The Vain Drain

So I went last week Tuesday to donate blood.  I have done this countless times as evidenced by the many scars on my inner right elbow.  I wear them as a badge of pride.  I do my part.  I do what I can to help those in need in my community.  I do it because I know so many others do not.  I do it because I know some want to but cannot.  I do it because I am not afraid of needles or any sort of medical situation and I know that prevents some from giving when otherwise they would.

OK, off the soapbox. 

So I made it through the screening just fine. Though it is more difficult when I have to explain each time that I do have two chronic diseases (Endo and Hashimoto's) for which I see a doctor on a regular basis and no, it will not effect my ability to donate.  They ask me this every time and every time I have to explain that they ask me all this every time and it is fine I have been doing this for years, it is not a problem.  Just a hassle in getting through the paperwork.  The screeners are just doing their jobs, I know, but you would think they could put something in my permanent record so we don't have to hash it out each time. ANYWAY...

I hopped up on the table telling them the right arm is my good arm which is quickly confirmed by the phlebotomist when she saw all of my scars and how good the veins stick out.  She confirmed my name, turned me brown/orange with the betadine and secured the tourniquet.  I squeezed twice on the little stress ball and held while she poked the needle into my arm.

"Wow," I thought to myself, "This one hurt more than normal".

She paused, backed up a bit still holding the needle and my arm and said to me, rather harshly in my opinion, "You have a hematoma!" As if it were MY fault.

I turned my head to look at my arm and saw that there is very little blood in the tube connected to the needle but that my arm had swollen out to double its normal size.  This happened instantly.  I cannot express quickly enough in words how fast this happened because by the time you read the sentence to describe it, it would have happened five times already.  It was FAST!

She jiggled the needle a bit and I noticed that the site of the needle was no longer painful but that I felt pain going down my forearm across the top of my hand and down my ring finger. 

"Oh, that must just be because that is the finger they poked to check my iron" I thought.

"Does it hurt?" she asked me.

"No, but my hand is going numb" I said.

"Hmm" she replied, with that puzzled look on her face again.

"Well, I am going to have to remove it." she said, apologetically, as if I wanted this all to continue. "That is our normal procedure when these things happen."

She took the needle out and I held my arm straight up in the air applying pressure with the other hand.  My right hand still throbbed and my whole arm became sore.

We decided to try again with the other arm, even though the right arm has always been the good arm.  The only vein available on the left was a side vein. 

"These are OK," she said "but they don't always hold up".  I've had the side veins used before so I told her to go ahead and try anyway.

I had to wait something like 20 minutes while they redid the paperwork because they could not use the original tubes and collection bag because they had been contaminated now, you know, with my own blood.  Don't want to go mixing blood from the right and left arms now do we?

She got the left arm going and went about helping the others donating around me.  Then she came back and frowned at my bag.  I was going too slow. 

"Squeeze gently but more often" she said of the little rubber ball.  I did.  She continued to frown. 

We spent another 20 minutes adjusting things, her pulling down on my arm muscle to give the needle just the right angle.  She released the tape holding the needle and put it back.  She pulled the tourniquet tighter, made it looser.  I was too slow.  I have NEVER been accused of being a slow bleeder.  I usually get remarks from all the neighboring phlebotomists about how FAST I fill the bag!  I am a good bleeder!

They finally had to stop it for fear that I might start to clot.  They only had 1/2 a pint.  I asked if they could use what they had and she said she didn't think so.  BUT, I still had to wait the entire 56 days before I could give again because I had lost so much blood.  *shaking my head* 

I left with the standard Band-Aid on my left arm and a pressure bandage on the right.  My right arm hurt from my shoulder down to my fingertips.  I couldn't move that arm for two days.  Over the weekend it was still bothering me.  Just yesterday the bruising appeared.  It must have been DEEP.  I now have bruising in various colors of yellow, green, purple and brown in a circle with a 3 inch diameter!

So, I was drained in vain, with nothing to gain, except my own pain...I thought I would explain. (OK, I'm done,sorry.)

Space Case

Has everyone heard about Mars?  Supposedly, it is visible to the naked eye and appearing this week for the only time in several centuries and will not be seen again by anyone alive today.  The only reason I know about this stellar performance is that I keep getting emails urging me to run outside and look at the sky for fear of missing this huge event. *shrug*  I am just not turned on by such things (though I do love a good full moon).  To each his own though I guess.

 

On August 18 (CD31) I noticed a bit of pink tinting on the TP before leaving work. (With all the construction in town and not knowing when/if I will ever get home from day to day I have taken to going potty before leaving the office.)  "Shit", I thought.  Not only did this mean that my "break" cycle was over but that it had not been the "miracle cycle that worked" and AF would be packing her bags and accompanying us to the NASCAR race.  (This is just what I wanted, the weekend spent running from my tent to the ladies room down the road carrying my handy little travel case with liners and tampons. No thanks.) I was bummed and told T and he was bummed and we hugged and bed farewell to our hopes that our fun in Seattle would have created something to last a lifetime.  Oh, yeah, and did I mention I was simply not ready at that point for another cycle to start?  I mean, the siding on the house wasn't even started yet, much less finished (ahem, still isn't finished but that is another story) and I wasn't sure how we would go about paying for an IUI this month what with our property taxes due and GEEZ, I would have to get to the pharmacy to get the Letrozole and Met and ...and...and... It was just really bad timing.

 

Then, it went away.  There was nothing more but that bit of tint on the TP.  The undies were clear and there wasn't even the faintest hint of cramping.

 

I spent the weekend waiting for it.  I went absolutely nowhere without my pocket case which holds not one but four tampons (small with no applicator, like ob but different brand).  I was just sure the blood flow would start when I was hell and gone from the tent and I would be stuck bleeding out in a port-a-potty while T had to go back to the tent to fetch my things. (Note: He would never do such a thing.  He would offer to walk behind me so that no one saw the blood that would be sure to soak through my pants but he would not be a gopher for feminine products.)  All weekend long I would see "spotting" on the TP but never in the panties and my tampons were either in my pocket or the dry pocket of the soft sided cooler we carried with us everywhere.

 

On Monday morning (CD35) as we were packing up our soggy camp to head back to the real world I ran to the bathroom one last time before we headed out on our journey home.  There was fresh bright red blood on the TP.  I ran back to the bus to fetch my tampons (the one time I didn't have them with me, go figure) and intended to run back to the ladies room but T saw me and stopped me to ask what was going on.  "Shit started", I said, and headed off back to the ladies'. (I really need to work on a more empathic delivery method for this type of news. My poor husband.) When I came out he was standing by the door waiting for me.  He hugged me and told me he was sorry and that he loved me.  I hugged him back but was a bit surprised by the weight of his reaction. He was still thinking I would be pregnant.   I guess that happens when I can feel my body going through the stages and he can only follow my lead by the signs that I give him.  He was really holding out hope.  I dreaded the long bus ride home since my "seat" on the bus was actually a pillow on top of our cooler. (It is a NASCAR thing, don't worry about it.)

 

When we got home I ran to the bathroom to check to see how much I bled through.  Nothing.  No blood.  The tampon was all but dry.  What the Fuck?!?!?!?!?!

 

These mind games have been fucking with me. Here we go, no, wait, not yet, OK, Now! Wait, nope, try again later, test...negative, *tapping fingers*, more color on the TP, Ok, here we go, wait, nope, not yet... I felt like the last shuttle launch.  How many times can you reschedule a launch before you just pull the plug? This is getting ridiculous!  I tested again on Saturday (CD40) and it was still negative. Does it take a rocket scientist to get a fucking period these days? 

 

Don't get me wrong.  I have been kind of glad for the extended period of time (pun intended) for exactly the reasons I presented earlier, but at the same time I feel like I am walking around waiting for the axe to fall.  I hate to even mention it to T anymore since his hopes rise and fall with the tide in my jeans (the pull of the moon and all that).

 

Last night, we had The DISH Network installed and today I cancelled our cable.  (Bastards)  Anyway, in going over the new channels we discovered we now get The NASA Channel.  You know, for all your space viewing pleasure!  Is it any wonder that, today CD43, I started to bleed?  Not just on the TP, not just spotting in the delicates, but bleeding.  I think AF snuck up on me for the first time...ever.  I think tomorrow will officially be CD1 and I shall call the Fertility Gods to schedule lift off of IUI Flight #2.  I ordered my drug refills and will pick them up tomorrow whether the bleeding continues or not.  I would wait until tomorrow to mention it to T for fear of crushing him with wrong information...again...except that the minute he sees me wear those-certain-jammies to bed tonight he will know the jig is up.  That is our little signal that I am not, um, open for business shall we say? Yeah. So that will be pretty obvious.

 

So, now I am actually kind of excited to get the show on the road.  I felt what might possibly turn into cramps start twinging away down there so I headed them off at the pass with 800mg ibuprofen.  I am not bleeding heavy or light, just a nice first day sort of medium.

 

I am ready...keeping fingers crossed that the control tower gives me the go ahead.

 

Kennedy...request permission for take off...

FRED is a Jackass

CD42 and counting with only one line to show for my efforts.

TGI'm outta here!

4:59pm on Friday afternoon. 

Come on baby, flip that last digit. 

 

I am on my way to the $1 store then home to finish unpacking from last weekend (I am horrible at unpacking, I live out of the suitcase until everything is gone) and then make myself a huge pitcher of Sangria to chill overnight and to be enjoyed tomorrow post-wedding/during Bristol night race.

 

See?  I can kick it with the best of them!

New...Again and The Big Party Weekend!

Well I haven't had time to teach myself HTML in order to fix the funky gap in the blog thing so I have once again changed the template on my blog.  It is simple and user friendly I think.  Does anyone actually look at my site anymore or am I bloglined?  I do love bloglines for its ease of use but I do miss the personalization from visiting the sites themselves.

 

Big plans for the weekend?

Why, Yes! Thanks for asking!

 

T's uncle is getting married on Saturday.  We just learned about it at the beginning of the week.  I think he and his fiance went to the Sturgis bike rally and came back engaged.  Low and behold they called the family and the preacher and said "Show up at our place at 2 on Saturday, wear your jeans and we'll go have dinner after at the Old Country Buffet."  I must say, I can't wait.  I am more psyched about this wedding than the most formal event you've ever heard of.  I really like Uncle D and L is such a sweetheart. It should be a good time and we should still make it back home in time to watch the Bristol race on TV (it is a Saturday night race this week).

 

On Sunday I (at least, not sure if T will come or not) will be attending my nephew's 3rd birthday party.  Again, we just learned about this get-together at the beginning of this week. (Nothing like planning ahead, I tell ya what!) 

 

So, my original plan for this weekend (early morning meeting with FRED, go to the gym, rent a power washer to strip old paint off of foundation of house, watch Bristol race, sleep, go to gym, start repainting foundation of house) will have to be put on hold.

Big Bowl O' Nuts

In a nutshell...

 

• Today is CD38.  I have seen both old and new blood on the tp but nothing in the undies so I can't really count it as true spotting.  I asked my good buddy FRED for his opinion on Tuesday and he was not so much with the positiveness.  T wants me ask FRED again on Saturday to see if he mightn't have changed his mind. 
• The house is still not finished.  Everyday when we get home we find some new thing they did wrong, or something the sales guy didn't tell the workmen to do, or they left nails in the driveway which is the one thing T requested they be SURE not to do.  Every.day.  They have to do all the high peeks today.  They removed our old screen door weeks ago but didn't have the new one to install. WTF? The replacement screen door which has been missing for over two weeks now has been located in a warehouse about an hour away. T asked if they would like to go get it or should he drive his firebird over there, strap it to the roof and bring it back for them.  I was told it would be on my house either today or tomorrow.  I am not holding my breath.  Oh, yeah, and the best part is, they miscalculated when they ordered our siding and didn't get enough, so they have to order more.  This is a special order since we are very strange people (complete freaks, we) who wanted double 5" instead of double 4" siding so it will take over a week to get the new siding in.  They will finish the house and then go to another job, when our siding comes in they will come back to do the garage.  So, for a while, we will have a nice beautiful dusty blue house with white trim and a nasty faded gold garage.  T does not know this part yet, I just learned about it this morning.  If you have never seen someone's head explode before, come on over to my place tonight because I think it will happen about 7:30 or so.  I'll make popcorn and provide festival seating, it might be fun.
• I am gaining weight.  Not so odd after the all out drink/food fest that is NASCAR weekend; but the point is, I am supposed to be going the other way.  I shall return to the gym tonight after work and have started a food journal...again...for like the bazillionth time.  As much as I missed drinking, I am almost looking forward to AF showing up so that I can quit again (and restart the Metformin).  It is probably not good that 3 out of 5 nights I have beer for dinner.  No, not WITH dinner, but FOR dinner.  Yeah, probably not so good.  I shall rededicate myself to fruits, vegetables and green tea!!! Hazzah!
• Our receptionist is wearing a new perfume which smells exactly like pipe tobacco.  While it reminds me of my father in my early childhood (when he still smoked a pipe) I can't say that it is necessarily a GOOD smell.


I've run out of time.  I was going to say "here is my life in a nutshell" but I feel more like all the shells laying on the floor of a steakhouse at the moment.  Could someone sweep me up please?

Off to the Races!

The car is half packed, we will add the cooler, our clothes and my bike at the last minute.  We will leave around 6pm to make the LONG trek (long due to construction) up to Greenville where we will unload our stuff onto the bus and settle in for the trip down to Michigan International Speedway.  Once there, the men will unload the bus while the women set up camp.  (I need to set up our new tent...by myself...in the dark.  Wish me luck.)  We will spend the next four days surrounded by drunk red-necks who spontaneously shout out "Go JUNIOR! Whoo Hoo!" and other similar things.  It is always a good time.  We have friends coming down just on Sunday to watch the race with us.  We however, will stay over Sunday night and come home on Monday when the traffic has cleared out of our way.

 

We are hoping that in that time there will be more siding applied to our house.  The windows have been wrapped and there are a few corner pieces up so we can see the exact color it will be once it is all finished.  It looks good for something that is only 5% finished.

 

We have been running around like chickens with our heads cut off since returning from Seattle so this will be a nice long weekend with no responsibilities beyond Don't-Fall-Off-The-Roof-of-the-Bus.  *Sigh*

Pause Please

OK, I knew this month would be hectic and crazy with lots to do in very little time and would end up spending the rest of the little money we actually have but this is absolutely ridiculous!

I am waiting for AF to show up. Not sure if we will do an IUI this next cycle or not, I guess it will depend on when it would be and whether we can afford it before or after we refinance the house. One of those bridges we will cross when we come to it I think.

The new siding is supposed to start going up today, after it was rescheduled from last Wednesday which was after they pushed it back from last Monday.  Can you see how this is going?  T is about ready to burn down the house and call it a day.

I am running around like a chicken with my head cut off trying to tie up loose ends before we leave for NASCAR on Thursday.  (If you happen to be at Michigan International Speedway this weekend, I will be the drunk blonde woman sitting on top of the bus babbling to myself.  Oh, wait, that describes the whole infield, doesn't it?)  No time to do anything but I have a LONG list of things to do in the next three days.

Has anyone seen the remote to the world?  I'd like push pause for a little while if that is OK.

No Time

• I have no time to read or write. 
• Back from Seattle, it was fun. 
• Now that I am back from "vacation" I am too busy for internet stuff. 
• Siding going up tomorrow, in-laws coming for dinner tonight (just found out yesterday, we are not prepared for company right now).
• Will catch up when I can on my reading and then will catch up on my writing.
• Vanilla Vodka = GOOOOOOOD especially with cherries.

Dog + Construction = Puke

Poor Maggie is not handling the construction well.  She is not eating again.  Drives me crazy.  She almost looks too sad to eat. (I think she is suffering from anorexia brought on by autism, if that is possible. No joke, I am completely serious.)

 

The electrician is supposed to come tomorrow to rewire the outside lights and install a ceiling fan in the livingroom.  I can't wait.  We will also get some more outlets in our bedroom (only one right now) so that will be nice.  No more extension cords run around the floor.

 

We have to clean, shop, pack and repair the broken boards on the house before we leave for Seattle on Thursday morning.  We should be able to get it all done...I hope.

 

The good news is I found my bite splint. I have been needing it lately with all the stress and couldn't find it (TMJ on overdrive!).  It was in the pocket of a bag I haven't used in a while.  I found it cleaning out the dormer so the electrician can get into the attic, which is full of wasps and bees since there was no screen on the roof vent.  *shaking my head*

 

THIS is why we are skipping the IUI this month, which would be this week sometime as well.  (Gold star on Blue's forehead for thinking ahead!)

 

See you all next week!

 

PS - Jen P. I'm thinking of you girl and will check in when I can to see what is happening with your little Kiwi.

 

What day is it again? Oh, that's right, I don't care.

I am not supposed to care since we are taking this cycle off.  I woke up this morning with no concept of where I was in my cycle.  I decided to temp just this once to see whether I was Pre or Post ovulation.  97.3 means I am Pre.  I just so happened to notice that I was feeling a bit crampy today and I just happened to notice that just after lunch I felt a quick sharp pain in my right ovary.  I then thought quite in passing that I should be ovulating sometime this week so I did a nonchalant day count and discovered that today is CD14. Hmm.  You know, not that I care because I have too many other things going on right now.  Ask me if I care in another couple of weeks would ya? You know, because right now I don't care...but I might temp tomorrow just to see.  You know, for curiosity's sake.

---

This past weekend:

We stripped the house. (It is MUCHO ugly at this point, can't wait for that beautiful new siding.)

We drank a LOT.

T is turning in the aluminum for $ this afternoon.

I am getting a massage tonight.

T is going to a concert tonight. (Killswitch Engage anyone?)

I will clean out all of our junk blocking the access door to the attic tonight.

---

This morning I:

Called the siding guy to schedule a meeting on Wednesday.

Called the GYN to schedule my annual exam.

Called the carpet cleaning people.

Made the car payment.

Made the Home Depot payment.

Picked up more FB for Men at GNC.

Made a HUGE to-do list for the next three days.

Oh yeah, and went to work.

 

Sometime before Thursday we will:

Do laundry.

Buy new dress clothes for T since his are all too big now after his weight loss.

Have the electrical work done inside and out.

Re-negotiate the contract with the siding people since we found some ugly things we weren't expecting hiding under the aluminum.

Confirm everything with the house/dog sitter.

Clean the house.

Pack.

Charge the camera.

Set the VCR to tape the NASCAR race on Sunday since we will be flying home during that time.

Pick up the dog poop out back.

Put out the trash.

Take pictures of the house in its ugly stage. (Did I mention how ugly it is?  It looks like a burned out carcass of a house you would find in downtown Detroit.)

Make repairs to the house so it is set to go for the siding people.

Completely freak out because there is NO TIME to do all of this AND work full-time AND you know, eat and sleep...all in the next three days!

 

Things to do this weekend

• Help husband and friend strip awnings and all gold aluminum siding off of house.  (New Dusty Blue Vinyl Siding will be installed by professionals sometime in the next two weeks.)
• Duck and run from bees, wasps and assorted other flying insects that live beneath above mentioned siding.
• Make several trips to Sam's Club to buy more wasp and hornet killer in the 4 pack for $10.
• Go to the gym. (I was complimented on our dedication to the gym by the membership manager yesterday.)
• Go tanning. (I am no longer a splotchy pink and white color, now I am a rich golden splotchy color.)
• Shop with husband for dress clothes to wear at wedding in Seattle next weekend.
• Figure out how to contact bf (the bride, already in Seattle but God only knows where) to get shoe sizes of other girls so I can buy shoes for the three of us.
• Knit my little heart out or I will not get my poncho finished on time to wear it in Seattle next weekend.
• Pay bills.
• FREAK OUT that the wedding in Seattle is NEXT WEEKEND!!!!!
• DRINK MYSELF SILLY AND REMIND MYSELF WE ARE NOT TRYING THIS MONTH SO THAT WE CAN GET ALL THIS SHIT OUT OF THE WAY SO WE CAN RELAX ALREADY! (While ignoring the twinges I keep feeling in the ovarian area.)

Long, slow, deep breath.

The Day at the Beach...That Wasn't.

After the long and somewhat confusing breakfast with the Elephant Clan, T and I headed to the beach at the State Park.  We had a cooler with pop and Gatorade in the car along with a sheet to sit on, two towels and TWO bottles of sun lotion.  It was a HOT day and the water was in the 70's with 4-6 foot waves.  Perfect conditions for a romp in the lake.

We couldn't turn left from Northland Dr. back onto West River due to the fact that the turn-around thing no longer exists, I assume once they are finished with construction over there the turn-around thing will be back.  So we headed up Plainfield to 96, couldn't get onto 131 from there since construction has that closed too.  We kept going up to Alpine, went across the bridge and right back down onto the highway again toward 131.  Perfect...until we hit a stand still.  The brilliant people at MDOT decided that it would be a great idea to merge three lanes of traffic into one lane...ALL AT ONCE!  By 11:30 we were still sitting on the on ramp and I told T that if he wanted to forget the beach today and just head home and watch the races (NASCAR and Formula 1) that I would understand.  Then the low fuel light came on.   

Four years later when we finally made it past the Ann/Turner and we had three lanes available again we took off and merged uneventfully onto 196.  We were off and running again.  No problem.  We stopped for gas and continued on our way.  It seemed that our major delays were over, until we were in (Dutchtown) on the main road to the park.  It appeared that everyone was interested in going 5mph below the speed limit and since the road had two lanes in each direction, this meant that cars could ride side by side...completely blocking our way.  T's blood pressure was going through the roof at this point.  All he wanted was to go jump in the lake, but he couldn't get TO the lake.  The closer we got to the park the more obstacles were in our path, these included stupid people blocking traffic while waiting for a parking spot, little girls on roller blades jutting out into traffic so as not to hit the person on the bicycle that just stopped abruptly in front of them, and the idiot trying to carry three beach chairs while riding his bike, and failing.

At long last we made it to the beach and parked the car.  T got out and reached in the back seat to grab his change of clothes and then stopped.  There was the cooler, there were the towels and sun lotion, his clothes were not there.  We determined that his swim trunks were nicely folded on the chair in the living room back at home.  We looked across the white sand at the huge whitecaps coming in and all the people in both sand and water.  We watched the wind surfer using the hefty breeze to its fullest extent and then we got back into the car and started the long journey home.

We pulled into the driveway just in time for the start of the Formula 1 race (which we had set up to tape in our absence).  T asked if we should just grab our stuff and turn around and head right back to the beach.  I thought for a moment and decided that something was trying prevent us from going to the beach that day.  I thought we could stay home, watch the races and chill out in the basement and try the beach another day. (Thinking that watching the races would make him happy.)

We unpacked the car but I kept everything together hoping that one day this week we could head over to the lakeshore after work.  We settled down in the basement to watch the NASCAR race knowing the F1 race was being taped upstairs.  It was a good race, the Rousch drivers did very well, except Kenseth but I don't care about him because he is not on my fantasy league team.  Most of my guys did well (poor Michael Waltrip, race after race he is in the wrong place at the wrong time) and Kurt Busch won, Mark Martin came in Third.   During one of the many cautions T flipped the TV over to Headline News hoping we could find out whether Lance Armstrong was able to pull off the 7th championship in the Tour de France.  He did not see anything about Lance but unfortunately he did see who won the F1 race he hadn't watched yet. (!!!!!! = @*$^#%!&^)  Let me tell you, nothing gets him angry faster than hearing the winner before he has seen the race.  Ugh!  We should have just gone back to the beach.

After the race was over he went out back to start working on the back yard while I paid some bills.  Once all the dirt was used up (15 bags worth) and half of the grass seed was down he mowed the front lawn.  He hung the new door in the garage and then found out that if it was hung level the door knob did not line up with the catch on the jam. More tinkering ensued. 

Needless to say that yesterday turned out to be one of those days that we should never have gotten out of bed.  This is why we are determined to make today better.  T gets out of work at 3:30, I am leaving at 3:00 which will get us both home around the same time.  We will then grab the items still packed from yesterday and head back to the beach for a late afternoon dip in the big lake. 

Wish us luck!!!!

This better work.

Sou Where Yaying?

My Thule of Rumb…um, I mean my Rule of Thumb is …”No knitting after the second martini”.  This rule came about after several projects went by the wayside (losing countless stitches then attempting to gain them back resulting in a nice big K shape) as I RELAXED with a drink by my side and needles in hand.  My BIL and SIL will attest to this since their “Wedding Afghan” does not fold properly into a rectanlge.  I say, “Who the fuck cares, you know you only fold it when the parents come over anyway”, which has been proven since the afghan has appeared in the majority of the new baby pictures.  *grand sweeping bow*  This has lead to many a conversation which goes like this… “Have you seen the pictures of my new nephew?  Here he is with his eyes open, see that?  I made that afghan.  Yes, thank you.  Here he is sleeping on his mother’s chest.  See, there is the afghan again.  There he is with his father, yup, my afghan again.  It must be their favorite, I made it you know.  Huh? Yes, he is cute isn’t he?”

This explains why I am sitting here (knot nitting) writing this (slowly since I have to correct every other word) instead of knitting my heart out to get my new poncho finished in time to wear at my friend’s rehearsal dinner in Seattle.   The explanation to this is tow-fodl… I mean, two-fold… 

1)      After two beers and 1 and 5/7ths gin martinis with two olives (each) and a little dirt (dirt=olive juice for the uninformed) I am feeling pretty good about life…except that part where everyone else gets a baby but me.

2)    Um… what?

3)    Oh yeah, I am loading audio books from the library (read: FREE) onto my new iPod (20GB with a cull-folor…whoops, full-color screen which can show slide shoes of my pictures as well as play my mooooooosik.)

.

.

.

 

What am I loading? 

 

Audio books!  Duh! Don’t you people listen?  Um, I mean, READ?

 

Well, yeah.

 

Anyway, so I have three books here which I have not read/listened to yet.   They are…in no particular order:

1)      Ya-Yas in Bloom by Rebecca Wells (Prequel I believe to Tiny Alters Everywhere)

2)    The Lake House by James Patterson and

3)    Morality for Beautiful Girls by Alexander McCall Smith (Author of The #1 Ladies Detective Agency which is a MUST READ)

 

Look at me…skunk as a drunk and lill stalking literature.

 

RIGHT!  … SO!

 

Did I have a point?  Probably not.  Stay tuned … in our next episode our heroine is Still NOT PREGNANT.

Now a word from our sponsors, Gin, Vermouth, Pimento Stuffed Green Olives and Glass Chilled in the Freezer!

 

*Hhhhhick*

It is in the water...and I am thirsty

There must be something in the water...

 

I have recently learned about not one, not two but 5 babies that will be born to co-workers in the next 8 months.  What the FUCK is going on around here?

 

Co-worker #1) All THREE of his grown children are expecting babies AT THE SAME TIME!!!!  October, February and March due dates.  You know, grandparents don't share pictures and stories...oh, wait, YES THEY DO!!!!!

 

Co-worker #2) When he announced his wife was expecting a couple years ago I held it together just fine until I got home that night; and then BAWLED FOR HOURS!!!!  They are now expecting #2 in February.

 

Co-worker #3) The one who has been trying his hardest to push back the TTC for YEARS while his wife has pushed to have a baby just announced she is due in February.  My reaction?  I gave the man a thumbs up.

 

So, whatever the Hell is in the water around this place better work and someone better get me a BIG OLE JUG of it right quick because I don't know how much more of this I can take... and come February...I might just have to leave the country.

Talking and Abnormality

We have talked a lot since we started trying to conceive.  Last night we talked about how difficult it might be for us to adopt domestically simply based on T's appearance.  He admits he looks different.  He has been walking the dog and come across people down the block who have crossed the street so as not to walk by him.  In my opinion he looks like a typical Harley-Biker-Dude.  He is not one, doesn't own a bike, but would like one.  The point is, people are intimidated by the way he looks and he believes the first picture a birth-mother would see in our profile would be the end of it. 

I tried to convince him that I happen to be drawn to people who look like him.  In a crowd of people I am drawn to those who look a bit rough around the edges.  Sure, I can appreciate the well-dressed-super-coifed-well-spoken-well-manicured types too.  They just aren't "my type".  He agrees this is my type but that I am also completely abnormal and who in their right mind would give a child to a guy who looks so much like this (only without the tattoos and earrings).  I tried to tell him there are people out there who would want someone like us to raise their child; free from the oppressive prejudiced social mores that come with the rich suburban white-bread sort of couple.  He doesn't believe me.

This lead into the conversation about Roberts and the Supreme Court and overturning Roe and how HORRIBLE this is all going to be and how much we hate W.  He brought up the fact that at the same time they are making it harder and harder to abort an unwanted baby they are not making it any easier for people like us to adopt them.  You would think one door closing would open up the other.  Now, no one expects them to stand on a street corner handing out babies to any infertile walking by.  Of course there must be standards, etc.  I hear more about snowfl*ke babies than I do about the hundreds, if not thousands of kids who are growing up in the foster-care system.  It just breaks my heart.

We talked a lot last night.  We didn't come up with any answers, we just went round and round the problems we see in society and agreed neither one of us understands why the system that we have works against itself.

Then I brought up the fact that he keeps doting on me.  I told him it isn't right for me to sit on the couch and drink a beer while he gets up and cleans during commercials.  I started getting up each commercial break with him to do a little here and a little there and he actually got irritated at my help.  I told him that I could tell he was treating me differently when we thought I might be pregnant from the IUI.  Then we found out I wasn't and he treated me special because I wasn't pregnant.  Now he is treating me special because we are taking a break which means I can once again enjoy a bit of alcohol so he wants to be the designated driver and he wants me to tell him when my glass is empty so he can get me another one.  He is treating me like a queen...and it makes me uncomfortable.  I told him I just want to be normal.  He reminded me that I am NOT "normal" and he has NEVER treated me "normal" because he is always going out of his way to make me feel special.

*Sigh* I just love that man.

You Go Grrl!

The Most Fantastic Stupendous Incredibly Good Vibes Going Out To Grrl, Sarah, Mr. Grrl and Little Gefilte.

My most hearty CONGRATULATIONS to the entire extended family.

How My Husband Handles the Negative

T was pretty upset that this IUI didn't work out.  Mostly because of the timing issue.  Like I said, it was supposed to be a Letrazole, U/S & Post-Coital, HCG, we-do-our-thing, Prometrium and get pregnant kind of cycle.  It turned into a Letrazole, U/S & Post-Coital, HCG, IUI next day, Premetrium, CRAMPS/PERIOD/LOTS OF ALCOHOL kind of cycle. 

T didn't like the timing, he gets two days to save up for an S/A and with the IUI the day after the PCT he thought he did not have time to replenish his resources. I do not think this was an issue since his post-wash count was 93 million or something but he keeps going back to what the nurse said at the PCT, "The motility is good but we would like to see more (meaning higher numbers)". Keep in mind that the PCT was done the day we were both sunburned beyond recognition and he admitted that in the During-Coital time he was not thinking "Whose your Daddy?" but rather "If I come, will you get off of me?" which he believes inhibited his performance, read: quantity. 

T also didn't like the fact that based on the outcome of the post-coital the doctor wanted anti-sperm antibodies tests run on both of us.  They drew my blood that day but T had to wait an entire week to return for his since they only run those tests on Tuesdays and we were there on Tuesday but he had already used up his chance for a sample that day and apparently needed his reserves for the IUI the next day.  T thinks they should have held off on the IUI until the next cycle, AFTER they knew the results of the anti-sperm antibodies tests (both came out just fine BTW).  We could have been completely wasting our time and money depending on how those tests came out. 

I told him that given the information they had at the time the IUI was our best chance to make something out of that cycle.  He grudgingly shrugged and (sort of) agreed with that.  Basically he is just angry that we went through all of this and we have nothing to show for it but my Visa bill.  I tried very hard to sound comforting and supportive of his feelings.  I told him that we are doing the IUIs to bypass the problems we have to let conception happen naturally (sperm and egg doing their thing on their own) which is still not a guarantee.  We still need the sperm to fertilize the egg which we cannot force doing what we are doing.  No matter how much money we spend on drugs or ultrasounds or IUIs we cannot MAKE the egg fertilize and given that happens we cannot MAKE the embryo implant.

I thought this all sounded quite logical and realistic and given my tone of voice very understanding.

His reply?

"I'm going to have to have sex with a hamster aren't I?

.

.

.

I never should have told him about that particular test.

Blow by Blow

Friday - Negative HPT. Bummed and tell T who says it is too early and he doesn't believe it. I agree to wait a week and see what happens though I know in my heart that the HPT was right.

 

Saturday - While shopping we decide to buy a case of Miller Lite for me in the hopes that having it sitting there in the fridge all inviting-like will ensure that I am actually knocked up and will not be able to enjoy them.  T says not to worry, he will gladly enjoy them in front of me even though he prefers a different brand.

 

Sunday - Notice cramp-like warmth in my lower abdomen during lunch.  TP check confirms blood.  I take 800mg Ibuprofen and call it a cycle.  I grabbed the first of what would be many Miller Lites that afternoon/evening.

 

Sunday Night/ Monday Morning - Toss and turn unable to get into a comfortable position because the cramps hurt SO BAD and would not GO AWAY!!!! 

 

Monday - Send out emails to all who knew of the IUI letting them know it did not work and then having to accept all the "I'm sorries" followed by the questions of "why didn't it work?".  Um, yeah, that happens sometimes.  I actually used the analogy, "You can lead a horse to water but you can't make him fertilize the egg."  I think it worked.  I called the Fertility God's office and left a voicemail for the nurse that #1) this is CD1, #2) the IUI didn't work, #3) we are taking this next cycle off, #4) I would like to be checked for a cyst on/near my right ovary since I've had pain their for the last three months, and #5) I would like to get the results of the anti-sperm antibodies tests that both T and I had done two weeks ago.  Hopefully she'll call back this afternoon.

Just like in the original Star Wars

The big battle scene at the end where the rebels are trying to land the shots down the small shoot on the Death Star and the one sends off his shot and the guy yells "It's a hit!" and then the other guy goes "Negative, negative!  It didn't go in, just impacted on the surface."

Yeah, that's about right.