Monday, September 28, 2009
But . . . . nearly 8 weeks of pregnancy has not cured my infertility mental mess. In the course of two and a half years of trying it is inevitable that you will have to deal with people being pregnant or announcing their joyous news while you suffer. Most of the people in my life who have done that don't mean enough to for me to do anything but cry for a day and then ignore them for life. There was one that hit particularly hard. And by hard I mean I tried to be a big girl and take a shower and shake it off. Once I was in the shower the tears started. I got out of the shower but didn't have the will to get dressed, or even put lotion on. I laid in my bed for two days crying randomly, still naked and wishing everytime I feel asleep that I wouldn't wake up again so I could start fresh in a new and better life.
Many months later that devastating news has led to a baby that was born. I've tried to be happy because I knew it was coming. I've bought gifts for the baby and have tried to feel excitement over this. But when the actual birth news came, I was furiously angry. And then deeply sad and desperate feeling. I cried again just like I did when I found out the baby was a possibility. I want to be happy and mature and move on, because hopefully I will be having two beautiful babies of my own in May. But everytime I think of the baby, everytime I ever look at that baby, I think of wishing I was dead. When I look at photos of the sweet, innocent, newborn, all I see is hopelessness. What kind of freak looks at a newborn and thinks of hopelessness?
The kind of freak who had 11 failed treatments. The kind of freak that used to dream of a big family but knows unless they win the lottery it's not an option. The kind of freak that had to choose everyday for the last year what time they would roam the hallways at work so that they wouldn't run into all the pregnant employees in the building. The kind of freak who tried to be positive 29 times and think of names and pick out baby furniture only to feel like a worthless ass at the end. The kind of freak that gets a positive pregnancy test but can only be happy for about 48 hours because after years of joylessness it feels wrong to be totally and completely happy. The kind of freak that stays awake at night worrying more than ever because they finally have something to lose besides sanity and loads of money.
I thought I would be cured. I feel disappointed in myself, but know I can't do anything about it. All I can do is look at my ultrasound pictures and hope that I feel true joy of my own soon.
Countdown: Along with being reproductively challenged, I am mathetically challenged. I realized the 14th of October was 3 weeks from our last ultrasound and promptly booked a new appointment for the 7th! So after a little scare we're back on . . . 1 week and 2 days until I get to see my babies again!
Friday, September 25, 2009
I've seen a blog post or two about how this is another bad example for infertility treatments and it's patients, like us. And it is a bad example of the doctor's who perform these treatments. And it portrays assisted reproductive technologies as some kind of freaky baby making science and it weirds the public in general out.
BUT . . . . it kind of is weird if you think about it. Most people get pregnant from having sex, just like we learned about in health class. That is normal. When I thought I was a normal person, I thought IVF was weird too. But I really wanted a baby and it was my only option, which I'm so glad I did it, so I learned about IVF, went through the stages of grief and went for it. I had to learn about it and become comfortable with it. This is a normal human experience - to be trepidatious about something, learn more about it and accept it.
People are right when they say these stories don't help. I know that telling people about your personal infertility issues is your own choice, but many women don't share this experience. Or they get online and use fake names because they don't want people to know what they're going through. BUT . . . you can't be mad at people for not understanding if normal, everday people who struggle with this hide it and don't share. Like I said, this is a personal choice and do what you must, but don't keep it from everyone and then whine and bitch that no one understands you. You're not helping anyone understand you, so why would they? When I hear and/or read things like "nobody understands," "I feel so alone," and blah blah blah from people who don't help people understand, all I can think is DUH!!! Unless your family and friends are Miss Cleo the psychic in the want ads, why would they support you if they don't know you need it? So as long as the only examples people have in the media is a bunch of freak shows, then that is what they'll think, and you can't complain if you're unwilling to do something to change it. I may feel this way because I am a "do" type person. If I don't like something, I try my best to change it. For example, I don't believe that you deserve to cover your car in pro-life anti-abortion stickers if you're not a foster or adoptive parent. If you're not doing anything to help children who are already alive and suffering from being brought into this world by people who have no right to have children and abuse, neglect, and abandon them, you don't really have the right to stand outside Planned Parent with black tape on your mouth. But that would be too much too ask! It's easy to bitch about something if you don't really have to do anything to change it besides putting guilt trip bumper stickers on your car. I consider this lame, lazy and hypocritical.
Speaking of freak shows, the arch nemesis of infertility poster children, Nadya Suleman. Most of us are extremely angry at her for this sad portrayal of crazy. She is the face of infertility treatments, which is embarassing and furthers the misunderstanding of why people use IVF. Her and Douchebag and Kate plus 8. So, here we are, going through this heartbreaking infertility journey, watching some nut job have 14 children through IVF, and 8 at a time at once. Bad example. We should all learn something from this and be good examples, of normal people who just want to be mommy's and daddy's but have a medical issue, right? WRONG!! I am part of a support community and I will say that there are women on there frequently who are still transferring 3-6 embryos at a time. What the hell? So these women and their doctor's are continuing the freak show practices that lead to freak shows that are embarassing to the rest of us who just want a normal life!!! The same infertiles that we are wanting people to understand are the same people who are doing the same dumb shit to make us all look like crazy people! I don't get it.
In a nice world, no one would go through infertility. This has been the shittiest part of my life. But, I am so grateful to have learned what I have. My husband was on board the whole time and has been (mostly) nothing but amazing. My friends and family have wowed me with their ability to show support. I have met so many other amazing, strong and resilient women who are struggling through this like I am with amazing attitudes who have been such an inspiration to me. I have also felt the sting of being open about our journey through stupid comments and going through treatments that have failed, but having to eventually hold my head up again. I've written my senator and my state representative to try my best to help me and other infertiles out. I have sent letters and emails to friends and family and they have shared in my tears and joys. I am proud to be someone who would NEVER accuse someone of being insensitive and not understanding if I don't take the time to teach someone something they've never had to learn before.
BUT, I've also encountered some freak shows. So lessons of the day are: don't be a freak show and don't whine about shit that you don't take any action to change. It's boring.
COUNTDOWN: 1 week and 5 days until I can make sure my babies are still healthy!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
I'm trying to take this nausea and stomach upset like a man, but it is more intense than I ever could have imagined. I've only missed two hours of work once because of it. I was feeling okay last night and hubby was in class. On our way to Jason's Deli (kids eat free wednesday night by the way), I started feeling terrible. Also, GQ has diarehha of the mouth and NEVER stops talking to a point where he gives me headaches and makes me a little more nauseous. We get there and I tried to eat thinking I had just gone too long but it was bad. I had to put the kids in the car and then sit on the curb to wait for puke. I finally got in the car and then didn't even get a mile before I pulled over because I couldn't drive. I called hubby while in class.
He came storming home. Major incoming shitstorm. I just avoided him for a little bit. He has a full time job, goes to school, and has his own business. This would make anyone crazy with stress, let alone someone with two foster kids and a psychotic wife. He says that he is quitting school and not doing his business anymore. This caused me to bawl so hard, it was worse than a little baby tantrum. I said lots of whiny things like "you're making me feel bad" and "you're mad at me." Inconsolable bawling!!I figured out that he is nervous about twins. Even though I have been freaking out (and still am) about something going wrong, the RE told us we had a 60% chance of having twins with this round, so we had a higher chance than a singleton so I wasn't totally shocked and I was secretly hoping this would be the case. I'm still so excited, but last night when he was having a meltdown and I was blubbering like a baby, he said that in 4 months I won't even be able to walk anyway so he has to be home. Then I really started bawling. I won't even tell you some of the other things I said, too embarassing. Okay maybe one, the one I think everyone thinks about secretly "you won't love me anymore when we have babies." I know, sad and embarassing.
Hubby takes his role as a provider very seriously and I see that he is stressed out. I wish I could do something for him but most days all I do is tolerate my work hours and then come home to lay around like a dead fish. And now for some reason I have costochondritis, where my rib cartiledge on one side is inflamed and it hurts to breath, hiccup, laugh, you name it. The best thing for it is an anti-inflammatory and I can't have that. So more rest it is. Poor guy, I'm so worthless these days. I'll make it up to him someday, most likely by painfully squeezing two children out of my vagina while he watches (although I can't wait for that amazing day).
I remember witnessing my friend and her DH fight in early pregnancy once. I thought it was so hilarious. Her DH kept turning around and saying "are you hearing this? She's insane!" We got to a restaurant and she went to the bathroom and I told him he needs to be nicer to her, although I also told him she was being super annoying. When he went to the bathroom I told her she was a little crazy and she needed to calm down, maybe she needs to take more time to pamper herself. Later we went to get pampered and she freaked out again and I almost had to beat her ass. We can now also laugh about that incident.
Countdown: 1 week and 6 days until the next ultrasound to appease my crazy mind.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Yes, I said babies, plural!! After our IVF Coordinator called to say we couldn't have our appointment tomorrow, we got lucky and got to come in today because I knew I couldn't make it until Thursday. I have been so worried about you, although you've been causing trouble! Just a month ago we saw you when you were little cells, just hoping you would snuggle in for the long haul.
You are the most amazing things I've ever laid my eyes on. Seeing your perfectly shaped sacks, good development, and hearing your loud and strong heart beats was the best thing that's ever happened to me. Of course Daddy saw you as well. No one could wipe the grins off of our faces if they tried.
Here you are Twin A and Twin B:
Everyone was over the moon to hear about you two! Every tear I've cried for the last two and half years has been worth it seeing you today. Every night I have stayed up wondering where you are and everyday that I couldn't get out of bed has been worth the wait. I actually wouldn't trade it for anything because it has made it all the more special that you are here now after all this time and hardship.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Earlier in the week, because I can't grasp the concept that I am actually pregnant, I was convinced I had the flu. I took my temp over and over again, and it remained normal. My allergies were out of control, but I thought it was possible that maybe I had some other disease. I have run to the bathroom over and over again because my cramping has been pretty hardcore. So I dragged myself to the doctor. My blood pressure was higher than normal, but probably because of my panic. I do not have the flu of any sort. Shortness of breath, rapid heart beat, stomach upset, and headaches are all apparently normal in pregnancy. I felt like a jackass, although I could tell the doctor felt sorry for me (she dealt with my infertility depression quite a bit and made a world of difference). I took my check out sheet and left. Reading the sheet was kind if comical as there were three things checked off:
- Anxiety disorder
Quite the combo! I tried to do my best to be calm and relax, but unfortunately I have a job. A job which doesn't particularly excite me these days. I never seem to be able to hire anyone who actually desires to work. They like to get paid, but not necessarily try to impress anyone or go above and beyond. My day can't be stress free ever because I feel like if I don't tell everyone exactly what to do, only the bare minimum gets done. Which means I get extra work. I get to do my job, and their job too. Or I get to worry about what they are lying and scheming about all day. Or they don't even bother to show up to work or show up on time, at the very least. And I work with kids and it's flu season, which is extra awesome, to add to my paranoia.
Out of nervousnes, my pee stick collection has grown quite a bit!! I hope old pee doesn't mold or anything because I am keeping these pee sticks for life! :)
Thursday, September 17, 2009
"Do people at McDonald's have a boss?" says GQ.
"Yes, everyone has a boss, even people at McDonald's," I told him.
"Well I want to work at McDonald's and how will I know who my boss is because everyone wears the same shirt?"
WHAT?? He wants to work at McDonald's? He couldn't say a fireman or a cowboy or a football player like most 5 years olds? An astronaut maybe?
"No, you don't want to work at McDonalds! Only when you're a teenager or maybe while in college."
"Maybe at the gas station then?"
Awesome. This is not exactly a parent's dream. The children I was a nanny for made a very interesting observation regarding gas station employees. We were playing tag in the house when the little boy and I ran into each other and I fell head first into the hardwoods. I asked if I was missing a tooth.
"No, but if you were then you'd have to start working at the gas station!" he replied. Very observant.
We tried our best to convince him of other job possibilities. In the end he came to me and whispered in my ear that really, he would truly like to work at Kasey's Gas Station. On his progress report the only thing he scored low on was recoginizing the sound that went with the letter. I was going to buy flash cards for him this weekend to work on it, but I guess now there's no need. I can't be like a normal parent and say "if you don't get good grades you're going to end up flipping burgers for a living!" because that is already his goal. Sigh . . . .
All jokes aside, being a foster parent has taught me that things parents do to their children that are criminally wrong are not the only type of wrongdoing they're engaging in. My last kids were very paranoid and distrustful of everyone because their parents were conspiracy theorists. Everyone was to blame for their life troubles but them. This obviously made school and peer interaction difficult. Is it a crime to doom your child to failure and a lifetime of bouncing from job to job, mostly likely bottom of the barrel jobs? Nope, not technically. But I can't tell you how sad it is to look into a child's face and know that there is no hope for them because of their parents. I worked with a parent that was just a downright crappy parent and I felt terrible for the sweet little girl. When I tried to express my concerns to this parent, their response was "well, she's alive isn't she? It can't be that bad." Hmm, I didn't know that merely being alive was the standard for a child's wellbeing until now. People say you learn so much as a parent, but I hope I don't learn those types of lessons!
I guess I have a long way to go until I get there. 6 weeks today! I am halfway to the point of being able to breathe a sigh of relief. If you want (and don't do it if you don't want to) you can scroll down to the bottom of the blog to see what my little monkey looks like today!!
I really, REALLY need to go to my ultrasound. Only 6 days to go . . . . .
Monday, September 14, 2009
I'm also not getting any rest now, at 12:47 a.m., but for a most wonderful reason. I had horrendous nausea that turned to gas, and now heartburn. I didn't even need to roll over and read my affirmations because vomit being regurtitated into my mouth is the best sign I can think of! I know strong symptoms aren't a guarantee, but they do ease my mind a bit. TP checks have all been clear. I've also been having some cramping that had me worried and the IVF Coordinator said we could move my ultrasound up to this week if it would make me feel better, although she is sure everything is fine. Hello, of course I would love to get in there and see what's happening ASAP! But I will not let my paranoia overcome what hubby and I have been waiting for for years, which is to see our very first ultrasound for our very first baby together. Together. So with him being out of town, the together part doesn't really work out. Next Wednesday it will be.
Besides my excitement over abdominal discomfort, today Little Bub called me "mama." The mama stuff must have been in the air, because GQ also told me I'm his mommy. Two mamas in one day! I tried not to get too excited when Little Bub did it, because I know those syllables are pretty normal for little guys to test out, but I have been super jealous because he has been saying "dada" to hubby. I absolutely loved being called mama. It's an amazing thing. Because I am Debbie Downer, I also thought of how bad this will hurt when they leave. Part of me hopes it's not for a long time, but then I know that I will only be more in love and it will hurt worse. A big part of me hopes that we will get to keep them, but the chances of that are slim. Too many family members. When we had the teenagers, it was a good experience, but we were very ready for them to leave by the time they did. That made it easier. This one is not going to be easy.
Friday, September 11, 2009
1. Post some affirmations next to my bed. This is something I would normally make fun of someone else for doing, but it does make me feel better actually. It says "I am pregnant," "this is a healthy pregnancy," and "I will have a healthy baby(ies)." Like I said, surprisingly, it's helped.
2. I do not look up ANY symptoms on the internet or in the moron book (aka "What to Expect When You're Expecting"). If I venture past unfortunate news or scary stuff on other blogs or community boards, I just skip it. I hate not taking the time to read and be supportive, but I need to hold onto my sanity.
3. I joined Baby Center's May 2010 Birth Club to be like a normal prego who reads a pregnancy test then starts celebrating. I'll just talk about pregnancy and tests and symptoms like nothing ever happened, right?
If you are an infertile, I wouldn't suggest this until well into your second, if not third trimester. It's not like I haven't been appalled by fertiles for years ("OMG, my kid is so wild, do you want mine?" "Why do you want kids, they're expensive, annoying, a time suck, yada yada," "I'm so tired from being up all night with my newborn, you're lucky you don't have kids" and the list goes on forever). I've read so many lovely things so far. My very favorite is a title of a post all in caps "HATE BEING PREGNANT." It's really nice to read how so many women get pregnant on their first or second time trying, example: "We started trying in July, I didn't know in August it would already be over!" How precious. I thought there was some light at the end of the tunnel when there was a post about how to tell their sister-in-law she is pregnant when she knows her SIL is struggling. It was nice to see someone who cared. It was nice until I read replies like "just tell her, she can't be sheltered from pregnant women and babies forever" and then from the oh-so-sensitive poster herself, "I just decided my husband will tell her. I think I will resent her if I don't get to be excited about my pregnancy plus she is dramatic anyway." Nevermind on that sensitive thing I was speaking of. I won't mention all the interesting circumstances in which some of these women have ended up pregnant, some of whom are in their teens, or were at their first child.
At first, it made me really pissed that many, many women do not understand that this is an amazing miracle and they should be grateful for every moment. Some of us fight and fight and fight to get here. And some fight and fight and fight and never get here, but would do anything in the world to have their head in the toilet with morning sickness or have the luxury of feeling disappointed that their 2nd, 3rd, 4th baby was a boy and not a girl. It seriously pisses me off.
But then I felt, for the first time, lucky. Lucky that my pregnancy is a miracle. Lucky that I will never take for granted a single second of this experience, including barfing. Lucky that each moment with my future child will be all the more special because it didn't come easily. Lucky that my husband and I have bonded even more than we already were going through this together and that I know he will be the best Daddy on the planet. Lucky that I got to find out how much my family and friends are behind me. And seriously lucky to have ever seen those two pink lines.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
My last night of progesterone injections was Sunday. My progesterone levels were good today, but I was paranoid this morning. We all got ready and made our stops at school and daycare then I headed in for my beta at the usual time, 8:15. I went about my work business then pulled up my email at 11:15 (the usual time I receive results) and waited for a new email.
Went about some more business.
Nothing came still.
Hubby called once and my mom called twice in that time. I started to panic. I thought maybe it was bad news and she didn't want to tell me. Maybe it was so bewildering that they sent it back to the lab for a redo (is that possible?). I felt panic coming on. Finally at 2:15 I could not take it anymore and I called in. The IVF Coordinator said she was at a meeting and knew I was worried, but then she told me our wonderful and high number. Whew! I apologized for being annoying and made many phone calls and went about my day.
The first ultrasound is in two weeks from tomorrow, when I am 7 weeks along. I can't wait. I took the earliest appointment I could get. I need to find a hobby. Remember when I posted about how much I loved anesthesia? I wish I could be on that good stuff for the next two weeks. I'd even settle for a valium a few times a day. Patience in not a virtue I possess.
I'm going to have to rant about something quickly that may be offensive, but it does bother me. Many times since I have been on support boards of various types, there have been women who have said that they cannot afford Clomid or something of that sort without insurance. It is $65.00. At first I was like "yeah, that sucks" because I paid for it for 8 months out of pocket and it was a waste for me. But then I was thinking, now that I have an 18 month old in the house, if you don't have a spare $65.00, you cannot afford a child! When people say "if you can't afford treatments, you shouldn't have kids" I get really pissed because who actually has $12,000 laying around for IVF, or really even an extra $2,000 a month for an IUI and injectible cycle not covered by insurance?? Probably not many people. But $65? That is a real concern for me the more I think about it. A box of diapers that I bought last night was $20.00. For one box. When I had teenagers, I went to sign one up for summer school. Foster parents get a really cheap rate of only $45.00. The other foster parent standing next to me did not even have that, and I thought it was crazy! Also when I had teenagers, they ate an average of $250.00 a week in food between the three of them. I was not prepared for that! They were like locusts, consuming the kitchen.
I know that this sounds kinda bitchy, but I think people really need to plan ahead for having children. I know that I am lucky to have a job and lucky that I have extra money to use. But it's really not luck. I don't make very much money and have the mother load of student loans, but I budget. Anyway, now that I have seen it a few times and again today, I had to let it out somewhere. I would only say something kind to a person's face about this because it is unneccesary to lecture or make someone feel bad about money issues, but this is my space, and I'll say what I want here damn it!
This is what will happen with my idle mind for the next two weeks, waiting for the big day!
And probably checking 12 million more sheets of tp.
Monday, September 7, 2009
For the most part I had a good time, especially looking at hubby beaming with joy because he now has a pregnant wife. But I have to admit it was a little awkward. I have done a lot of bed time in the last few weeks and the walking was killing me, but I didn't want to be a whiner. As everyone is offering congratulations, I don't want them to know that I am now the Queen of Paranoia. I made jokes about how Mike wants one boy but I told him it will be twin girls. Everyone made fun of me for keeping my pee sticks (which I will part with over my dead body). But I am still scared shitless, which I feel very ungrateful about.
The other thing is hubby's sister (sorry if you're reading this). I think I will feel awkward for a really long time, even though I've done a lot of work and it's time to move on. Part of it is sadness, because hearing the news of her pregnancy, combined with IUI #3 negative, was the catalyst that sent me into a depression I've never known before. I was in bed for days and the only reason I got out was to go to work. I didn't do anything for months. It was so heartbreaking and it hit home way more than any other pregnancy news had in the last few years. It was also the first time that I saw that hubby was visibly down about things. I felt, and still feel, guilty that we, as her family, were unable to be happy for her. Not only could we not be happy for her, but we flat out couldn't even be around her. I feel so bad that because of my issues hubby couldn't celebrate being an uncle for the first time because we were devastated that he isn't a dad. Her own family couldn't be there for her in a really exciting time. I wouldn't take it back because I needed to stay away from her, but I still feel some guilt everytime I see her. With all the lingering sadness, guilt, anger and jealousy, it is hard for things to be normal. Maybe someday.
Hubby's friends and family have been the bane of my existence the last few years. It's like they all decided to reproduce, at once, and it had to get rubbed in my face over and over. After we got our second beta, he told me about all kinds of people who are pregnant or even had a baby that I never knew about because he didn't want to tell me. That's just one reason out of a million why I love him so much.
So last night we get home to do our very last butt shot. It turned out to be a bleeder of epic proportions. Hubby stuck a piece of tp on it and then went to do homework. I fell asleep without thinking about the paper.
I, of course, could not resist a funnel cake. How could anyone? I only ate half, but the heartburn and nausea were absolutely ridiculous. I woke up at about 2:00 a.m. to pee and sit up. Then on the piece of tp lying on the toilet seat was tons of blood. My heart stopped. I was about to scream but I couldn't because I wasn't breathing. I wiped with a piece and there was nothing on it.
Then I remembered. The bloody butt shot. The piece of tp that was helping out with the bleeder had fallen off onto the toilet seat. I started to breathe again. I sat down because I was dizzy. To my surprise, I laughed hysterically. I have never had a loss, so I'm not sure why this anxiety has settled in. I couldn't help but laugh at myself for being such a psycho over some butt blood. Stupid bloody butt shot.
It's not funny though. I'm crazy. Tomorrow is beta #3 which I hope will allow for a little more piece of mind.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
I work at a place where for some reason people are constantly pregnant. The entirety of my employment has been hell due to the ridiculous amount of bellies I have to stare at on a regular basis. I thought I overheard someone talking about yet another prego and so I had so ask if I heard correctly. My coworker said yes, and then I had to roll eyes and sigh as usual. She said "you are one of the pregos now," like everything is just dandy and even.
But not really. Of course, I was overjoyed seeing the first two lines I ever saw and getting my first beta back. But it's just not the same. And I don't really feel comfortable using the "p" word yet. I've never been fertile so I'm not sure what it's like, but from the last few years of comments I've received and heard and reading "What to Expect When You're Expecting," it appears to be vastly different. Here were my favorite questions asked in this glorious novel:
"My sister-in-law smoked two packs a day through three pregnancies, and had no complications and big healthy babies. Why should I quit?"
Makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, doesn't it? Especially if you are an infertile reading this, that we've had diet, lifestyle, and all types of other restrictions just to get pregnant and this bitch is worried about getting her two packs a day.
"I'm afraid I'm going to get stretch marks. Can they be prevented?"
Really? You needed to write a doctor about your overwhelming fear of stretch marks? I can't wait for stretch marks, that would mean that I made it far enough to be stretching.
"Now that it's obvious I'm expecting everyone- from my mother-in-law to strangers on the elevator - has advice for me. It drives me crazy."
Boo hoo. Try two and a half years of people telling you to "just relax" or put a pillow under your butt.
I won't even go into the many other pearls of wisdom I read about. Some were just so ridiculous I couldn't believe it. Again, I have the fear of if this is even real and also the continuing fear of what will happen to my mind.
When someone told me that now my biggest worry will be if it's a boy or a girl, I thought "do people really worry about that?" I think if I have to worry about continued blood testing and risks and so forth, genitalia is not really on my list of worries. I'm only 4 weeks and 3 days pregnant, so it's understandable, but I still feel as though I have nothing in common with fertiles. I hope and hope and hope that this will all work out. But the only way I feel like I will ever be a normal prego is if someone creates a times machine and we can go back to one of two options:
A: When I get off of birth control pills I am like a normal fertile person and I get pregnant in less than a year. I will be able to celebrate and live blissfully ingnorant of the pain of infertility. I will go gabbing to all my girlfriends about it and feel perfectly comfortable with the whole thing and not have to be jealous and sick to my stomach everytime someone else experience's what I had hoped to long before them.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
I work with children at my job which means I deal with parents. I hate parents. Everyday that I work with the parents, it makes me wonder why I want to be one. They're fucking idiots. Most conversations I have with them it takes every bit of energy in my body not to tell them to go run in traffic on the freeway. Of course there are parents that I love. I love to chat with them, I love their personalities, I love their kids and think they're great. But that is rare. Very rare. I can count those parents on two hands and I have about 80 kids in the day. I do have pretty good staff and a great boss. I don't know how she deals with these fuckers for all these years. I would ask her to teach me, but that would require changing my DNA.
This is going to be tough. I'm going to say a little prayer:
Please, please, PLEASE let me keep my baby and have a good beta tomorrow to keep me going. I really want to hold this baby in my arms. Keep that in mind. I would appreciate it.
If you are so wonderful as to let me keep this baby forever, please make sure that when I give birth half my brain doesn't come out and I become a stupid fucking moron with no sense. I pray extra hard for my baby, for my infertile friends, and for my sense. It's a little greedy, I know, but I'll take whatver I can get.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
My beta today, 8 days past our 5 day transfer (8dp5dt) is 168!! That is an amazing number, as we needed it to be 50 or higher today. I can't believe I'm pregnant! I'm in so much shock.
We had a wonderful time calling, texting and emailing everyone we know. Waiting until we successfully pass our first trimester would be silly since everyone knows what is going on with us (I have no shame).
I did cheat and pee on a stick Sunday night. I was absolutely positive that this was a failure. My plan was to see the one line and then move on after all the crying I did over the weekend. At first, there was only one like. I was like "goddamit, mother fucker, I just wasted $12,000.00 and have to do this shit again!" Then I washed my hands and was about to run down the stairs to read GQ his night night story. To my shock, there were two lines! You have to understand I have never seen this before, in all of the 29 previous tries, and I have peed on a lot of sticks in the last few years. I was screaming "there's two, there's two!" Little nosy knob GQ yelled up the stairs "two of what? what are you doing up there?" I ran into the office to show hubby. I asked hi 20 times if he saw it or if I was imagining it. It was amazing. I'm so glad I did that, because I usually don't. We got to have a normal moment, like a normal couple, who just pee on a stick and then are happy.
But it's not totally normal. I go back for two more betas. I am keeping my fingers crossed and my hopes up (for once) that the betas will be great and we'll get to see an ultrasound soon.
This is crazy . . . .