Flow finally made an appearance! I haven't been happy to see her in well over a year, so it was a nice change to dance a little instead of lining up shots in her honor. So now it all begins. On days 5-9 of my cycle I take a drug called Clomid which is supposed to stimulate some tubes or something to shoot out a few more eggs. It's all very technical, as you can see. The thing about the Clomid is.... everyone says it makes you crazy. B was very concerned about my signing the release for this medication which I found touching because there are some pretty scary side effects I can potentially develop from it. Of course, this is not the cause for B's concern. B is scared shitless that a) I'm going to turn into a Raving Nutt (shout out to a former student, and YES that was her real name!) and b) that the Clomid is going to turn me into the next Octomom. Which won't be too bad if I get to sit next to Matt Lauer when he interviews me for the Today show!
Let the Crazy Countdown begin!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Flow? Are you there?
Alright. We're ready to go. Let's start this Insemination Party! The first step is to get my period. Only, it's not here. It should have been here. No, I'm not pregnant - three tests made that glaringly clear. So what's the deal? I haven't wanted Old Flow around for a year and a half and NOW she decides to play games? ACRM called to find out when I started so we could start tracking. I'm supposed to start taking Clomid on days 5-9 to sprout some extra eggs, but see, I can't start taking it until I get my period! I've waited too long to sit in a holding pattern right now. People at work are beginning to give me strange looks. Perhaps it's because I keep running to the bathroom to check. Talk about 6th grade flashback! (refer to Ode to Menstruation for more details). Just a few minutes ago my boss made me laugh so hard I felt a little trickle of something down there and got up and ran to the bathroom.
No Flow, just a little pee.
No Flow, just a little pee.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Men: Gotta love 'em
Based on some questions B asked the doctor at our big appointment, I was seriously doubting his understanding of how babies are made. I think his sex ed teacher said the word boobies and B tuned out the rest of the semester. I was getting pretty riled up about it until I went nextdoor, to the home of my little boyfriend. Boyfriend's parents are absolutely hilarious, and they are so reassuring about this whole process because they've been through it. I took my folder of graphs, charts over to them with my list of questions and they took one look at it and laughed. So we were off to a good start. As we were talking I told them my concerns about B's lack of understanding of reproduction and they told me the following fantastic story:
Friends of theirs had just started trying to get pregnant. One night the wife called down from the top of the stairs, "Honey, I'm ovulating!" to which the husband replied, "So we're pregnant?"
or how about this one:
When I heard this, I almost peed myself. A friend of friend has a baby who is over a year old. She had finished her period one morning and her husband propositioned her that evening. She asked, "what are you doing?" and he responded, "trying to get you knocked up."
umm just a little late...
That pretty much put it all into perspective :)
Friends of theirs had just started trying to get pregnant. One night the wife called down from the top of the stairs, "Honey, I'm ovulating!" to which the husband replied, "So we're pregnant?"
or how about this one:
When I heard this, I almost peed myself. A friend of friend has a baby who is over a year old. She had finished her period one morning and her husband propositioned her that evening. She asked, "what are you doing?" and he responded, "trying to get you knocked up."
umm just a little late...
That pretty much put it all into perspective :)
Monday, June 21, 2010
Earth to B
Later in the evening of our first appointment with ACRM, B called me after speaking with a friend of his who recently had twins as a result of IUI treatments.
B: Laura said we should start having sex on the 10th day of your cycle and then every other day afterwards
Me: Are you serious?
B: Yeah, that's what we were doing wrong! (he sounded like he found gold in the backyard, no joke)
Me: No, are you seriously that clueless? What do you think we've been doing for the past 14 months???????? Do you not recall every month when I bring out the calendar and tell you what days to make sure you're not working too late?
B: Oh, that's what you were doing
Me: What did you think? That you won the sex lottery?
B: I chose not to question it.
B: Laura said we should start having sex on the 10th day of your cycle and then every other day afterwards
Me: Are you serious?
B: Yeah, that's what we were doing wrong! (he sounded like he found gold in the backyard, no joke)
Me: No, are you seriously that clueless? What do you think we've been doing for the past 14 months???????? Do you not recall every month when I bring out the calendar and tell you what days to make sure you're not working too late?
B: Oh, that's what you were doing
Me: What did you think? That you won the sex lottery?
B: I chose not to question it.
Friday, June 18, 2010
The Surreal World of Fertilty Treatments
Our test results are in and everything looks good. Yay! But I'm still not pregnant. Boo! We were referred to a fertility specialist, Atlanta Center for Reproductive Medicine (ACRM). This was pretty tough to swallow, but after a good long talk with B, a pep talk with my BFF and three very good and diiirty vodka martinis I was feeling better about the whole situation. After a year of "be patient" and "don't stress" I was anxious for someone to figure out the problem and solve it already.
Our first appointment was literally two days after I called, which was a good thing because I didn't have time to overanalyze all the emotions running rampant inside me. The night before the appointment B and I were filling out the 15 pages of paperwork and we started talking about adoption. If it came to that, where would we shop for a kid? After much debate we decided we'd get a kid from Asia because being Jewish, soy sauce runs in our blood.
We got to our appointment promptly at 8am where we were handed yet another stack of forms to fill out. The office was packed. Every seat was taken with good looking, young couples. I was surprised. I expected a dark, dungeon where they stick all the fertility-challenged folks, but the office was well lit, nicely decorated and every single couple was beautiful. It was like walking into a JCrew catalogue. B and I definitely didn't fit in. Just as I was thinking this, B took the opportunity to point it out by saying quite loudly, "Where are the other ugly couples?" har har. The more women I saw coming in and out of the exam rooms, and filling seats in the waiting room the more comforted I was. I wanted to shout out, "There are others like us! We women can do this together! Your shoes are fabulous!"
Soon we were sitting in the doctor's office looking at various charts and graphs while the Dr went on and on about percentages and other stuff we didn't understand. What I still can't grasp is that I have "unexplained infertility." WTF is that? After all the testing and waiting and researching, the diagnosis is "Beats Me." How do we work with that? We were also told we have a 6% chance of conceiving on our own. B did not believe the Dr and told him so. B then diagnosed us with not having sex every minute of every day and thus not getting pregnant. The Dr explained that every male who comes into the office says the same thing, but that is not the case. B continued to disagree. I guess sometime in the last 8 years we've been together B acquired a medical license without my knowledge. It was embarassing. They finally came to an understanding but I know B still thinks he's right.
We decided to try insemination. This entails my getting bloodwork every week, ultrasounds, taking a medicine that's notorious for making women crazy (because I need anymore of that), and finally another catheter shoved up my hooha full of B's junk. Sign me up!
Our first appointment was literally two days after I called, which was a good thing because I didn't have time to overanalyze all the emotions running rampant inside me. The night before the appointment B and I were filling out the 15 pages of paperwork and we started talking about adoption. If it came to that, where would we shop for a kid? After much debate we decided we'd get a kid from Asia because being Jewish, soy sauce runs in our blood.
We got to our appointment promptly at 8am where we were handed yet another stack of forms to fill out. The office was packed. Every seat was taken with good looking, young couples. I was surprised. I expected a dark, dungeon where they stick all the fertility-challenged folks, but the office was well lit, nicely decorated and every single couple was beautiful. It was like walking into a JCrew catalogue. B and I definitely didn't fit in. Just as I was thinking this, B took the opportunity to point it out by saying quite loudly, "Where are the other ugly couples?" har har. The more women I saw coming in and out of the exam rooms, and filling seats in the waiting room the more comforted I was. I wanted to shout out, "There are others like us! We women can do this together! Your shoes are fabulous!"
Soon we were sitting in the doctor's office looking at various charts and graphs while the Dr went on and on about percentages and other stuff we didn't understand. What I still can't grasp is that I have "unexplained infertility." WTF is that? After all the testing and waiting and researching, the diagnosis is "Beats Me." How do we work with that? We were also told we have a 6% chance of conceiving on our own. B did not believe the Dr and told him so. B then diagnosed us with not having sex every minute of every day and thus not getting pregnant. The Dr explained that every male who comes into the office says the same thing, but that is not the case. B continued to disagree. I guess sometime in the last 8 years we've been together B acquired a medical license without my knowledge. It was embarassing. They finally came to an understanding but I know B still thinks he's right.
We decided to try insemination. This entails my getting bloodwork every week, ultrasounds, taking a medicine that's notorious for making women crazy (because I need anymore of that), and finally another catheter shoved up my hooha full of B's junk. Sign me up!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Branson, MO
This is completely unrelated to my trying to get knocked-up, but I had to share anyway. The other week B was in Branson, MO for his grandfather's WWII ship's reunion (very cool, I know). While the reason for going to Branson was interesting, the location was not. Of all the places to have a reunion, Branson topped the list?
After weeks of endless jokes about Branson, B called to say he arrived at the hotel. Apparently, the hotels in Branson were doing an Around the World theme and each hotel represented a different place. B wanted me to guess which country they were. He said there were animal print chairs in the lobby and the staff was wearing really bright clothing. Without hesitation I guessed, "New Jersey?" He wasn't amused. How was I supposed to come up with Africa? And yes, I realize that neither guess is a an actual country, but shouldn't a state that has given us Jersey Shore AND Atlantic City be expelled?
Ahhh, but the best was yet to come. The next day B called me from a river boat all abuzz with excitement. Imagine my shock that there was something more to be excited about than the all-you-can-eat fritos in the lobby he mentioned every time he called.
B: Oh my gosh, you'll never believe who is on the show boat!!!!
Me: Who?
B: The girl from Undercover Boss! Who needed childcare? Remember her? She carried the big trays of food?
Me: Oh yeah.
B: She's a few rows in front of me!! Can you believe it?
Me: Wow, a celebrity sighting, B. Are you going to ask her for her autograph?
B: Better - I got a picture taken with her! Jealous?
Yes, B. I'm incredibly jealous. Tell me again about the part where you are on a showboat in Branson, MO at 9am?
After weeks of endless jokes about Branson, B called to say he arrived at the hotel. Apparently, the hotels in Branson were doing an Around the World theme and each hotel represented a different place. B wanted me to guess which country they were. He said there were animal print chairs in the lobby and the staff was wearing really bright clothing. Without hesitation I guessed, "New Jersey?" He wasn't amused. How was I supposed to come up with Africa? And yes, I realize that neither guess is a an actual country, but shouldn't a state that has given us Jersey Shore AND Atlantic City be expelled?
Ahhh, but the best was yet to come. The next day B called me from a river boat all abuzz with excitement. Imagine my shock that there was something more to be excited about than the all-you-can-eat fritos in the lobby he mentioned every time he called.
B: Oh my gosh, you'll never believe who is on the show boat!!!!
Me: Who?
B: The girl from Undercover Boss! Who needed childcare? Remember her? She carried the big trays of food?
Me: Oh yeah.
B: She's a few rows in front of me!! Can you believe it?
Me: Wow, a celebrity sighting, B. Are you going to ask her for her autograph?
B: Better - I got a picture taken with her! Jealous?
Yes, B. I'm incredibly jealous. Tell me again about the part where you are on a showboat in Branson, MO at 9am?
Friday, May 7, 2010
Spank It, Baby!
B had his Spank-It test the other day. He was downright giddy that morning because he got to go into work late to choke the chicken. Prior to the test, we had a full house for Sedar, and some of our friends in attendance had done through the same fertility testing. The women cringed at my mention of having the HSG test so there was no need to give them a recap. The men, however, all got that teenage gleam in their eyes when talking about the Hand Jive. Then came the stories...
I have to say, the best parts about this whole conversation is a) that it occured during SEDAR and b)how serious the guys were about making sure B got the the highest possible count. As he drained another glass of wine (what? the haggadah tells us to!), he was reminded to abstain from alcohol, stay away from jaccuzis and not blow the load until after the test. Of course the house was absolutely silent at the precise moment C said, "and you can't use any lube - not even spit!" The look on his pregnant wife's face - priceless.
I was surprised that B's lab didn't go over all of this with him when he made his appointment. By the way, this insurance-covered lab only does this test once a week only in one location within an hour of us. WTF? According to B, the only instruction they gave him (repeatedly) was to make sure he brought in his own material. This sparked an even better round of conversation while refilling wine glasses in the kitchen.
One friend told us that when he got into The Room, the nurse gave him a binder of porn to choose from. He politely thanked her and waited for her to leave. She didn't. As she continued to stand over his shoulder, he tentatively opened the Porn Book and began to flip through the varied selection kept safely in plastic sleeves. He noticed that the nurse wasn't leaving. He also noticed that several plastic sheets held driver's licenses instead of pornos. He looked up at the nurse trying to configure his question, when she instructed him to make his selection and place his driver's license in the sleeve. He'd get it back when he returned the magazine. Really? They have such rampant porn theft that they have to take these measures to avoid replacing $5 copies of Butts n' Boobs? Could you imagine flipping through the pages and seeing, "Oh, Steve's here." "So is John!" Ick.
Another friend told us his room had a big cabinet o' porn. When he opened it he saw stacks of VHS tapes with COPIED porn! Do you all remember how we copied video on the VCR? You had to let the tape play out all the way! Some poor receptionist had to watch many versions of Brazilian Fire Women (actual title).
I was kind of disappointed when B's appointment was uneventful. Aside from being sent to a regular bathroom (so the insurance-covered lab ten minutes away doesn't have one of those?) he did the deed and went to work. Not a bad day.
I have to say, the best parts about this whole conversation is a) that it occured during SEDAR and b)how serious the guys were about making sure B got the the highest possible count. As he drained another glass of wine (what? the haggadah tells us to!), he was reminded to abstain from alcohol, stay away from jaccuzis and not blow the load until after the test. Of course the house was absolutely silent at the precise moment C said, "and you can't use any lube - not even spit!" The look on his pregnant wife's face - priceless.
I was surprised that B's lab didn't go over all of this with him when he made his appointment. By the way, this insurance-covered lab only does this test once a week only in one location within an hour of us. WTF? According to B, the only instruction they gave him (repeatedly) was to make sure he brought in his own material. This sparked an even better round of conversation while refilling wine glasses in the kitchen.
One friend told us that when he got into The Room, the nurse gave him a binder of porn to choose from. He politely thanked her and waited for her to leave. She didn't. As she continued to stand over his shoulder, he tentatively opened the Porn Book and began to flip through the varied selection kept safely in plastic sleeves. He noticed that the nurse wasn't leaving. He also noticed that several plastic sheets held driver's licenses instead of pornos. He looked up at the nurse trying to configure his question, when she instructed him to make his selection and place his driver's license in the sleeve. He'd get it back when he returned the magazine. Really? They have such rampant porn theft that they have to take these measures to avoid replacing $5 copies of Butts n' Boobs? Could you imagine flipping through the pages and seeing, "Oh, Steve's here." "So is John!" Ick.
Another friend told us his room had a big cabinet o' porn. When he opened it he saw stacks of VHS tapes with COPIED porn! Do you all remember how we copied video on the VCR? You had to let the tape play out all the way! Some poor receptionist had to watch many versions of Brazilian Fire Women (actual title).
I was kind of disappointed when B's appointment was uneventful. Aside from being sent to a regular bathroom (so the insurance-covered lab ten minutes away doesn't have one of those?) he did the deed and went to work. Not a bad day.
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