apron strings

SURELY YOU JEST aka nasty mouth returns

So, i had to go to Big-Monied University RE Clinic who knows me as patient number 3248889904 for a follow-up wanding because the first one wasn't fun enough to see if the growth old lady weirdness that is keeping me from getting pregnant remains during this, the 13th, cycle.

I made my appointment at 7:45 a.m. so that I could quell my secretary's belief that I must surely have cancer to have this many doctor appointments so that they'd end up actually seeing me around 10:00a.m. which would put me in the city for an early lunch afterwards.

So, they (the word "they" will become very fuc.king relevant here shortly) call me back into the room at 9:15. 

I walk into the room with the big machine with the door to the bathroom where you go before the u/s to disrobe and wrap the sheet around you with your bare sweaty feet on the cold floor in the Big-Monied University RE clinic where you are patient 3248889904.

The woman from my last u/s was there. Ms.Itellyoueverythingoksoyounotaskquestions with a second somebody in a white coat. This white coat person said her name was something and that she was a med student. To which, I responded, with an out-stretched hand "Well, hi, I'm Mrs. Oneliner nice to meet you."

This white-coat person shook my hand with the weakest, coldest, rubbery fish like hand shake. Ever. Surely you jest.

Pssst, hey med students...if you're going to have your hand anywhere near my sna.tch and plan on putting a A WAND INSIDE ME....f'ing shake my hand with a firm, controlled and confident hand. Shake my hand with a handshake that reeks of "lady I know what I'm doing." Let me know that you know who you are and what you're doing.

In general, I only allow the confident to ENTER ME.  You know that ruddy-hair man I come in with sometimes? That's my husband. He's confident. Were he like you there would have been no us or at least I would have made him wait longer than the 48 hours that I did.

I want to know, I need to know that you are a little more confident than a buck-toothed twelve year old with funny hair and an odd mustache who is only found in ark.ansas. I need to know that you are going to wield that wand with confidence going directly where you need to with zero awkward mother- may- I moments, mmmmmmmmm....k?

So, there I am on the table, feet in stir-ups with Ms. Weakasshandshake awkwardly milling about.

And who should f'ing join the party? (see, i told you "they" would become relevant....remember, we have Ms. Itellyoueverythingoksoyou notaskquestions and Ms. Weakasshandshake) Why, it's none other than Mr. Fortysomethingcreepydudewithunibrow. Unibrow.

This is when I finally, stick up for myself...(sometimes all you need is a unibrow) so, I sit up on my elbows and move my knees as close to each other as I can so that the goods are not in full view to everyone walking behind Mr. Fortysomethingcreepydudewithunibrow in the hallway. I say "uh, so are all of you going to be in here for this?" as my knees start ever so slightly shaking from the force that i am exerting trying desperately to cover my ____________.

They get all antsy at this. It makes them nervous. Although Ms. Weakasshandshake was like that earlier. She's been like that her whole life. Come to think of it...she sort of reminded me of a ferret. Nervous and sniffy. I kept wanting to pick her up and place her outside the room just like I do with my twenty pound dog when she bothers me at night. There you go honey......but that's a different post.

Ms. Weakasshandshake offers to leave "if it will make me feel better," some other weirdness happens and I decide that I can negotiate. I work this like I've worked every case I've ever had.

So, I say, "no, no, no, don't leave.....but you know what you could do .....tell me what you see and then we can both learn something" to which she exclaimed, "sure and thanks!"  (i was a student once too. i would stay up all hours of the night finding something new about a case. there is a joke here about an eager beaver but i am not gong to make it.)

Ms. Itellyoueverythingoksoyounotasktquestions did not like this one bit. Nosiree. We do not tell people what we see when we look at their bodies. Patient knowledge bad. She pursed her lips and thought about asking Ms. Weakasshandshake outside to remind her not to tell me anything, but she too was afraid of the unibrow, so we forged ahead.

Back to Mr. Fortysomethingcreepydudewithunibrow. Apparently he's a resident. But he's forty-something and that's creepy. Who decides they want to look at snatc.hes for a living at forty? See. Exactly. Creepy. So I watch him put the cover-cond.om thing on the wand. He fails to take off the cover from the cover.cond.om.

He's never done this before. Of course he's a virgin at this...he has a unibrow. So, he asks me "to move down" and I swear on my life he looks at it as though he has never seen anything like it in his life. And, I'm sure many of you have quite the exciting sn.atch. But not this girl. Just plain ol'everyday kind of sn.atch.  Seriously nothing exciting. To me. But apparently very interesting to Mr. Fortysomethingcreepydudewithunibrow. Then, with much trepidation he proudly announces "Just relax this won't hurt a bit...." And we're off.   

I swear as I looked down over my being....his unibrow was perfectly framed by my feet in the stir-ups. Damn. I should have sooooo taken a picture with my camera phone.

So, Mr. Fortysomethingcreepydudewithunibrow gave his first u/s. (who thinks he'll tell his mother about it? Ewww, better yet...maybe his friends today at happy hour. oh wait. he has unibrow. unibrow=no friends.)

Just think....I was the one who ushered him into the world of the sna.tch that won't or can't produce. This is the stuff of life. Well, my life.

*******************************

Ms. Weakasshandshake turned into Ms. Itellyoueverything. I found out a lot.....it does look like I have endo. It's at least on my right ovary. I don't know how I feel about this. Endo is scary....incurable, infertile and hysterectomy...oh my! But, at least, at least, its something. That may be fixable.  That could explain no baby and 2 m/c??

HOW TO HAVE A BEAUTIFUL SATURDAY

Get up at 6:00 a.m. kiss your husband on the cheek. Let the dogs out. Feed them. Bring the water in the kettle on the stove to a boil. Open the front door and go down the two flights of stairs to the front lawn. Relish the cold damp brick on your feet as you walk down the steps. Cringe a little when the wet dew of the front lawn gets on your already cold feet. Pick up the NY Times on lawn. Climb the stairs again.

Read the times while sipping tea on the front porch with your feet on the rail. Look up after finishing Lin.da Greenh.ouse's article. Notice how big the big spider's web has gotten between the two giant ferns that hang on the front porch. Sit there for a minute. Breath.

Walk back through the glass front doors that you insisted to k be added to the house as you were building it. Because, as you said, "they added feng shui" even though you didn't and still don't really know what that means.

Quietly walk up the stairs and make your way through the master bedroom. Stop and look at k sleeping for a second. Make sure his chest is rising while you are at it. Promise yourself that you'll never let him know that you do that from time to time. Slip into the master bath.

Turn on the shower to let it get hot. Slip out of your clothes. Way too soon. Way before the water is even luke warm. Smile at your own stupidity, because you do this every Saturday. The one day you take a shower before k. Stand there and freeze while waiting outside of the shower for the water to get warm because putting your clothes back on means defeat. Look out the window. Note the bright yellow leaves. How they fill in the top half of the window not covered by the shutters.

Shower. Throw on jeans, clogs (smile as you remember k telling you last week "that no one wears clogs in p.orn") and your favorite sweater from college. Pull hair back and put on baseball cap.

Get into new orange convertible. Put the top down. Zip up your fleece. Take surface streets six miles through your small town into downtown. Feel the cold, crisp air threaten your ears with cold. Pass the fireman in your small town washing their fire trucks. Wave. Laugh at yourself for waving.

Drive down four miles of tree covered streets. Listen and watch the leaves rustle behind your car. Smell families starting fires in their fire places. Wonder if Georgia is the only place where you can drive with the convertible down and smell fires in fireplaces. Put on your sunglasses right as you arrive into downtown. As the sun comes up.

Get to the car-wash two minutes after they open.  Get out of car. Listen to the attendant as he says "wow, I'm impressed you drove in this weather with the top down." Relish this moment. The only moment in your life that anyone will imply that you are weather hardy. Go to the waiting room. Get a free cup of hot tea and sit in front of their fireplace. Knit.

Get in your now shiny orange convertible and drive to you favorite brunch spot.

Note that the most bitc.hy prosecutor in the State of Ge.orgia is seated at the table in the corner. Remember the last time you two had a case together she told the judge "I just got my as.s kicked" after you finished your motion. Smile as she sees and asks you, "can you believe I'm early?" You say "no!"  Hug her a little tighter this Saturday b/c things aren't working out with this boyfriend either and she just turned 35 in July. Talk about your mutual friend who is running for judge. Decide what you'll do and say if she does or doesn't win.

End the day by going to the gourmet grocery downtown with k. Note that they are playing opera. Note that you should listen to opera more. Its peaceful. Beautiful voices rising and falling.  Pick out cheese and wine. Find k saying yes to the rosemary and sourdough bread. Kiss him on the lips discreetly as he is waiting for bread. Note how nice that was and do it again. Remind yourself to do that more. Drive through midtown as the sun is setting. Hold k's hand in between shifting gears.

Put on the only opera CD that you have that is actually a movie soundtrack.Sit out on deck with a fire in the outdoor fireplace.  Leave door open so that you can hear the opera you put on the stereo. Drink wine. And eat cheese and rosemary bread. Laugh. Open a second bottle of wine. Finish that one too.  Laugh more. Listen as your husband tells you he loves you in a tipsy but meaningful way.

Know that Joh.n May.er. is right. That the heart of life is good. That this life continuing ...just like this... without adding anything, without a child, would still be a good life.

THE TRAVELING INFERTILES

So, last weekend the dogs, k and I, (all infertile, btw. 2 of us officially, 2 of us in theory) were invited by my boss to spend the weekend at his cabin with him (and his new girlfriend) in north georgia.   

The dogs were as stinky as they always are so I thought they should get a bath before we headed  out. (they were none too pleased).

Winston seems surprised by the dirtiness of the water.

They quit ignoring me after I let them air dry. Cricket jumped out at some point :  0 but she ended up un-scathed (thank good

ness). She now has an s&m looking harness thanks to a petsmart in deliver-

ance land georgia.

I love this golden tree.   

It was cool and so we built a fire. had smores  and got out the thick blankets.  (stop laughing. I moved back to Georgia b/c I don't do so well in states with real weather :  )

It's a beautiful cabin, here's a view from the porch.

All in all we loved it and got some much-needed relaxation.

NEXT STOP PLEASE

We are changing plans.

The background. Me: 31, K 33, TTC #1 for 12 cycles. 2 m/c. RE has no clue why no baby.

The plan is supposed to be to get an u/s and then precede with 3 IUI's starting in about 20 days. If they don't work then we are supposed to look towards IVF.

I decided this weekend that I'm not ready to get on the  medication ...IUI...RE....trajectory just yet.

I need to mourn. We need to mourn. We need to mourn the loss of our privacy. We need time to let go of the idea that its just going to happen. We need to let go of the dream of a surprise pregnancy.

We also need to process the numerous emotions related to infertility. And we need time to do that.

Plus, I feel compelled to demand this time for us....because I am not, we are not in a place where we need to be to sustain the emotional onslaught that often accompanies infertility treatments.

K is stressed with work he says (I personally think he is stressed b/c he can't fix something that is making me sad....).  I am stressed and sad and  occasionally even despondent.

I think the road ahead of us is potentially long and I refuse to start down it until I know we are in the best place both individually and as a unit.

Do you ever feel like if you could step away for a minute and make the world stop spinning you could deal with whatever was troubling you so and maybe even keep it from swallowing you? Well, that's how I feel, and I'm stepping back.

Probably not for long...maybe 2 or 3 months. During which I plan on taking more yoga, more walks with K and meditating every morning.

I just refuse to let infertility be my master. My FSH is okay, I'm 31, and my marriage and me need a reprieve...if only momentarily.

LET"S PLAY DOCTOR

I am bothered. Every since our meeting with the RE I've had these feelings of nervousness and helplessness that I just can't shake. 

I feel like the RE should have given us better information.  I am hoping that she was just having a bad day...but frankly she seemed a little goofy and/or disinterested. I don't know if she was tired or didn't take our not getting PG seriously since we appear relatively fertile on paper.

Getting another RE is not really an option......b/c of insurance.

She kept telling me that she thinks I may have endo b/c of something on a recent u/s. I asked her about the symptoms...and I have none of them (except infertility). She became less interested in the endo deal when, after my urging, she noted that whatever it was it wasn't there in March when I had another u/s.

So, maybe I developed such an awful case of endo that we can't get PG since March....but that's not likely. (or, is it?) See, I don't effin know. I don't like not knowing.

That was all she had. Endo. Her only suggestion as to why we've had 2 very early mc's and have not gotten PG in the other 10 months.   She was "excited" about the m/c's. I mean, i get that. I am one of the lucky few who seems able to get PG ...but still I m/c on the day of the BFP and well not ending up with a baby after 12 months is infertility,

Her only solution: 3 IUI's and if they do not work....IVF.

Really?

What if there is a problem (and 10 months no Pg + 2 months of m/c indicate to me that there might be a problem) and the IUIs do not work. 

And the IUI's are $500. a pop not to mention all the heartache associated therewith. Why can't we try something else that might help us get PG the old fashioned way. Or, is that hopeless after 12 months?

What about Femara or Clomid.

I learned way more from the comments on my blog after my RE appointment than I did from her. Why didn't she tell me that an unmedicated IUI is a waste of time like you lovely people did?

If any of you can answer any of the following I'll owe you a beer or my first born which ever you prefer. (i have zero class and a bad sense of humor...so, you'll probably want to go for the beer)

1. Can endo pop up on your uterus/ovaries in 6 months so bad that it keeps you from getting PG?

2. Are all RE's like this? Indifferent to how you got to 12 months and just want to try an IUI right out of the gate?

3. Are very early m/c's (15 DPO both when i had o'ed late) usually the product of an implantation defect and not symptomatic of a recurrent miscarrier?

4. Do any of you, as DH does, think we should listen to the good doctor (or burned out RE as the case may be) and go ahead with the IUI?

5. Do you think taking clomid or femara would help me ovulate earlier? Or something else?

6. What is the difference between Clomid and Femara? 

7. Didn't you like the days when you played doctor in grade school better? (and i know johnny and I weren't the only ones playing....)

Her name? la petite l'orange

Her name?

la petite l'orange

Her top speed?

I don't know because when I reached 100 mph my managing partner in the passenger seat started getting nervous.  :  )  Stay tuned...

MY MID-CYCLE BREAKDOWN (what it looks like)

I decided on Friday morning that it'd be a lot happier if I drove to work in a convertible instead of my 'sports sedan.'

So, Saturday morning I bought this car. 

I love it. Its impractical, insane, orange for christsakes' and as k says "an overpriced le car."

It is not a baby car. Yes, I have thought of the 'jinx' effect (if this doesn't work getting a divorce, filing bankruptcy and using meth are all next).

I've found that doing domar's and bella's breathing exercises in this puppy...are a lot more fun.

So, if you see a speedy little orange car and hear ben ha.rper blaring know that she's not crazy...... just infertile.

NOTHING IS THIS BAD

Ever had one of those friends who is such a cry baby? A real pansy? I do.

I love her, I do. We've been friends for years. But she is a whiner and I am not. Once, we had traveled to NYC and I swear we'd been there for five seconds walking through SOHO and she wanted to go back to the hotel "because her feet hurt." Who's feet hurt in SOHO? How can you even be aware that you have feet when you're walking around that neighborhood?

She's done that at concerts, museuums, etc. "I'm tired, my side hurts. I can't see the stage, This food is too hot..."  waaaahhh, waaaahhh,waaaahhh. OMG it kills me.One day I am going to tell her that I love her but she needs to shut the h3ll up. So, although, we're great friends, I spend less time with her than I otherwise would because noone likes a pansy.

Here's the thing...in the last few months...I've turned into her. A petulant child. All I do is complain about my life. IF. "I can't get PG, my RE sucks, I probably have endo, I'll never have a baby"...waaaahhhh, waaaahhhh, waaaaahhh. I can't shut the h3ll up. I wail and throw myself around and in general create a huge commotion like an animal with its leg in a trap.

It's awfully annoying...and I can't quite limit the time i spend with myself now can I? So, for the next few weeks, I'm going to make a go of acting like an adult. Realizing that there are good things in my life-k, work, family, my crazy dogs and life in my hometown.

Wish me luck.

ET TU, BRUTUS?

 

Today I ended up at this luncheon seated next to a Georgia Su.preme Court justice. It was a luncheon for women lawyers to chit chat with female judges (justices in this case)....about the law.

But, of course, we initially talked about families and children.

Someone asked someone "did they have any children?" and off we went.

We went around the table and every woman but me said "yes" and then named how many. After each woman named her bounty someone would give her a compliment on one of her offspring's miscellaneous achievement. "Oh, that's great that your daughter is in grad school at Harvard!"

The person seated next to me had six children (I accidentally drank out of her tea....so I hope whatever she has is contagious.).

When it came to me the justice asked "if I had any children?" as the ten other women at the table turned to look and wait for my answer.   

I thought:  No. in fact, I'm sitting here with cramps still from Monday's HSG b/c i can't have a baby for some unknown reason. No, despite what you think, i am not waiting patiently until the perfect time in my career, in fact, i used to give a f*ck about the law before ttc became an all consuming part of my life. In fact, this luncheon was the first time that i hadn't thought of my inability to procreate for more than ten seconds. So. thanks an effin lot. Next, lets ask how many people have lost one or both parents!

I said "no."

MEET CRICKET who's currently fertile

   

Meet cricket.

I brought her home from work (to k's surprise!) last week.

My other dog, Winston, needed a girlfriend. What surly wheaten terrier doesn't?

She is the funniest dog. Ever. She throws all 22 lbs against Winston and bites his ears. She runs circles around him and makes him chase her. When we feed Winston first she stands on her hind legs and barks in protest.

My mother said I have replicated my marriage with my dogs. I think she's right.

Tomorrow she is going to get "fixed." I have to or I have to give her back. I promised and they have my work number.

I'm afraid she won't be as much fun when she's officially infertile.

And making anything unable to reproduce just seems que.er at the moment. 

Maybe cricket and I will drive past the vet, past my work and towards....