they have hit bottom, WHEW!)

 

The good news is I called the RE clinic and had them send me an information packet.  I can have all the new patient paperwork filled out when I tell my OB/GYN that though she has been loyal (well, not really) all these years she's just not what I'm looking for.  Its not you, its me.  Or, Git 'er Done!  So, I'll be all set when April rolls around and it is time to make that phone call. 

 

We should have some fun scheduling the next SA.  T is taking his vitamin with herbal supplements daily like a good boy.  He does complain however that these pills seem to have turned his pee "neon" yellow and it "smells funny".  He is concerned if we do conceive the child might be radioactive due to his supplements.  Oh yeah, and the pills themselves taste like ass.  I wouldn't know as I haven't tried them but they sure don't smell very good.  The scheduling conflict comes out like so: We want him to have been taking the vitamins for a month, we need to be sure to abstain for at least three days prior to the test which means we also need to work around my next O time and also his Birthday.  We'll see how it goes, the SA may wait until April. :0)

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NOTE: This post was sent by email almost two weeks ago, I'll let it stand since I did intend on posting it here, but keep in mind that the events are no longer timely.

Low

My fertility monitor arrived yesterday. I put the batteries in all excited to start ‘er up and then I sat down to read the instruction booklet. First it said several thousand times on the box, on several pages of the book and even in the flyer inside the box of test sticks, that no product can guarantee conception. Yeah, I was hoping for that money back guarantee myself. Oh well.

I read about how to turn it on, how to use the test sticks, what the little symbols mean and what you are supposed to do in response. I read about low days, high days and peak days. I read about how you aren’t supposed to store the monitor in the bathroom because moisture could get into the machine and screw up the electronics. That is just so damn convenient isn’t it? An appliance that requires pee sticks to function should not be stored where, you know, you pee!

I read that I must wait until this morning to press the M button. The M button sets the time that you will use the contraption on a daily basis. You have a six-hour window of opportunity here. If you think that you will be making your first morning pee sometime between 6 am and noon then you hit the M button (does that mean menstruating, morning or motherfucking irritating? I’m not sure yet.) at 9am which gives you three hours before (6am) and three hours after (noon) as a window of waking times. Now, normally I get up between 5:15 and 5:30 during the week. I typically sleep in until 8 or 9 on the weekends but I have been known to sleep in until 10 on very rare occasions. I decided I needed to push the M button at 8am which would give me the 5 to 11 window. 8am no problem right? Well, except that at 8am I have already been at work for an hour. So, I smuggled the monitor into the office in my purse. I watched the clock like a hawk for an hour (yeah, I got a lot done) then I stuffed the monitor into my sweatshirt pocket (Friday is casual day, I LOVE Friday) and walked very casually toward the ladies room as if that green tea had just all of a sudden become noticeable in my bladder.

I turned on the monitor, I pushed the M button and set it for CD5 and it gave me the Low reading for the day. OK, I’m good to go.

My period started on Monday. Well, sort of. I started spotting Sunday, pretty normal dark brown, thick but with lots of mucus this time. Monday was more spotting, very thick and still mucus-like but it picked up and thinned out in the afternoon so I called it CD 1 and started a new chart. Tuesday was very light, then Wednesday I was back to spotting again. Yesterday I didn’t even wear a pantyliner. Of course my mind thought, wow, I wonder if it was actually implantation instead of AF. I didn’t have the usual cramps and have been feeling very cysty the last few days. Hmmm. So this morning I checked my chart and we are 13DPLSE (13 days past last sexual encounter) which wasn’t anywhere near what O should have been so I’m finding this highly unlikely. Probably annovulatory, maybe.

Tomorrow we will repeat T’s SA. Yes, I said we. I am very involved in this whole process apparently. No magazines or movies for my man, he wants it live! He noticed that I didn’t wear underwear to bed last night. The sign that AF is in town. He said “So, can you get some now?” I hesitated and said “Well, yeah, but I think we might jumpstart things again if we did it this soon.” He thinks it is highly unfair that he wants some, I can have some but we have to wait because of the SA. Poor guy. Last night in his sleep he rolled over to my side of the bed and I thought if he didn’t wake up the test would be shot and we would have to reschedule it. I was able to push him away from me and he rolled back over and continued sleeping. (He does that a lot actually, will roll over to me IN HIS SLEEP and start things and then wake up half way through and realize what we are doing. I of course am awakened right from the beginning and usually start out annoyed by the interruption in my sleep, but he is asleep and doesn’t respond to my protests. Sometimes he even remembers it in the morning. The thing is, its usually good, so I don’t mind so much.) The last SA was mostly good. Morphology was good, motility was good, the count was… low… according to the lab standards. We are hoping that the vitamins have done their job and he will be in normal range this time.

What else is low? Hope. I’m not depressed; I just don’t feel optimistic in the least. I mean nothing at all would convince me that all we need to do is this one other thing and then we’ll get pregnant. I just don’t see it. Of course, this goes back to my whole reverse psychology theory. Pregnancy will come up from behind and whap me on the back of the head like a 2 x 4 when I am least expecting it. Isn’t that how it goes?
OK, anytime then, I’m ready!
I’m NOT expecting it so, you know, whenever is good for you…
Hmm.

Happy Holidays!!!!

We received an envelope yesterday containing a Christmas card for us from the little boy we sponsor over in the Ukraine. It said the package from the Ukraine did not arrive in time to get them to us for Christmas but they sent them out soon after receiving them. It said the card was from O. He is 7 years old and a bit behind developmentally but “with [our] generous support” he is progressing steadily. The card was a store bought post card with a little square of paper on the back on which was printed a generic holiday greeting. At the bottom it said To: Blue (not T, just me) From: O. This was not the writing of a 7-year-old boy. I believe this was the writing of the social worker in the Ukraine who sends us our updates on how he is doing. I wish it had been a piece of paper with something unintelligible scribbled on it. I wish it were really from O.
Merry Christmas O! I think of you often and look at your picture up on the fridge almost daily.

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So today is St. Patrick’s Day. You probably don’t know this about me but I am Irish. I know, I know, EVERYONE is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. Elephant is an Irish name, some spell it O’Elephant but we just stuck to the more simplified version. Well, I might not actually be Irish either. The story goes that the first member of the Elephant family to come over to the States was English and was running away from the law so he changed his name and pretended to be Irish. I have no idea if this story has any base in reality or if it is just family legend but it is the only sort of family history I know so I’m sticking with it. The other story is that the name Elephant was bought during the Civil War. I guess that sort of thing happened all the time back then. I think the fugitive story is more exciting so I’ll go with that one. The Elephant name means a great deal to me.

When T and I were engaged I spent a lot of time contemplating my name. Tradition and social norms suggest that I would take on T’s last name, Trunks. I didn’t want to reject his name or his family but I didn’t want to give up my own either. You see I am the last of the Elephants in both name and bloodline. I have cousins but they are from my aunts who took on their husbands’ names so they all have different last names. My one uncle was married and divorced and does not have children. My brother died young. This leaves me, I’m it. Last man standing as it were. The Elephant family is a close-knit clan and I want my children to be a part of that. I want to pass down the traditions, the love and the name.

When we got married, I added T’s last name to the end of mine. I became Blue Elephant Trunks. The state decided to hyphenate it for me. On my license, it says Elephant-Trunks. This is a pain in the ass. When I call the doctor, go to the pharmacy, make hotel reservations, do anything that requires my name I have to try to figure out how they have me in their system. Sometimes it is just Elephant. Sometimes it is just Trunks. Sometimes they have Elephant-Trunks and sometimes Elephanttrunks. It is annoying. It irritates the person trying to look me up and they give me that look that says, “Damn feminist freak"! They think I’m an asshole who doesn’t know her own name. I smile sweetly and act as if I’m being patient with their out of date computer system which doesn’t recognize hyphenated or combined last names.

I want my children to have Elephant as a middle name. Boys and girls it will work just the same. It would actually make a really good first name but there is one little problem. In the real world, Elephant rhymes with Trunks. I just can’t do that to my kid. Plus, if I name one kid Elephant then what do I do for the other? I figured I would just go with the universal middle name thing. I think it is just easier for the kids that way. Their last name will be Trunks; not Elephant Trunks and they won’t have the confused looks from the other kids at school. (I remember the trouble once my mother was remarried and we didn’t share the same last name anymore. I don’t want to go through that again.)

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One more holiday to recognize. ThreeBee’s anniversary. I tried to leave you a comment but then Blogger flaked out on me. Sorry. I hope you have a marvelous weekend and enjoy the celebration of your life together. I totally understand the theory of “we are not who we were when we got together”. My husband and I have changed so much over the years but it just seems to work out for the better each time. You sound like you are glowing, I hope it continues. (And I don’t mean your skin *wink*)

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-This is the second time I have written this post since I had it all typed into Blogger and then it crashed. I will try the copy and paste method this time and see how it goes.

Thinking Positively

I believe I have found a way to ensure this next cycle will bring that ever elusive second line.

• For a mere dollar the single line on the dollar store test informed me that not only am I not pregnant but that I can declare the Sizzling Apple Pie I ate on Friday night (with ice cream and caramel sauce)  was just me PMSing and not actually cheating on my diet. 
• We are taking this next cycle off of Clomid to give my poor body a break. 
• "All Natural" is "in" these days anyway, right?
• T will repeat his SA this month to see if the super dooper "radioactive" multi-vitamins have helped raise his count. (My post about the "radioactive" vitamins is lost in email/blogger world somewhere.  They turn his pee neon yellow and he is afraid we'll end up with some sort of super-hero-like-mutated child due to this.)
• I ordered myself one of those handy dandy obscenely expensive fertiltiy monitors today. (discounted online, don't worry, not from ebay)
• Going natural, a way which has NOT worked in the past, I should be thinking "There is no way in Hell this will work". 
• Spending all that money on the monitor which I haven't purchased before now because it is obscenely expensive and of course I would get pregnant before it would pay for itself so why spend the money because it was obscenely expensive I have pretty much ensured that I will now get pregnant and I will not get my money's worth out of it.
• Reverse psychology works all the time right?
• Does it work when you are counting on it?
• I hope so.

Numb and Number

I actually have written a post or two this week but I sent them through email and for some reason they are taking their own sweet time about showing up on my blog so I will post this directly to the blog in the meantime.

I have had a question bouncing around in my head for a couple days so I thought that I would take it out and examine it.

Why am I not more depressed?

I say this because I have read blog after blog by women who can't pull themselves out of bed or change their sweat pants from week to week. I understand their heartbreak and I cry real tears for them, but not for myself. I get up and go to work and laugh and go on about my life.

Please don't get me wrong. I know it may sound as if I am saying that I am stronger than some others and that is completely the opposite of my intentions. Read the question again. I am surprised at myself for NOT being as these other women are, at least part of the time.

I have been depressed. I understand depression and the severe weight that it carries. What I don't understand is why I am not feeling it now, now that I am in the thick of it instead of just wishing I was here. (When I couldn't get T to agree to try I was envious of those who were trying. I felt like a player on the sidelines and I wanted to be in the game!)

My first response when asking myself this question was "Well, it is because you knew you would have trouble from the get-go and had accepted that so now you are just going through the motions".

Then I thought, "Well, maybe you are just detached from the TTC experience".

OK, but why? Is it because I truly have no hope of getting pregnant? If that were the case why would I bother with the Clomid and the repeated ultra sounds and wondering if that pain is ovulation or another cyst. Why would I continue to blog and read other blogs and chart and ration out my vacation time in order to save it for maternity leave?

Last night we were discussing our yearly trip to watch the NASCAR race in Michigan in August. I told him I could simply stop taking the Metformin that week and enjoy a few drinks while we were there, since, that is basically the point. Camp out with friends and get hammered, you know, and watch some cars go around the track. He gave me a funny look and then said "Well, hopefully it won't take that long". It never occurred to me that I might actually be pregnant by August. It.never.crossed.my.mind.

Have I become numb from reading blogs and message boards? I have experienced things through other people so I don't need to do it myself? I guess it is possible but this doesn't feel right to me either.

Is it the very sick but unfortunately still very real sense of satisfaction I get from watching T concede that I was right all along and this wasn't going to be just a walk in the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon? Maybe. I have this "I told you so" in the back of my mind after two full years of trying to convince him time was NOT on our side and we really should get the baby ball rolling. I would never express this out loud but I guess I feel a sense of justification for all of my nagging.

I'm not sure. All I know is that with each and every cycle that comes to an end I expect to cry and feel discouraged or feel like a failure but I don't.

Some women feel anger at their bodies for not working properly. Others may feel anger or hatred towards just certain parts of their bodies. They feel they have failed as women, as wives, and mostly as mothers for not being able to do what "normal" women can do. I don't feel this sense of failure. I do hate my body, in the "what have you done for me lately" kind of way. Yes, I am losing weight but I have also been sick for the last three weeks and my cycles are as unpredictable now as they were when I was in high school before I started the pill. I can blame the Endo which is easy but it doesn't feel concrete enough to give any satisfaction. Endo has given me so many problems that have nothing to do with having a baby.

T was almost relieved to get the low count from his SA since it wasn't just me anymore. We could share the responsibility. I don't feel that way at all. To me it is just one more problem to overcome.

We have talked before about the idea of a surrogate or donor sperm. Basically T's feelings are the child should either be biologically related to both of us or neither of us. He doesn't want a half-biological child. We are open to adoption but he really wants a bio child and I think making that switch is going to be a HUGE deal for him. I am already there. I'm ready to sign on the dotted line, he isn't. So, I am going through the motions like a robot, not allowing myself to feel it when the disappointments come.

I don't know if this is healthy or not. Am I in denial or that ever elusive ZEN state that everyone searches for? I'm leaning more towards the former. I think I'm just going to sit back and let T drive this ship wherever he is comfortable and eventually I think we will end up right where I have wanted to be all along. I can't say that I will enjoy the ride, I'm sure I won't. For now, I'm just looking out the window and observing the scenery. If I happen to come across something that elicits an emotional response then I'll deal with it then...I guess.

You Be The Judge

Is it a "Drive-by" if it regards how you care for yourself?  Last night while I was out shoveling the driveway with T:

 

Blue: You know that post-nasal drip/sore throat thing I've had since Friday?

T: Yeah.

Blue: It has now become a head cold.

T: Oh Yeah?

Blue: The second one in two weeks!

T: If you have a head cold you should have a hat on!

 

At which point he declared me "finished" helping and sent me inside to do the dishes.

Good Stuff !

I have decided to make a list of good things that have happened to me lately.

• We had a shower for my SIL this weekend and she looks just fabulous!  I didn't feel a slightest pang of envy the entire time and actually enjoyed myself!
• I bought tickets to see Velvet Revolver when they come to Detroit in April!  Whoo Hoo!  I have the hotel reservations and all that is left to do now is book the dog sitter. Yeah Baby, Yeah!
• As of today we have new health insurance.  One that lets me use my GYN as my primary care provider!  They also will pay for 1/2 of any fertility related treatments where as our old insurance would cover diagnosis but no treatment.
• My natural nails have grown long enough that I could paint them with a French manicure and look all "OOO La-La" if I wanted to, which I don't, but I could if I wanted to.
• My body is producing LOADS of egg-white mucus, unfortunately it is coming from my nose.  Now if I can just get it to migrate South a bit... (NOTE: Swallowing it doesn't work, it only gives you a very sore throat... for a week... or more)
• I went to GNC at lunch and got T a men's multi-vitamin plus herbal supplement (including green tea and L-Arginine)which should help boost that sperm count up into the "normal" range.  He HATES taking pills so for him to agree to this, and to bargain that he would quit drinking as long as he didn't have to give up going to the gym means he is quite serious about this baby-making venture.  I had doubted that up until now. (small sigh of relief)
• I am taking tonight "off". By this I mean that I will not go to the gym but instead focus on things at home.  I will do laundry, change the bed, organize my audiobooks into playlists for my iPod, do the dishes and deposit the rebate checks we just received from Dell.  I will be busy, but at least I will have a full 4-1/2 hours in which to do these things instead of the 2-1/2 I would have if I went to the gym.
• Total weight lost since October = 28 pounds!
• The one co-worker that I just hate, I mean cannot stand to be in the same room with the guy kind of hate, will be out of the office for 6-8 months.  Unfortunately it is because he is undergoing cancer treatments, which I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy (and this guy fits that description) but we are looking at the positives here and for me, not having him in the office is a positive. If they find his cancer is occupation related then maybe he'll just find a job elsewhere.  That would be a win-win!
• I had an excellent workout last night while listening to Guns-N-Roses, Velvet Revolver, Bon Jovi, Limp Bizkit, Kid Rock, Alanis Morrissette, Pantera and even a little Slayer.  Motivational music to get the heart pumpin'!
• T bought me the most GINORMOUS strawberries I have ever seen and they are SO GOOD!  I had some on my spelt flakes this morning (along with some flax seeds and soy milk). Yummmm.

New Neighbors in Endo/MF Land!

So we got the results of the SA back today. Um, not sure what to think.
Here is what I have:
*Note all "normal" levels are according the specific lab that ran the test.

Volume 5.5, "normal" is 1.5-5.0 ML (Is it good to have extra fluid?)
Sperm Count 45.7, "normal" is 60-200 Mil/ML (This is low, possibly due to his flu?)
pH 8.2,"normal" is 7.0-8.3 (Within range but very high apparently.)
Viscosity Normal
Liquefaction Normal

Motility%
Progressive 75%, "normal" is 60-100%
Non-Progressive 5%
Non-Motile 20%

Morphology
Normal 88%
Head Defects 4%
Neck or midpiece defects 1%
Tail Defects 5%
Cytoplasmic droplets 2% (I should call the Ghostbusters if this goes up, no?)

So, we know he had the flu two weeks before this test. We can and will repeat it but when? Do we do it right away or wait three months? I am worried that over the summer while he is working in a hot machine shop (often 120F) he will just boil the little guys away.
I may be able to get him to take a multi-vitamin but I doubt I'll get him to quit drinking. He has already cut way back from what he used to drink so I don't think that is really an issue...yet.
My jaw literally dropped when he told me he discussed the test with his buddies at work. I wonder if he will tell them the results? I don't know whether I am supposed to keep it quiet or not, we'll talk tonight.
I guess I'm not overly concerned because I know he was sick before his test. We'll have to wait and see the results of the next one before we can confirm anything I think. So the debate is...Do I want him to have male factor fertility issues so that the load of responsibility does not rest solely on my shoulders or do I hope he comes back with a stellar report next time so there is one less thing to worry about? I'm leaning towards the stellar report. I have known for 12 years that my insides were fucked up. I'm used to that, I can deal with that. If we end up with a male factor on top of my pile of crap people call a body, then it is just one more setback we don't need. I may be in a tad bit of denial but with all the other numbers in normal range I think we can increase the count, don't you?
SO, Monday I will talk to the nurse and get the slip for another SA and we will decide the best time to go in for the repeat test. (The instructions that came on my slip said to repeat the test after a 3 day abstinence even though this one was after a 4 day abstinence. Does anyone in the medical profession actually read anything anymore?)

Not Your Average Saturday Morning

Friday was the day T was going in for his SA. He had the lab slip and left work early to get to the lab before they closed. He arrived at the lab at 3pm. He signed in and waited for them to call him back. They didn't call him back until 3:40 at which time they told him they don't actually do collections at their facility and they would give him a cup to take home. He needed to take his sample downtown sometime between 9am and 1pm on Saturday morning. (Good thing he didn't have to work this weekend.)He said the lady behind the counter must have been at least 8 months pregnant and handed him a post-vasectomy cup instead of a fertility testing cup. She took it back and couldn't find the regular cup so gave him one used for drug testing. She also gave him a sheet of instructions...all in Spanish. He had to wait again while she hunted down the instructions in English. So, while I had spent all week promising much lovin' on Friday night after his test, we again went to bed with no nookie. T was furious that we weren't given all this information when we were given the original lab slip.
Saturday morning we woke bright and early. I called the lab downtown to find out exactly where T needed to go since time would be an issue and neither of us had been to the lab next to the hospital before. It is a good thing I called. The woman who answered the phone said she was the only one on duty at her particular lab location and wouldn't be able to process the sample in time. She said to take it to the Clinical Pathology department in the hospital itself. She gave me instructions on how to find it which I wrote down on the instruction sheet so T could take it with him. I took the cup to T so that he could warm it up to body temperature while I took the dog out, fed her and started his car to warm it up. I had been enlisted to "help" with the "collection" of the "sample". I watched the clock carefully so that we could document the exact time the sample was collected. (8:59am for those who are wondering.) I held the cup under my arm while T got dressed and got ready to head downtown. He said they should make the cups bigger since he had a hard time aiming, then again he said he expected the sample to be a bit more voluminous too. We were standing in the kitchen, me with the cup under my arm while I filled out the paperwork and he asked if I wanted to go with him. I looked at the clock, knowing I had a massage appointment in less than an hour, I wasn't "dressed", and hadn't showered but realizing he was asking for moral support so I agreed to go. I threw my shoes on and we left. The cup was still under my arm and I wasn't wearing a bra or underwear.
We walked in and through the lobby as instructed then started the search for Clinical Pathology. T assured me he never would have found it without me. I guess I can see that since I was used to the hospital from my monthly ultrasounds and he has only been there once. We stood at the desk for a while when a lab tech wandered by and asked if we had been helped. She looked at the paperwork, realized why we were there and told the woman sitting in the chair that she would have to wait while she processed ours first. (T said later that the woman in the chair was not on the list of people he intended to fuck that day but low and behold, he had done it anyway. Sorry Ma'am! I hope you would understand if you actually knew what was going on.)
The hospital has his swimmers. We will wait to hear the results.
Why couldn't we just be normal? He saw me taking my Metformin at dinner Saturday night and said "Sorry you have to take pills" and I said "Sorry you had to come in a cup". I think we are both just sorry we are not normal.

I am a BAD date.

My husband and I never really dated. We are a boring couple. We hung out a lot, mostly in the breezeway of my parent's house watching TGIF and 20/20. We are truly a couple of homebodies content to veg away on the couch together. Ahhh. Bliss. I don't think either of us would do well dating. Dinner and a movie, obligatory sex and goodnight kisses? No thanks.

Yesterday being Valentine's Day we made a big to-do about things. He sent roses to my work along with not one but TWO balloons and the softest teddy bear ever invented strapped to the vase. Awwww. I now have a companion for the Santa Bear he gave me in 8th grade. I named the Santa bear Patrick and slept with it every single night from the day he gave it to me until the day we moved in together and I could actually curl up with the real thing. Poor Patrick soaked up so many, many tears. I'll have to come up with a name for the new bear.

I wrapped his present which I had been hiding in my office on my lunch hour. (season tickets for arena football) I accepted my Wife of the Year award from all the men I work with and listened to them moan and groan about how T was making them look bad because none of them sent flowers to their wives, etc. Then they realized that maybe T had a point with the flower thing, after all he gets to watch NASCAR and drink beer and play his playstation all he wants without any griping from me and none of them get to do those things. HA! In an emotional bank account, one must make DEPOSITS before expecting withdrawals!.

When I showed up last night I had to take three trips to unload the car. One for the flowers/balloon/bear combo, one for my purse and T's gift and one for the package from Walgreen's which contained my thyroid, estradiol and Prochieve. Not exactly the grand entrance I was hoping for. The poor dog is terrified of balloons and thought the big two headed monster was trying to eat her. She was afraid to go anywhere near the flowers/balloon/bear even though her nose told her there was definitely something to investigate.

I saw a card on the table and a bright shiny thing which at first I thought might be a jewelry box but quickly identified as a nameplate for a desk. The desk that T is getting me for Christmas...as soon as we go pick it out. He told me that he loved me enough last month what with getting the iPod for my birthday and then having to buy the new Dell since the iPod wouldn't work on the old computer...so he wasn't going to get me anything for Valentine's Day (the flowers/balloons/bear don't count). He didn't buy me anything, he made it. He is a machinist by trade, he engraved my name in this triangular piece of aluminum and polished it to a mirrored finish. It is beautiful! He's so sweet.

Then we actually went out to dinner... without reservations...on Valentine's Day. *During dinner our conversation drifted toward my friend S who is set to move to Alaska in a couple short weeks. I started to cry and he totally froze. He wasn't expecting this response and didn't really know what to do. He reached across the table and said "Don't cry, this is supposed to be a happy occasion!". I wiped my eyes and blinked back the tears, swallowed hard to push the sob back down before it escaped my quivering lips and we both looked around at the other tables to see if anyone had noticed my very short moment of almost-complete-break-down. I don't think they did. "Let's change the subject!" he said and we did. I don't remember to what, just not her leaving. *SOB!!!*

We returned home our bellies full, and decided to watch TV, our norm. Told you we were boring. T promptly fell asleep on the couch and I looked through my new issue of Interweave Knits with the dog on my lap and then went to bed myself.

All in all it was a good Valentine's Day, but I guess I can see why he doesn't take me out in public more often.


*Has anyone had a friend move a REALLY long way away and were you able to keep up the relationship? I already know that Les Miserables is coming this spring and I would normally go with S but she'll be gone by then. She is/was my "Theater Friend". I may end up going with my MIL! Damn this sucks, my heart is breaking even though I have a perfectly good Valentine.

Brownie with the Light Gray Paws

We are working on the house...still...always.  T was painting the basement floor last week.  Not the entire floor, just one end so that he can install the cabinets we bought and get started making a countertop for it to serve as his work bench.  Maggie had spent most of the evening up in the office with me.  At one point T called me down to the basement to discuss the exact placement of the cabinets and it was during this discussion that we noticed some paw prints across the newly painted floor.  It is quick drying paint.  She must have made her venture into the far corner about half hour after he finished.  Her paws lifted the paint right off the floor in the very precise shape of her feet.  She was standing there looking at us looking at the floor.  We called her over, lifted her paws and caught her, well,  red handed so to speak. 

The next morning T greeted Maggie as Paint Walker.  I thought it had a very "Spirit Name" sound to it, but he has now taken to calling her Gray Paw. Can you really be mad at this face?

 

Ba-Dum-Bum-Tsch

We were working on our taxes the other night, me sitting at the computer and T standing behind me looking over my shoulder at the screen. TurboTax asked us if we qualified as over age 65 or blind.
T: Well, I've got one eye that is legally blind.
Me: My left eye is bad but not blind.
T: My left eye is the bad one too. I wonder if together we count?
Me: Our poor kids. We each have a bad eye, they don't stand a chance.
T: What do you mean?
Me: Well, we each have one so they might have two.
T: I don't want our kids to have two left eyes.
Me:

The Day My Life Began

I spent all of high school waiting to be out of high school so that I could start my life. I spent all of college waiting to be out of college so that I would move in with T and start my life. I spent the first year and a half living with T waiting for him to propose so that I could start my life. Do you see a pattern?

Let's back up just a smidge. My sophomore year in college my friends and I took a trip down to Florida for spring break. It wasn't Daytona or Ft. Lauderdale or anywhere near that exotic. No, one of our friends had a "Summer House" down there. Her parents said we could stay there for the week as long as we respected the neighborhood (a gated community...mucho money, etc.).

While in Florida we made a trip to the local mall. I went into the jewelry store to look at the rings. I love rings. I think I inherited it from my mother. Sapphires (hello, they are blue) are my favorite. I saw a ring. It was an oval sapphire with a trilateral cut diamond on each side with a gold band. It was breathtaking and it was ON SALE ! It was HALF OFF ! Oh my god that is my engagement ring! Bells went off in my head, my heart started thumping louder and faster and my friends all tried to convince me NOT to buy the ring. It was a mistake, it would never work out the way I had planned, etc. I bought the ring. Spent the rest of my vacation money on it and was broke the rest of the week but I had my ring!

When we got home I gave it to T and explained that this was what I wanted to be my engagement ring and I wanted him to give it back to me when he was ready. The ball was in his court. He stalled a while. Like two more years of college and then a year and a half of living together he stalled. He wasn't READY yet. The waiting just about killed me. I saw it as rejection. I thought he saw potential in me but I hadn't met whatever criteria he had in mind yet so he couldn't propose until I got there. It broke my heart every birthday, every Valentine's Day, every Christmas he didn't propose. I wanted so badly to know that he was as devoted to me as I was to him. I cried buckets for over 3 years.

I knew where the ring was. It was in a box of his stuff in our bedroom closet. When he would leave for work in the morning I would sneak in there and carefully pull it out, remembering exactly how it had been lying in the box. I would just stare at the ring, pull it out and put it on my finger. Hold my hand up to the light to see the deep blue sapphire and the sparkle of the diamonds. Then I would put it all back and cry for what I wanted and didn't have. I know this may not be true for everyone out there and I may be setting myself up with this statement but FOR ME, my longing for a child is NOTHING compared to wanting T to propose. I spent years thinking that I wasn't good enough, there must be something wrong with me, any day now he would decide this wasn't what he wanted and leave. It was heartbreaking every.day.for.three.years.

On Valentine's Day 1999 my friend S came to stay the weekend with us. I wrote in my journal that day about how much I loved T and how much I wanted to spend my life with him and what was he waiting for and why didn't he love me enough to want to marry me, etc. I cried alone in the bathroom so no one would see me.

S stayed for dinner and left around 7pm. Around 7:30 T said he had left my Valentine's card in the car and went down to get it. Then he went into the bedroom (I assumed to sign it, he likes to do things last minute) and came back out and sat next to me on the couch. He handed me the card. The front read:

We are too close not to have been lovers in another time and another place, for when I saw your face and heard your voice,I felt my life begin all over again.

I read the card, felt all warm and fuzzy and at the same time my heart was breaking because I knew yet again, he didn't ask. I thanked him for the card and kissed him, and then he got down on one knee in front of me. My eyes bugged out, I started to hyperventilate. I realized that this quick, out of control breathing would throw him off and I wasn't about to stop him now. Plus, I wanted to be able to hear the question! I held my breath. I looked at my hand and realized that I had been wearing my birthstone ring on my left hand. I whipped it off and put it on the coffee table, freeing up the ring finger which was about to get the ring...my engagement ring.

I was right in thinking that the breathing would throw him. Apparently when I STOPPED BREATHING he completely lost his train of thought. He said he had a whole speech worked out and the look on my face which he had never seen before and the fact that I WASN'T BREATHING made him stumble for words. He never told me what he had planned to say.

He said "I love you, a lot, and I want you to be mine, forever." He handed me the ring because he didn't know which finger it was supposed to go on. I got down on my knees too and hugged him and just kept saying "Thank you, thank you, thank you" and eventually I said "yes".

That was a very busy Valentine's Day. Our friends H and L got married on a cruise that very day and T's brother and his fiance broke their engagement that day. (We waited quite a while to tell him our good news.) My boss had an emergency appendectomy so the next morning when we all gathered for the monthly sales meeting I shared by good news but then he STOLE MY THUNDER since everyone was worried about him and how he was doing. I will never let him live that down, and he knows it.

That moment, when T proposed, is when my life began. We were married a full year and nine months later but waiting for the wedding was a cake walk compared to waiting for the proposal. In 2001 we celebrated Valentine's Day on our honeymoon in Ocho Rios, Jamaica. I tell you what, that is the way to go! There were something like 8 weddings at our resort that day, but we were already married and having the time of our lives. Walking around in a swimming suite with a drink in your hand 24/7 it is hard to have a bad time.

So, my life began 5 years ago and I wouldn't go back for anything. I know that wanting a baby could turn into the same sort of desperate depressive state that I was in back when I was waiting for the proposal, but I have T and that is what matters to me. Nothing matters without him. Without him I don't want the kids. So, I am glad to say that I actually am happy with my life now. I don't think I have ever said that before. We will have children someday, bio or adopted, it doesn't matter to me one bit. The important thing is that we are together and love each other completely and I finally have the confidence in his love for me that I questioned for so long.

It kind of feels like a birthday.

Ugh.

I think I have the plague.

 

I have gained 1/2 a pound since Monday, I think it is all the mucus in my head.  Seriously, If I could have my sinuses drained and get back on the scale I think I would see a big difference.

 

I called my GYN yesterday to see what my u/s from Tuesday would dictate.  100mg Clomid or Take-the-Month-Off...they hadn't gotten the results yet but would call me when they did.  I explained that it was CD 5 and if I was going to go the 100mg Clomid route I needed to know ASAP so the Rx could be called in and I could pick it up and actually take the drugs!  I haven't heard back.

 

I think I will be going home early today.  I have tried to only inhale so as to not spread my germs, but it isn't working very well.  At one point there was so much pressure in the front of my face that when I sneezed my sinuses actually shot out of my skin, hung suspended in the air for a few minutes and then sucked right back to their original positions, just like in the cartoons when the heart pounds out of their chests.  It looks funny until it happens to you.

 

My drive home last night was actually dangerous since I kept having that squinchy-faced-teary-eyed-I-think-I'm-going-to-sneeze thing.  I couldn't see the road.  I had to squint and I never did end up sneezing. 

 

I am envisioning a full day on the couch watching all the Christmas and Birthday DVDs I haven't watched yet.  Let's see I have the Star Wars Trilogy, the Back to the Future Trilogy, the 40th Anniversary Edition of Mary Poppins and Bon Jovi's This Left Feels Right Live.  Not a bad day, right?

He told me so, why didn't I listen?

Warning: If you have just sucked down a Green Tea with Honey flavored zinc lozenge trying to ward off the evil eye of the flu that threatens to ruin the rest of your week, do NOT follow it up with a cherry cough syrup (purchased for better CM) chaser. 

BLEHCK!

 

I don't think it will work anyway.  T had the flu last week.  Aches, chills, fever (I know, right before he goes in for his first SA!), stuffy head, sore throat, sinus headache, everything hurts kind of flu.  He kept telling me I would get sick, that his particular flu had a long gestation (is there a better word for that? Fermentation? Percolation?)  period before it actually made you sick.  It was inevitable he said because our receptionist at work had it the same time he did.  I was surrounded by germs.  I kept holding out hope that I would somehow, miraculously avoid it.  You know, because I seem to just miraculously avoid trouble in all other aspects of my life.

 

My throat was sort of scratchy on Monday, I started taking zinc lozenges to fend it off before it could take root.  Tuesday I felt better, no problem.  Yesterday awoke in the middle of the night with a sore throat, way deep down by my collar bone.  I actually fell back to sleep and dreamed that I found 5 blisters in my throat.  (I once had a blister so big that I just opened my mouth and looked in the rearview mirror of my car and I could see it without the aid of a flashlight or tongue depressor!) I took more zinc.  By 8:30am the post-nasal drip had started.  I have sneezed a few times and actually had to blow my nose after, these certainly weren't just office dust sneezes.  It doesn't look good.

 

I thought for sure I would be hearing a big I TOLD YOU SO when I got home, but instead he apologized for getting me sick and washed the blankets and pillows from the couch so they are ready for me when I need them.

A Blue by any other name...

Oh! I have a question! Now, I have to work out an answer…

Q: Where did the name [of your blog] come from?

A: I was trying to come up with a name for my blog and there were so many creative titles out there already I wanted something really different. I was trying to express the most about who I was while still maintaining a sense of anonymity (more for my husband's comfort level than mine).

So, the first thing people notice about me is that my favorite color is blue, mostly navy. My car is blue, my eyes are blue, if there are color choices for anything (board game pieces, fondue forks, yarn for my knitting, the colors you see on the blog itself) I choose blue every time. I write with blue pens. My living room couch is blue. My taper candle in my wedding was blue (T’s was black and those were used the light the unity candle which was custom ordered white wax with real flowers through out. It was a true representation of our individualities coming together). So that is the Navy Blue part. When you think of me, think Navy Blue which should be easy since you all call me Blue anyway. :0)

I am also known as a lover of all things pachyderm. I love elephants. Always have. I believe this is a direct genetic link to my maternal aunt who also has an elephant …thing. Her house is filled with statuettes, books, posters and tapes of nature shows about elephants. I am to inherit her elephant collection upon her death. I too have loads and loads of elephants in my house, two huge framed posters, candle holders with elephants, elephant coasters, coffee mugs, etc. (I received a pair of ivory earrings for Christmas once, I almost died. Why would you give an elephant lover something made of ivory, for which an elephant was probably brutally butchered to obtain? Think people, think!) I wear a gold elephant necklace around my neck. I never take it off. It is like my logo or something. I have worn it for 5 years now.

The trunk part is special. If you see an elephant with its trunk raised it is a symbol of good luck. The elephant on my necklace has its trunk raised. I don’t go around thinking that it is a good luck charm by any means, but it sure couldn’t hurt right? Trunks can also be something to pack in …baggage as the case may be. I have lots of that too.

So, Navy Blue Elephant Trunks is me and the things that I love with the most luck I can pack in there in such a short descriptive phrase.

Probably more than you wanted, huh?