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?

In this installment of Dr. WaitnSee...The Cyst

The Big Bad Cyst is on the right ovary and is 5cm x 2cm.  She couldn't feel it during the exam.  Not really that much to worry about.  If/When I get my next period I will have another u/s to see if it is bigger or smaller.  If it is bigger then we will take the month off of Clomid.  If it is smaller then we will up the Clomid to 100mg.

The real fun came when I told T that I have a lab slip for him to get his first SA.  This lead to quite a few amusing comments through course of the night.  Basically he crafted a scenario where the lab bathroom turns into a sleazy 25-cent peep show booth with sticky porn magazines and stains on the walls.  He said he wants to bring his own magazine and a black light to inspect things before he gets down to business.  He had me rolling on the floor when he imitated Al Bundy heading off to the bathroom with the newspaper under his arm, only with T it was a porn magazine and he was holding the cup in the other hand. He asked if I could go in with him, I told him I didn't know the rules about that.  Then he asked whether I could just spit into the cup, if that would be acceptable.  I told him probably not.

We talked about IUI and IVF and Injectibles and how neither one of us wants to take a month off but we don't want to increase the Clomid and make things worse.  We talked about how neither one of us wants me to take birth control for a month since they cause me major pain in the Endo areas along with joint pain in my hips and knees. Oh yeah, and birth control is sort of defeating the purpose at this point. 

I told him I feel like we are just putting in our time until we can adopt.  He wants me to remain positive.  I've never been positive.  He said adoption was our worse case scenario which isn't really a bad thing at all.  I told him how my main goal in all of this is to be a mother, not to be pregnant or give birth.  While I think those things would be really great experiences I will not forgo the former for the latter.

He kept cracking jokes through out our talk and kept apologizing saying that we should be serious.  I told him to keep joking because we have to keep laughing, otherwise it gets too damn depressing.  I think he understood that. 

So, in true Dr. WaitnSee fashion, we are once again waiting to see where we need to go. 

The good news is according to her scale I am down 18 pounds since I was there in October (evidenced by the safety pin holding my pants up since I haven't had time to move the buttons yet).  She said the weight loss will definitely help.

I guess I feel like we are in the same place we were before I went to see her.  We are still in the 2WW and won't know anything more until after then.  So, I shall continue to wait.

We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties...

I have been waiting to post until after my doctor's appointment this afternoon since until then I will still have absolutely no idea what I am facing with the whole cyst thing.  I don't know its size, what side it is on or how much trouble it may be causing.  I know I O'd on CD15 and am now 8DPO.  I am using my progesterone like a good girl and have the obligatory flat prog. temps to prove it. (The cyst can't be that bad if I don't know where it is, can it?)

No, I haven't been to my appointment yet but I have found something new to obsess about for a couple days which has been a nice distraction really.  It all started Friday when T gave me an iPod for my birthday.  I was thrilled and got more and more excited as the night went on and we went to Best Buy to purchase accessories for it. We got the car adapter/charger so I can listen to it on my car stereo, and the armband so I can listen to it while I workout at the gym.  We got home and I immediately started reading the owners manual only to find out that the iPod requires Windows 2000 or XP.  My home computer runs on Windows ME.  (I know the joke...ME stands for Many Errors.  I am here to tell you that everything you have heard about ME is TRUE!)  So, T's excitement about giving me the ultimate birthday present was dashed when we found out that I couldn't even load the software.  Sunday after discussing different options we (rather quickly) gave up and ordered a Dell.  DUDE, I'M GETTIN' A DELL!!!  They sent me an email saying it had shipped and now I am addicted to checking the tracking numbers on the UPS website.  My computer is right at this minute in three separate boxes somewhere in Illinois.  They expect it to reach me tomorrow. I can't wait for it to show up so I can load up the iPod and the Turbo Tax! (I know I'm sick.) 

You must realize that my current computer is a 6 year old laptop, bought off the shelf at Best Buy the same day I received a bonus from work.  I left work, went to the store and purchased my first ever computer.  I will never do this again.  We have had nothing but trouble with it from day one.  First with AOL (finally dumped the losers), then with the ME and now just not enough memory to do anything with all of our fun high tech toys (camera, cd burner, PDA, and now iPod).  The iPod was just the straw that broke the camel's back.  T has wanted to smash the thing with a sledgehammer for years.  Every time he walks into the room the computer locks up.  This makes it difficult to do things, like order parts for his car or look at porn, etc.  He has made me promise that when the laptop finally gives up the ghost he gets to "through it out the second story window onto the driveway, then run it over with the semi from work, then piss on it and finally put it into a press and crunch the hell out of it".  I told him once it actually dies he can have all the fun he wants but until then it will be my "writing" computer.  You know, because in my own mind I will now be able to write that novel.  Uh Huh.

In other news I pooped for the first time since Friday!  Don't get me wrong, I have not felt uncomfortably constipated, I just haven't pooped in days.  I'm starting to feel like Dooce.  I know the whole low-carb thing can lead to that (down 14 pounds now).  I get it, I have been taking fiber supplements and eating raw veggies out the ass (pun intended).   I thought if nothing else the Metformin would help me out a bit, but no.  I may have to take my own advice and go out for lunch tomorrow.

Will update after my appointment if there is anything worth posting.  I am basically hoping I get off with a slap on the wrist and an order to take next month off of the Clomid but nothing in my life has ever been that easy.

(Wouldn't it be funny if this cycle worked and I was pregnant and so taking the month off Clomid would be a mute point?)

Oh, sorry, I forgot, this is real life, not TV.

Why I Love My SIL and Other Good News

 

Because she sends me emails like this:

IT'S A BOY!!!!!

 

we went for the ultrasound today and just like his father, our little boy enjoyed showing everyone his stuff.  J finds it very humorous that our child already takes after him.

 

You must realize that we have been victims of J's moonings on several occasions.  Like just this past Christmas for instance.

---

So the other good news is that T's company is switching to new insurance.  I know this is often time for groans and sobs and piles of paperwork but I was looking through the plan last night and ALL of our doctors participate and the local Fertility Gods are covered up to 50% which is better than the 0% we had before and I can use my OB/GYN as my primary care physician so I don't have to make a bazillion phone calls for referrals for things anymore. (How is that for a sentence?)  Even the Thyroid Guru was listed in the book. Whoo Hoo!

 

That insurance might just be the best birthday present I get this year!

He Loves Me So Much

Last night I mentioned to T that people keep asking me what we have planned to celebrate my 30th birthday Friday night.  I tell them we don't have anything planned, we will probably go out to dinner. He suggested this answer:

 

Tell them that I am taking you out to dinner...at Chuckie Cheese's

so we can have pizza which you can't eat and cake and ice cream which you can't eat,

and then after the big mouse sings to you we'll play games with all the little kids...cause that won't depress you at all.

Then, since you are so old, we will go buy you a '92 Lincoln Town Car with the blinker that never turns off.

Then we will head home because old people turn in early so you'll have to be to bed by 7 o'clock.

 

Did I mention he turns 30 at the end of March and I will have to listen to how old I am for another two months?

The Clomid DID Help Me Grow A Little Something!

I have a cyst. Going to see the dr on the 25th. I think this is when we will have a little talk about what we each expect to happen. I expect to get a referral to the local Fertility Gods, I'm not real sure what she's thinking yet.

When Did You Start To Feel Infertile?

I became infertile long before I even dreamed of having children. In my 18 year old mind my future would run something like this:
1) Go to college
2) Get engaged to T in our sophomore year
3) Get married to T after graduation
4) Live in an apartment for a couple years
5) Buy a house
6) Have a couple kids...and a dog
7) Live happily ever after

This all came to a crashing halt in one day. It was a Friday in June of 1993. I awoke from the anesthesia and I felt SO sleepy. I could barely keep my eyes open. My mother was sitting beside me reading her book. She had already spoken to the doctor who confirmed it was Endo that had been causing me all the pain and wonky periods. She cleaned me all up and thought I should feel much better post surgery. (I didn't feel better but that is another post.) As I lay there in recovery I heard the woman across the hall/room-full-of-beds-divided-by-curtains talking to her nurse.
She said "Hopefully the next time I am in the hospital it will be to have a baby!"
Right then and there I knew I may never have children. I didn't need anyone to tell me the statistics regarding Stage I Endo and pregnancies were actually pretty favorable. I didn't need anyone to tell me that I could always adopt. I knew it, laying there, still foggy headed from the surgery. This would be my lot in life.
The next fall I went away to college where most freshmen were going completely crazy being away from home for the first time. I however, was looking ahead to the future. My friends and I would venture to the mall and walking through Sears I remember going past the baby clothes on our way to some other department and I just stopped in my tracks and looked at those cute little outfits on those little hangers and I almost cried. I was too young and not even engaged much less married. I felt loss. I didn't remember how badly I felt until a couple weeks ago when I went back and read my journal from that time. I wrote about how heartbroken I felt when I saw a baby or a pregnant woman. I wrote about how I may never get the chance to experience that and it hurt so bad to know it. I asked my GYN during my yearly exam if she could test my fertility (I had NO idea what that entailed at the time). I had every other possible symptom of Endo except infertility which had yet to be proven. I told her if I was going to be infertile I would rather deal with it then rather than be heartbroken later after trying and failing. She refused to discuss it until I wanted children.
That was all 12 years ago. (No, we didn't get engaged sophomore year, it was 3 LONG years after graduation when we finally got married and you know how the kid situation is going...) It was in the fall of 2002 that I really started feeling the pressure to have a baby. I knew my Endo had gone unchecked since my second lap in 1996 and though I had been on birth control pills she had left some Endo in there for fear of damaging the organs the implants were on. I thought for sure my abdomen would have been full of it. I quit my birth control pills in September of that year hoping the daily pain I was having would stop. It did. I felt light years better. I still wanted to have a baby as soon as possible so that I could go in for my "gutting" as T calls it. (I want to have two kids, or one and adopt another depending how it goes, and then have a complete hysterectomy. This has been our plan for so long I can't remember exactly when we came up with it.) I brought up the subject with T and he flatly refused at that point. We had too much debt and he was finally able to enjoy life the way he wanted. We were able to pick up and drive across the state to go see a concert if we wanted. We could go up to Traverse City at a moments notice. We didn't have any responsibilities tying us down. He wasn't ready. His new favorite move was "pulling out" which induced many nights of my burying my face in the pillow to cry after he fell asleep.
I can't tell you how many nights I cried as I told him that we could be running out of time. I cried as he told me that was a risk he was willing to take. After two years of the same argument over and over again I finally told him that if he could look me in the eye right then and tell me that he didn't care at all about having a biological child I would drop the subject and we could wait another few years, like when were 35, and then start adoption procedures. (I was banking on previous comments about wanting to try for bio kids before moving on to adoption. I honestly don't know what I would have done if he said "Fine, let's just adopt in 5 years.") Adoption is something that we have always talked about. I told him I may not be able to provide bio kids but that I would totally want to adopt. He agreed that we would definitely go that route if we couldn't produce our own children. (Please note the word PRODUCE in that sentence, I do not wish to be seen as an asshat here.) When I put it to him that way I think it triggered something. I think he realized that I wasn't just wasting my breath over the last two years trying to convince him that time was of the essence.
He dragged his feet another month or so but then I filled the Rx for the Clomid and got the ball rolling. He was then along for the ride and seemed to switch gears pretty quickly considering all we had been through up to that point. He immediately became concerned with my nutrition. Was I eating enough veggies? Getting enough calcium? Cutting back on sugar? Doing away with caffeine? I was surprised and touched at this side of him.
I am now on my fifth cycle of Clomid. I am ovulating on 50mg so there is no need for a higher dose. I am also on Metformin and taking Estradiol and Progesterone supps post ovulation. I think next month might be a good time for T to go in and have his first SA. I have yet to discuss this with him as I am not sure exactly how he will react and is there ever a good time to say "Honey, I think it is time for you to cozy up with the cup so we can see just how much of a man you are"? (No I do not believe that male factor infertility makes men any less manly just as an infertile woman is no less womanly, but we all know how men think of themselves and their, well, by products.) I am sure he will go and with only a bit of grumbling about hassle, embarrassment, etc. What I am more concerned about is the discussion about moving on to a RE. I want to go see the Fertility Gods in April. Both of the FGs are male. T has always had an issue with me seeing a male doctor for female issues. Our GP was always male and that was fine but female parts are different. This is going to take some convincing, especially since our insurance won't cover it. I think I will start off with "It's just for a consultation so they can tell me what my chances are". Then based on their recommendations we can go from there.
If there is one characteristic that sticks out with my husband it is stubbornness. Just ask anyone in his family. They all think I deserve some sort of an award for putting up with him so long. I just hope that he uses that stubbornness for good instead of evil. I hope that it will drive him to try IUI or convince him that I should get regular acupuncture.
What am I trying to say? I'm not sure. I have felt infertile for so long I no longer have the imagination to see myself any other way (yet true INFERTILES who have tried 2+ years, suffered miscarriages and who have tried reproductive technology that I know I am not willing to go through would not think of me this way). I guess it boils down to:
1)I want a baby
2)I love my husband more than life itself and
3)I honestly do not see myself giving birth...ever.

It Is a Weighty Issue

Last night while watching The Biggest Loser (which T calls the "fat people show") T said that he wished I wouldn't focus on the scale so much. He said I get all excited when I lose weight which is good but that I should pay attention to my energy, the way my clothes fit, how I feel. I said that I really haven't noticed much change since we have been going to the gym regularly in November and since I started the diet on New Year's Day. He said he could tell a month ago that I was walking more upright. I didn't know that I was slouching before and I hadn't noticed straightening out either, but he did. He said he can tell I am slimming down. I said that I couldn't, but now that I think about it my size 18s are quite a bit more loose than they were a couple months ago. I will have to look to see if I still have some size 16s around to try on. I replaced them when I realized they were making me feel ill the whole time I wore them. (I was also wearing holes in the inner upper thigh from my legs rubbing together when I walk. Ugh!)
I like the weight lifting. It makes me feel stronger and I can tell my back doesn't hurt as much. These are all good things. I have seen many improvements. Why is it then that the only one that I really care deeply about is the number on the scale? I literally jumped for joy this morning when I saw that the first digit was a 1 instead of a 2 for the first time in over a year, maybe longer. My BMI has dropped to 29.5 from somewhere in the low to mid-30s. My goal is about 23. I have lost the first 10 pounds of the 40 I want to lose in total.
I have a long way to go but now I am beginning to see progress. The way I figure it, if I am as healthy as I can be then I can't blame a sedentary lifestyle or poor nutrition for my fertility issues. I know I have Endo. I know I have Hashimoto's. I suspect I have PCOS. They say the best thing I can do is strengthen my immune system. This is all a part of that, the regular exercise, weight lifting and the Endo/Low-Carb diet. The Metformin is probably helping too though I am only on 1000mg per day, a relatively low dose I think. Losing the weight is a WONDERFUL side effect of getting healthy, the thing is, I can't gauge on a weekly basis how my immune system is doing or how my fertility is increasing/decreasing. I can only see the numbers on the scale.
I have read that when a woman's weight is in a downward trend she is less likely to conceive. The body fears starvation coming and knows it will not be able to support a pregnancy. On the other hand, most people know that being severely overweight inhibits conception too. One must be in the middle, a healthy "normal" weight to conceive. Supposedly.
In 1998 at a time when I hated myself and everything about me I lost weight. 38 pounds. I walked everyday, I watched what I ate. I followed a plan that I had ordered off of an infomercial. It actually worked! I got down to a weight that I hadn't seen since early on in high school but I couldn't maintain it. I gained back those 38 pounds and added 18 more. What I remember from being "skinny" was that I received a LOT of compliments and people asking me how I had done it. I had cheek bones and when I laid on my back my hip bones would stick up above my belly. That one shocked me one night, I saw these protruding things under my skin and pushed on them trying to figure out what they were until it finally sunk in what I was seeing and feeling were actually my hips. T was more jealous of me when we went out to the bar to shoot pool. He could tell there were guys looking at me and didn't like it.
My other motivation? My father who has always struggled with his weight called me during the holidays to tell me he finally broke 200 pounds. He was 198. That was less than me. OH MY GOD! To follow that up I spoke to my SIL on the phone who had the weight loss surgery about 18 months ago and she said she was hovering between 193 and 198. This was also less than me. OH MY GOD AGAIN! I MUST LOSE THIS WEIGHT.
The only thing that would stop me now is a pregnancy. If I can shed the other 30 pounds by June I will be in. I don't foresee a pregnancy happening by then, do you? Not really.
In the meantime, I am wearing belts to keep my pants up and needing to replace the new bras I just bought that finally fit my big ole boobs which are now shrinking.
Will I ever be satisfied with what I have? Um...no.