I'm Moving to an Undisclosed Location

Due to ongoing family drama issues, this forum is no longer a safe place for me to write my honest feelings anonymously. This is mostly because I stupidly trusted someone who has proven themselves untrustworthy many times. So, because RL people are now reading and commenting IRL about this, I'm moving. If you would like the new site, please PM me (arminta dot ward at gmail dot com, only with the characters in place of the dot and at) and I will gladly send it to you. I hope to keep my IF friends and ditch the RL drama.

Since this is the last post where RL people will be reading, I'd like to address a few things with you.

- I don't have the energy for the bullshit anymore. I don't have the energy to ignore and keep the peace. I'm having a hard enough time putting one foot in front of the other, getting out of bed and showing up to work. Thank you so much for making it even harder. That said, I'm no longer holding back, you don't want to know what I'm thinking, don't ask (reading this blog is the equivalent of asking). You don't want my opinions on things that happen in MY HOUSE, don't come over.

- My baby just died. If I can't look you in the eye without crying, that's me. If I can't deal with people being around, that's me. If you want to take it personally and get the ass, fuck you. I don't need non-supportive people in my life right now. Also for the record... I'm NOT OK. Don't ask me if I'm OK, because I'm not, and I don't know that I ever will be again. You can ask how I am, or how today's going, but if you ask if I'm OK, I'm going to lose it.

- I have wanted a baby since I was four years old. I have been actively trying to have a baby for almost six years. I have had five miscarriages. It's hard for me to see people piss away everything I've ever wanted for their own selfishness. You may not think you are, but you are. And it's not just you, there lots and lots of these situations big and small in my life. I can't deal with it. That's my problem. I do really appreciate your turning it all around and finding another way to be selfish, though.

- You have never been in my shoes. You don't even have an inkling of what I'm going through. So don't presume to tell me how I should or should not feel. Don't think that you understand or that you know your stuff is more important. You don't know. I feel how I feel, and that very likely isn't going to change. If you want to be helpful, some support and love would go a lot further than telling me how I should feel and what I should do. I know how I should feel, but I don't and I can't change that.

- On top of everything else, I wake up feeling like I've been in a car accident EVERY morning. I'm in pain, a lot. Usually, that makes me pretty grumpy and compounds everything else. I think I have a little bit of a right to be pissed off about my lot in life. If don't agree, that's fine, but keep it to yourself. Frankly, I'm furious about the shit I have to deal with and I'm sick to death of it.

If you're an IF friend and you made this far, sorry. But again, if want to follow me (I'll still be following you), PM me.

Everything's Fine

At lunch with G I heard one of my old favorite songs from college and it really hit with how I'm feeling right now. Not literally, of course I am eating and bathing, but emotionally. The song is Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham.

I'm hungry
I'm dirty
I'm losing my mind
Everything's fine

I'm freezing
I'm starving
I'm bleeding death
Everything's fine

Yeah, Im working, making money
I'm just starting to build a name
I can feel it around the corner
I could make it any day

Mother mother can you hear me
yeah I'm sober
sure I'm sane
Life is perfect never better
still your daughter
still the same

If I tell you what you want to hear
will it help you to sleep wellat night
Are you sure that Im your perfect dear
now just cuddle up and sleep tight

Hot n Cold

That's me! Figuratively and literally.

I'm OK, then I'm not.

I'm freezing, then I'm sweating.

I had a complete breakdown watching the Tony's last night. But for real, the Tony's! Why?

Well, at the beginning of our fateful bad ultrasound, G asked the vampire, I mean nurses assistant, what to expect. She said moving arms and legs and he made a joke about the baby doing jazz hands at us. So, yes, the Tony's sent me into near hysterics.

When does this pass? When will I be able to breathe again without feeling empty?

When will I be able to envision the future without the shoulda beens? For example... a friend let me know about a fabulous deal on airfare to Hawaii in October. I can't even imagine it, because I shoulda been 7 months pregnant in October. October isn't even here, yet, but to me it's past tense. Will it always be that way? Will I always put life into the perspective of my Blueberry Bean?

In other news... It's been 3 weeks since the D&C and 6 weeks since the baby died and I still haven't had a period. I'm starting to get a little worried about when I'm going to get back to normal. I think maybe if I have a bleed I can feel like it's really over, but as it stands I still feel in limbo. Obviously, it's over. Surgery finalized that. But, my boobs are still sore, I'm still peeing all the dang time and I haven't bled, yet, so while the big things are gone (nausea, overwhelming and constant exhaustion) I still feel a little pregnant. Maybe that's why I can't let go?

Things I'm Digging Right Now

Short listy kind of post...

1) Alcohol
2) Wii Fit
3) Summer heat
4) All things Twilight
5) Saying NO to stress and obligation

Heart Breaking All Over Again

Tomorrow was supposed to be the official end to my first trimester. It was supposed to be the day that the weight slid off and I could finally enjoy my pregnancy. But instead it will just be the day that I mourn what could have been. Wait, that's not really different from any other day... Fuck!

I do have a consultation with the sleep study doc tomorrow. So, there's that. I'll have a c-pap soon. That'll be lots of fun to get used to. Maybe he'll throw in a mouthpiece for good measure so I stop grinding my teeth into powder at night.

For some reason, I grind worse when Big C stays over. I think it's because he grinds too, and the sound of his grinding triggers more grinding on my end. Who knows?

Also, for some strange reason I felt the need to get my Femara prescription filled, so I guess I do have another try left in me. Now all I've got to do is get the pig nose, more Ovidrel, all of the insulin drugs and some sanity and we'll be all set.

New Look

For techie person by profession, I'm not so good with the webby stuff. HTML was just never my thing, but luckily there are people out there who rock at HTML and make cute layouts for the rest of us. I'm pretty pleased with the new look, what do you guys think?

I'm Considering Myself Tagged

So, Bunny over at bugaboo envy has tagged everyone that reads her for the 8x8 meme, and I'm somebody that reads her. Basically, I'm guessing ya'll are getting tired of my self indulgent misery posts, so here's a change of pace post.

The rules of the 8x8:
1) Name the person who tagged you: Bunny
2) Complete the list
3) Tag 8 more people

8 things I'm looking forward to:
1) The new Harry Potter movie
2) The new Twilight movie (OK, this is getting pathetic, all I'm looking forward to are movies)
3) Eventually one day maybe being a mother (it's less certain than the movies...)
4) The summer
5) My big project at work being over
6) Writing more this summer
7) Swimming
8) Vacation

8 things I did yesterday:
1) Wii Fit (for 48 "fit credits" woot woot!)
2) Worked in my garden
3) Bought a magazine
4) Cried
5) Gave Mary her cup back
6) Picked peonies
7) Cleaned
8) Laundry

8 things I wish I could do:
1) Get pregnant without the intervention of a small army of medical professionals
2) Stay pregnant (with or without the intervention of a small army of medical professionals)
3) Speak a foreign language fluently
4) Grow more veggies
5) Be less judgemental and bitter
6) Be a better friend
7) Have more friends (probably would be easier if I were a better friend)
8) Be healthy

8 favorite fruits:
1) Plum
2) Pear
3) Blueberry
4) Apple
5) Strawberry
6) Banana
7) Watermelon
8) Grape

8 shows I watch:
1) 24
2) Good Eats
***OK, I usually watch movies... so the rest are either old shows I watch re-runs of, or shows that G watches and I read or blog through, but they get into my head because I'm in the same room when they're on...***
3) The Sopranos
4) Weeds
5) Flight of the Concords
6) Charm School
7) The survival one with Bear Grylls (no idea what it's called)
8) The one on Spike where they match up different fighters from different times to see who would win (no idea what it's called)

8 places I'd like to visit:
1) Maine
2) Michigan
3) Ireland
4) Italy
5) Scotland/Wales
6) Key West
7) Bora Bora/Moorea
8) Hawaii

8 places I have lived:
** This ones hard because I haven't lived that many places **
1) The ghetto in Dayton, OH
2) The hood in Dayton, OH
3) Less of the hood in Dayton, OH
4) Trotwood, OH
5) Riverside, OH
6) Harrison Twp, OH
7) Columbus, OH
8) ??? I guess we'll have to see what the future has in store...

8 things I love:
1) My hubs - G is the best of the best
2) My nephews - They keep me going when times are tough
3) My dogs - They keep me going in a different way from the boys
4) My friends - They keep me grounded
5) Writing - Keeps me from losing it
6) Cooking - Keeps me sane
7) Reading - Helps me escape
8) Photography/Scrapbooking - Helps me remember the good when all I can think of is the bad

I am not going to tag specific people, because I just don't like to do that. So, if you're reading this, you're tagged. Feel free to do or not, whatever floats your boat.

WTF Meeting Results

So, today, I thought I was going up into the stirrups and being checked for physical healing, but no. It was the WTF meeting. I'm kind of glad that I'm seeing more of Dr G right now, he's a lot more comforting than Dr Wonderful. Dr W is great getting down to business and making action plans, but Dr G is better at the comforting.

So, Dr G asked about pain and if I could pee etc... and declared me fit to resume normal activity (the hubs will be delighted). He then moved straight to the what happened and where do we go from here. There was an annoying intern in the room who was bouncing his knees like crazy, but whatever. I managed to tune him out. So, I supposed you want to know the verdict...

What Happened: Baby was fine, no apparent structural abnormalities. We did not allow any testing on the baby, so no way to tell if there were chromosomal abnormalities, but probably not. So, because of this and the fact that it looked more like the placenta detached or broke away he's leaning more toward believing it was in fact my body that rejected the baby, and not a problem with the baby. So, which problem with my body? Well... not the auto-immune. He thinks we controlled that as well as possible. To my swollen knuckles, hip and sternum he says (and I quote) "That's normal... about 1/3 of women with RA get better, 1/3 get worse, like you, and the rest don't change. It doesn't really affect the outcome of the pregnancy." But for real?!?! OK, then what happened? Insulin.

Now, before I go further, I do have hyperinsulemia. My blood had like 3x the highest "normal" amount in my last test and I take med's to regulate it. It's like reverse diabetes. Also, my Dr is Jeremy Groll author of the book Fertility Foods which I understand is popular amongst the PCOS* having community, because insulin and PCOS are his specialty and he's really good at getting women with PCOS knocked up. So, I knew he was going to say we have to get a better grip on the insulin. I didn't expect him to name it as the CoD.

Where was I, yes, Insulin (which is the devil). So, he feels that 1) my insulin reducing drugs aren't helping enough. He upped the dose of one and added another and then stated that he hated to just pile on drugs when there were better ways of controlling the insulin, especially when it doesn't look like the drugs are helping much. Huh? Well, despite following his diet plan and exercising (Wii Fit is AWESOME) and walking, I'm not losing weight. He thinks I should be losing weight and the fact that I'm not means dunh, dunh, dunh the insulin is preventing it.

Where do we go from here: We have to further reduce the insulin. For this we have three approaches:

1) More drugs: Not favorable, but doing anyway
2) Sleep Apnea study and wear c-pap: Doing, and glad to be doing, I've been concerned about this for a while
3) Roux en Y bariatric surgery: Have to wait a year before resuming fertility, has the biggest chance of impacting the insulin from the source, G will not approve

So, he says sleep apnea causes an insulin cycle, because every time you suffocate your body produces insulin to be able to fight and more insulin causes more soft tissue, which worsens the apnea which causes more insulin. So, c-pap is job #1. Plus, he thinks it will help with feeling tired all the dang time.

I've looked into Bariatric Surgery before. About 10 years ago. My family doctor told G a horror story about a patient of hers that got BS in the 80's and now lived in a nursing home being feed via IV because her body was unable to process food through her GI tract. Nice... G is 100% ANTI BS, now. I'm a little more apt to give it a try. For one, if the insurance will cover it, it seems like a good way to physically jump start weight loss, which will have the natural effect of reducing insulin. But Dr G says it goes beyond that. He says the surgery itself physically alters the way the body signals the need for insulin, so before the weight loss even begins, the insulin reduction has already started. He is VERY PRO BS. Of course the downside is that is it a MAJOR surgery, it takes months to recover and a year to stabilize. Not only that, things change very quickly and it can be emotionally grueling.

There you have it, insulin = bad. Wait, didn't we already know that?


*PCOS: Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome... aka The Devil

Feeling Title-less and Confused

So, today I'm feeling almost human and I realize the angry rants of the past few days must have been quite boring to anyone other than myself. I'm still angry. I'm still questioning my faith. But, I'm more functional, anyway. I've also realized that ranting about specific people has really been my way of ignoring my deepest pain and just focusing on the surface. At the end of the day, sure I'm pissed about those people, but mostly I'm just pissed about my baby.

I suppose this miscarriage is harder for me because I had time to get attached to the baby, we referred to it by a nickname (Blueberry Bean) and heard the heartbeat. Even though I never saw his (G only referred to BB as "he", "she" wasn't an option) face, or counted his toes, he was my baby. I loved him. I love him still.

But I'm starting to realize that I can't go through the rest of my life so mad that I can't function. I don't see an end to the pain, but I have to believe that it's there.

As I've mentioned before, I feel at a crossroads, I feel torn between scrapping this life and starting a new, and picking up the pieces to move on. I've been trying to get G to move to Alaska, or Florida or Italy. Just pick up and go. He was humoring me for a while. But, last night he decided it was time to be more realistic. Obviously, we can't just pick up and leave. We own a house, two dogs and a very heavy bed that we're unwilling to part with. He also reminded me that we do have more options than just run away or hop back into the stirrups.

So that said, we will probably take the summer to decide a reasonable course of action. At least I can drink :)

I want to explode

Yeah, so the pissed, cold and bitter, not really going away. As a matter of fact, they are getting much, much worse. I am seriously having to practice massive amounts of self control to not tear certain people (i.e. MIL and sister) into the millions of pieces that I feel like I've been torn into. I want to hurt them. I want to tell them how terrible they've been, how selfish they are. I want to tell them that I hate them.My sister has informed me that my health and infertility issues are karma's way of punishing me for expressing my views of her lifestyle. I'm pretty sure that SHE is my punishment for everything bad I've ever done or will do in the future. I'm not sure what it is that I plan to do that was bad enough to get strapped with her and G's mom. I must be getting ready to go on a killing spree, or something.Here, I thought when most people were going through the darkest times of their lives, that their families were supposed to be supportive and loving. I think we're going to add a check to the pro column under "run away."

Back to Work

So, I'm back at work today. I really don't know how I'm going to do this all day everyday. I can't concentrate. I don't care about any of my projects. I'm having a really hard time not breaking down on the phone with clients. The thought of having to do it again tomorrow sending me into even more panic. Needless to say, it's a bad day. At least my boss is being kind and my friend P is in the office today.

So I feel like I'm at a cross road. Like however I proceed from here will set the tone for the next decade. I'm sure that this has a lot to do with the impending 30th birthday, by which I will not be a mother. I'm missing a major life goal I had set for myself. I wanted to be done having children by 30. Now, I won't even have started by 30. Maybe it'll never happen. How much time, energy and money should I devote to this potentially fruitless pursuit?

I'm feeling very torn. Part of me wants to focus on health and finances and immediately start trying again when the RE says it's OK. But another part of me wants to say "fuck it" and run away. Neither side is winning. It's a complete stalemate. I could be reckless and irresponsible and just leave. It's not like G's job is all of that great and if we're running away and not pursuing fertility treatments and security for a future family, I could be just as happy cooking and making 1/2 as much money. Happier, actually...

One the other hand... I can't picture a life without children and family and the way I always pictured it. Giving up just feels wrong, but moving forward feels too hard.

It would be so much easier with a stronger support system, but in a lot of ways it's just me and G.

Somebody's Crazy

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Losing My Religion

Right, so I'm still a mess. Not in the can't stop crying and wish I had died, too, kind of way, but a mess all the same. I'm bitter and cold and pissed. I'm just pissed. How could this happen to us? Again? Seriously. I keep thinking of all the things I could have done differently over my way too short pregnancy and of course there are more than a few, but come on! My sister drank alcohol and smoked cigarettes and pot while she was pregnant and both unplanned boys are here. Yet, my baby is dead.

I guess, I'm pissed at my body, sure. Who wouldn't be. The damn thing's broken and its broken-ness is killing my children, which hurts me, hurts G, hurts everyone. And to top it all off, there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. Of course, I keep hearing all about how people are "praying" for me and how "it will happen in His time" and my all time favorite, for some reason people keep thinking it's appropriate to quote Jer 29:11 to me all the time. For those not in the know, here is the text of Jer 29:11:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Before I go forward, I should tell you. Until May 15, 2009, I wasn't a very religious person. But I was a person of faith. I do believe that there is a God and I do believe that Jesus Christ is his son and was sent to the world to provide payment for sin and a path to heaven. I still believe that. I also used to believe that God gave a rat's ass about what happened in his people's lives and that he genuinely desired that we be happy etc... Which, I now believe is bullshit. And not just any bullshit, the kind of bullshit hopeless people make up because it helps them feel less hopeless.

I have come to the conclusion that God does not care. At the very least, he does not care about me. If he did, my life would be very different. I wouldn't be in agony every other month thinking I had cancer, or even worse having had another miscarriage. It wouldn't take months and years of temping and drugs and weekly wandings by the dildo cam just to get pregnant, only to have it snatched away when things look the best. I wouldn't be so depressed that just being in the same room with me upsets my husband. I wouldn't be in constant pain, every minute of everyday. I'm not asking for much here. I'm not asking to be thin, or beautiful, or rich, or super smart. I'm not asking for perfect health, or to be blessed into bliss for no reason other than I'm alive. I'm not asking for anything special. Nothing above and beyond the normal human experience. All I want is to not hurt all day everyday and to be able to have children. That's all. I'm not offering nothing in exchange, either. I've been a pray-er and a tither and a volunteer. I've walked the walk. Maybe not as well as some, but I'm not a drug addicted, single, poor pagan/atheist/satanist, either (FYI, I do know a mother who fits the preceding description, which really, really, adds to the bitterness).

I do not believe that God has given these curses to me. I don't believe they are the result of something I've done wrong. I just don't think he cares. I think I got the short end of the genetic stick and God doesn't care. He's not waiting for some magic time to heal me. I am not going to wake up free of pain one day. He doesn't have some plan for my happiness that begins at some predetermined point in the future. I am no more to him than an ant to a human.

He has no plans for me. He does not care if I prosper or am harmed. I have no hope and no future.

It was a week ago today that we found out the baby was dead. A lot can change in a week. Right now we should be 11 weeks. The baby should be the size of a lime. We should be happy. But instead my baby is dead. It's body is at a lab somewhere so "they" can determine if there's anything to change for "next time."

I don't even know if there's going to be a next time. I can't fathom the thought of going through life empty and alone like this. I can't imagine not being a mother. But, honestly, I don't think I can survive this again. I'm not sure how I'll survive this time. Putting one foot in front of the other takes too much effort right now. Speaking to anyone other than my mom or G is difficult. So, why would I volunteer for this again.

And why the fuck did my team let me get so damn hopeful. I was scared when the baby was small for age, but "it's OK, not all babies measure spot on" or "we just got your ov date off a little, everything looks great" or "perfect heartbeat." If everything was so goddamned perfect why the fuck is my baby dead?!?!? Wouldn't it have been easier to say "Well, I'm a little concerned about the size" if for no other reason than to manage my expectations?

I can't do this. I can't. I'm hyperventilating just thinking about having to go back to work on Tuesday. This is fair, it isn't right and I can't do it.

Random thoughts of the bereaved

This is so unfair. I don't know what I did to make God hate me so badly, but whatever it was this shitstorm of a life is NOT a fair trade. I just wish I could be numb and not have to feel this all of the time. But even vicodin and vodka have no effect on the black whole in my chest.

I can't do it, I'm not strong enough and it's no fucking fair.

Unfortunately, I'm not given a choice. I have to deal with it. At least we were already scheduled for vacation this week, so I'm not having to deal with work, too. Work has been very understanding. My friend P has taken care of letting everyone know and has been very sweet about seeing do I need anything. It is appreciated.

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Big C on the other hand, not too small to care. Too small to careabout my feelings, but big enough to care at least. He wants to know where the baby is, how did it get there, are we sure it's not just sleeping. Why did I tell him? Why should he have to be burdened with this too? He was really looking forward to having another baby. One that wouldn't be an off limits source of competition, but one that would be an equal and available source of love.

OK, I have to stop, I could ramble on this way all day, but seeings how this is already more of a journal entry than blog and long enough to be boring, I'll stop.

Ugh

OK, so I'm too lazy to think of a title and that's how I feel today, so title it is. Feel free to skip if you don't wish to read a lot of self loathing misery.

I'm just feeling so much and so little and I can't make it an hour without crying. Some of G's family stopped by today (which was a very nice gesture), but it took a lot out of me to put on my happy face for so long. So, now I'm drained. I really just want to down a handful of vicodin and not have to think for a while (not a suicidal level, just a dreamless sleep level.)

I'm stupidly afraid to actually take anything because "what if." You know, what if the doctor was wrong. What if the placenta has magically reattached and the baby's heart magically started beating again. It's ridiculous. I saw the still heart with my own eyes, I saw the separation of the placenta with my own eyes. My baby is dead. But why?

I'll tell you why. My body is fucked up. My body gets even more fucked up when I'm stressed and my fucking MIL likes to cause stress. So, she got what she wanted. Fucking bitch. I really hate her. She hasn't called at all, either. I don't even know if she knows. She isn't the only stress, though, I've got other family issues that take their toll on me, too. Plus, I don't exactly have a low stress job. So, I guess I'm just screwed.

Why do I even keep trying and putting myself through this shit? I don't know. I don't think I can do it again. People keep saying "Well, you can always try again" but holy shit how many babies can you lose before it's too much? I think might be my limit. We'll have to see. G does really want to try again. But, he doesn't have to walk around with a dead baby in his body when it all goes bad, as it always does. I don't know. I need to give myself a couple of months before making any decisions.

Anyway, enough of that, nobody wants to read about someone else's misery. But apparently, they do want to call and ask if your still miserable. Which is really starting to piss me off. I know these people think they're "helping" but short of super-Jesus miracle power, there isn't anything anyone can do to actually help. I do appreciate the e-mails and offers of support, it's over and over again phone calls that are getting to me.

OK, done, rant over.

The Even More Unexpected

Well, today's ultrasound did not go well at all. The heartbeat has stopped and it looks like the baby stopped developing around last Monday. So, I have a "confirmation scan" scheduled for Monday and a D&C scheduled for Wednesday.

I should have more to say, but I'm pretty drained.

The Unexpected

So, I knew things were going to change with pregnancy. I knew things were going to change day by day. I expected some exhaustion, some nausea, some grouchy... all par for the course stuff people tell you about.

Some things have been shocking, though!

#1 The gassy... I'm not just talking a couple toots after chili here. I'm talking burping/farting/gurgling all freaking day. Regardless of what's ingested. The gassy, for realz. maybe it's just me, IDK, but I could power a small town with methane these days.

#2 The crampy... Here I thought something was just wrong, but no. Very normal, I'm hearing. The cramping comes and goes and I feel like AF is coming a couple months late, but no... Doctor says "No blood no worries" I say "But for real with the cramps" and he says "Yes, I know, please notice the MD at the end of my name and the fact that you call me doctor, normal, quit freaking out."

#3 The horny... this is a new one, but for real, the horny. More like adolescent boy crazy/the horny. It's insane, I have had shexy dreams every night about some pretty boy (or man, or chick) every feaking night for like the last two weeks. Normally it's the pretty Robert Pattinson or Ryan Reynolds. Seriously, these men want me, at 3am, from afar, or so says my dreams.

Change in course, or not...

So, as of late I've realized that my infertility blog has quickly become a mother-in-law rant blog. Which is a change of format. But kind of it isn't. Her behavior, and our reaction, are all directly related to the pregnancy which is related to the infertility.

So I have a question for you dear internets... do you prefer I take the MIL ranting elsewhere, or do you care?

The good, the bad and the MIL

So, I haven't been posting as much lately. Primarily in an attempt to not be boring. Also in an attempt to not be overly, "I'm pregnant, yay!" when 1) we're not out of the woods, yet and 2) the majority of my readership is still TTC. Not that I'm claiming a huge readership. So, I'm trying to balance the haps, with the pregnancy and not bore you all to death.

So, good stuff first, yeah? We have another ultrasound on Friday. We only get two more with the RE before we have to go to the common folks doctor (this is how I refer to the OB since finding out how much better the RE's office treats their patients). I've been reading books on natural childbirth (the Bradley Methos) and nursing. G stole my copy of What to Expect, and I can't find it... So, I used copius amounts of drugs to get pregnant, but I don't think I want to use drugs to get it out. I'll update you further post u/s.

The bad stuff (ok, medium)... I've given up on dog containment during the day. They thwarted my every attempt to keep them in the kitchen, so they now have total house freedom day and night. And... Emma is retaining her training. They must have been ready. So yay, for no pees on the floor, but boo to more hair on the furniture.

The MIL... Did not receive Mother's Day card or acknowledment from MIL. I did send her a card from G and me and from our Blueberry Bean. I also, very graciously, sent her u/s photos. Which, though G's handwriting was nowhere to be found on any of, she thanked HIM for. Whatever. Also, G and I worded a letter to send to her to establish our boundaries. I'm putting it in the mail tonight. Here's the text for any who care:

Dear Mom,

We have a few things that we need to say to you, but because things have been so strained lately, we don’t feel talking about this face to face is the best way to approach the issue at this time. That is why we are writing this letter. This is from both of us.

Over the past fifteen years, many things have transpired that have been left unaddressed and have festered into a sour relationship between us. The main issue, as we see it, is your blatant rejection of Arminta. You need to understand that because we are married and are a team rejecting one of us is rejecting both of us. This rejection has shown up as you criticizing, insulting and berating Arminta. Sometimes to her face, but usually to Gar. Gar is not willing to be in the middle of this negativity any longer. If you have a specific issue that you would like to discuss calmly with Arminta, please feel free to call her and discuss it directly with her. Neither of us is willing to allow you to insult, criticize, berate or shout at either of us any longer. We are willing to discuss, calmly, any actual occurrence in which you feel you have been wronged, going forward. We are not willing to dwell on past events.

Additionally, we are not willing to pretend that everything is OK when it is not. Things are not OK right now, and they won’t be until some resolution and change happens in our relationship. We have both been hurt by your behavior over the past few months. Gar has been especially hurt by your berating him over the phone in the past two months. We are experiencing some of the biggest joys and biggest stresses in our lives right now, with finally becoming pregnant after months of fertility treatments and years of infertility. We both are excited and happy to be welcoming this baby into our home and to be honest your behavior since we announced our pregnancy has been hurtful and has added stress to our lives. We hoped to be able to share this joyous time with you, rather than to have to endure ill treatment because of it. We are hurt that you would willingly add stress to what is already a high risk pregnancy.

We are willing to accept partial responsibility for the condition of our relationship, if you are willing to accept your share. We feel that you owe us an apology for the berating and stressful phone calls of the past few weeks, and are not willing to pursue further contact until this happens.

We are also not willing to listen to anymore insults, criticisms or berating of Arminta’s family. You do not have a relationship with them and you do know the details of our relationships with them. If a member of Arminta’s family specifically does or says something to you that hurts you in the future, please feel free to discuss this calmly and rationally with Arminta. We are not willing to dwell on the past.

There are people with whom we are not willing to have a relationship. This is a result of our relationship with them, and is not a reflection of anyone’s opinion of anything other than that persons behavior (and its’ effect on our lives) and events that transpired between them and us, ending our relationship. As adults, we expect you to respect our decision, whether or not you agree with it or decide to continue your own relationship with those people. We are willing to understand that you still want a relationship with people who have hurt us or with whom we have chosen not to have a relationship, and are willing to respect that decision.

Arminta is particularly hurt over events that have happened over the years, especially insults about her weight and disparaging comments on her health. She is willing to put a fresh start on this relationship, and to try to build more trust in you as a mother-in-law. Trust will take time to re-build. In the meantime, Arminta is not willing to put herself into situations where she feels uncomfortable or likely to be attacked. This may result in Gar coming to events alone, or it may result in neither of us coming to an event, based on how we feel at the time.

We do hope that things between us can improve and that you will be willing to make changes with us in order to have a better relationship. We would like for you to be able to be a part of the baby’s life. Provided improvement is being made when the baby is born we hope that you will come to see the baby at our home. We would like to state in advance, though, that we are not willing to allow our positions as parents to be disrespected.

We sincerely hope that you see this letter for what it is, an attempt to begin the repair process on our relationship. We also hope that you will consider what we are saying and know that this is very important to us both. If you would like to discuss this further, we would like to have you over for dinner and a conversation. Please let us know when would be a good time for you.

Sincerely,

G & A

Right vs Best

I am in a sticky conumdrum. There is a situation in my life, about which I'm going to be unusually vague, that is really perplexing me. There are the things I know to be true, versus the things I can prove are true. The things I can prove do not warrant action, but the things I know do. There is also the question of what is right and is what's right what's best for all involved. I'm really struggling with how to handle. Sorry for being so cryptic and vague, but until I decide how to proceed it's necessary...

Gas or Baby

I can't tell. I have fluttering "down there" and I can't tell if it's gas or baby. I'm guessing it's WAY too early to be baby, and must be gas...

Which wouldn't be surprising.

FYI... pregnancy is gassy work.

Oh, the things no one tells us.

Gravity and I are Still Friends

No, I did not in fact fall off of the face of the Earth. Really.

I did have an ultrasound, though. I figured I was getting pretty used to the whole ultrasound routine, and since we heard the heartbeat last time, I thought we should bring the camera to record it. Great idea. I love listening to the 7 seconds of heartbeat we got recorded.

Why only 7 seconds? Seems short and arbitrary, no?

As it turns out, my husband (who was a photography/videography student at our "magnet for the arts" high school) is not the one who should be taking video of important moments. The heartbeat was on for almost 30 seconds before I realized he hadn't even turned on the camera. Gee whiz. Well, we do have other footage, of him joking with the nurse, of my feet poking out of the sheet, of the nurse joking about taking an under the sheet shot, of G's face as jokes with the nurse, oh and a couple of fuzzy passing shots of our child on the monitor. Very frustrating. But, I have 7 seconds to play over and over, so I should be grateful for that!

In other news... I'm having an affair with Robert Pattinson. But only when I'm asleep. I also don't think he's aware of this. At all.

All the same, my dreams have been steamy as of late. Very unusual for me. I normally have dreams that are borderline nightmares, but in the past two weeks that has changed drastically. I think it might have something to do with having watched Twilight like 20 times since the DVD came out. Also, weird for me. I read all four of the books. I liked them fine, but I'd choose Harry Potter any day of the week for reading entertainment. The Twilight movie, on the other hand, I'm hooked on. I can't figure out why, but I'm blaming the Blueberry Bean.

Which is the baby's name until the gender is revealed. The Blueberry Bean is being blamed for more things, too. Like I usually am a homebody on the weekends and now I'm enjoying running around with G. I usually am not overly affectionate, or needy in the "stay home and snuggle" sense of the word, but lately, yeah I've been saying that. Weird. I'm not complaining these are all things that make my hubs happy, so great. Just also, weird. I think the Blueberry Bean is more like G than me and is controlling my mind.

What else has happened in the insane amount of time since the last post... Right, my mother-in-law has lost her damn mind. But for real. Internets, this woman needs psychological help. She is calling and saying hateful things, then calling and telling G to leave her alone then calling and crying about they've never been like to each other and it's all my fault. Then of course comes the tirade on why I'm a terrible person who should not be allowed to exist. Her primary complaints are things like, after she was overbearing on me for HOURS at a picnic at my house with 30 people in 90+ degree heat (where her family members were smoking pot and driving through my lawn) I snapped at her for being to overbearing. I'm a terrible, terrible human being. I also talk trash about her family and have no right to do so. You know, I don't have any reason to not like her sister who illegally registered a car to my address to avoid emissions testing and when G called and asked her to change it, saying we didn't feel comfortable with the situation she went off and told him she hoped he died a painful death with the rest of "his family." Then continued to call and leave nasty messages for several more days. But, according to MIL, this sister has "always been good to me and I have no reason to say I don't want to be around her."

The real kicker, I have stated for actual reasons that involve me or G that I don't want to be around specific people. But, if I were to speak about her family the way she talks about mine, she'd be at my house threatening to kick my ass, pregnant or not. I'm really, really tired of this BS, and yet, it continues.

So, that's it... Just busy battling crazy, but gravity and I still get along.

Spring has Sprung

My office moved to a new building this winter. So, for the last nearly five months the view from my window has essentially been a dirt pit. Today there is grass and boxwood and holly. The landscapers came this morning. In the space of four hours they completely transformed the front of the building. It's the same little patch of earth, but now it's different.

That has me thinking of my life this spring. So many things are the same, but now different. I am struggling with a couple of different aspects of life and pregnancy and feel rather like an island to myself right now. I'm neither a part of the infertility world, nor the fertile world. I didn't expect this at all. I guess I expected to feel more like part of both worlds than neither. So, I'm the same infertile me, with some pregnancy induced landscaping (this is both metaphorical, and a reference to the need for more frequent waxing over the past few weeks).

The other area of struggle at present is the ever soul draining mother-in-law. I'm telling you, this woman doesn't know how to be happy and is incapable of thinking of anyone but herself. That sounds harsh, I know. But trust me when I say to you that it's so true. It's a huge big deal that G has been confronting his mother on a number of issues lately. The point of contention seems to be me (surprise!). I'm not good enough, my family and I have some sort of conspiracy against her, I've been badmouthing her family and apparently I've been getting her blood pressure up and last but not least, G and I are both bi-polar. I suspect that she's jealous of the baby. Frankly, I'd be quite glad if she dropped out of our lives; however, this is killing G. He feels torn between wanting his mother to be a part of his and his child's lives and protecting his family (i.e. me and baby) from a vicious predator (i.e. MIL). He just wants some normalcy and peace. I can't blame him. I want some normalcy and peace, too. I'm tired of nasty voicemail messages and G feeling like he has to keep stuff a secret or I will get stressed and will lose the baby. The worst part is that is what G thinks. He thinks she's trying to cause stress so that I will lose the baby. He's probably right. Naturally, I'm not letting myself get stressed over this and I'm doing everything I can to keep his stress low, too, but it's kind of hard when I have no control over the outside force that's causing the stress. I'm just so sick of the drama.

Still Infertile

I don't know why, but I thought that if I ever were to get pregnant I'd develop a fertiles mind. Not that I'd lose the perspective of the journey, or enjoy the success any less. More that I thought that pregnancies and babies that were not result of so much struggle and hard work would have less of a negative impact on me. I thought I'd be more capable of being happy for the non-infertiles.

Why I thought this would happen magically and all on its own is beyond me. I have no idea. Obviously, that isn't the way it works. Infertility is part of who I am now. I'm not sure that I like that. When I hear of my cousins having babies, I don't think "Yay! Another baby in the family." I think "Why her? Why does she get to have as many as she wants and I'm struggling for one?" Even here in the throws of all day sickness nausea, when other infertiles are asking the same question in reference to me (and I don't know... I wish we all had success, I wish we were all pregnant and I hope this is your last cycle and you get pregnant, really I do). When I see movies with miscarriage & infertility, it still affects me more than others. It still affects my husband more than it should (he got too upset to watch Marley & Me because of the miscarriage in the beginning).

So, I guess I'm feeling a little surprised today that while I'm almost there (not counting myself as arrived until baby is snuggly in arms) in terms of success, I still seem to be in the infertility trenches.

The Best Day Ever with Arminta F. Thompkins

Yeah, my name really does not contain an "F. Thompkins" but I'm a big fan of Paul F. Thompkins, and it fit with my title (if you don't know who Paul F. Thompkins is, please do a youtube search for "Best Week Ever with Paul F. Thompkins" I'll wait... funny, right?)

So, yes, I am having the best day in the history of days. It started with getting to skip a weekly work meeting to go to the RE's for my second ultrasound. Yay! On the way to said u/s appt, I got pulled over (for the second time in my whole life). Oh, noes! Not today... Today the cop gave me a break and didn't give me a ticket and I still made it to my appt on time.

Then, G was running late and he wasn't there when I got there, but... the doctor was running later and G got there in time to get to go back with me! And it's a good thing he did because...

We got to HEAR the heartbeat. Not just see, but hear it, too. It was the single best sound I've ever heard. Nice strong 116 beats per minute. I totally bawled in front of the doctor and dildo cam operator. Poor G is still u/s reading impaired, but since I was a mess listening to the heart the nursing assistant (aka vampire) was nice enough to explain to him what we were looking at and why I was bawling. He did see the heart flickering, but her thought the whole gestational sac was the heart. The doctor said "perfect" twice during the ultrasound. I'm unaccustomed to hearing "perfect" in reference to me and specifically in reference to me and reproduction, so that made me cry more.

Best of all he printed pics for sharing. Now, I am quite creative with my interpretation of fuzzy bean pictures, so I see a head, tail and arm; however, I understand your mileage may vary.

That darn pug

As if I've not got enough going on with the every other day bloodwork and the weekly ultrasounds and the worrying about the whole deal, I now also have to worry about building a fortress strong enough to contain Emma every morning.

It seems she has taken to figuring out how to break down whatever I put in front of the kitchen door to keep her and Waldo contained during the day. At this point we're up to a rolling kitchen island, a baby gate, two dining room chairs and a box. Yesterday she managed to roll the island out of the way, break down the gate and crawl under a chair.

How much trouble is one pug worth...

You may have noticed

That I am a pessimist. Yes, I am a glass half empty kind of girl. Then when the glass turns out to be 5/8 full, yay!

Currently, we're sitting a little better than 5/8 full, it's probably closer to 3/4 full. Enough with the fractions! What was I rambling about...

Right, the glass is fuller than previously anticipated. We had the first ultrasound on Friday. We (I'm using "we" a little loosely here, the doctor did most of the work) found a gestational sac firmly in uterus (so not ectopic). It was a little small based on LMP date, but it was spot on considering that I did ovulate until CD 19. We also found a "primitive little yolk sac." I'm imagining a cave baby inventing the wheel and discovering fire. So, while there is still concern over the numbers, it is less of a concern. This means we get another ultrasound next Friday. The vampire that works in the RE's office also took some more blood, because why not, my arm is there and I already look like a heroin addict (due to arm bruising, not gauntness & general lack of hygiene).

One interesting finding was a spot that couldn't be positively identified. The doctor said it might be fluid or it might have been a twin that was blighted. So, if that's the case, it could explain the numbers going wonky.

My Life = Upside Down

So yesterday I went back for a "routine, just to check, we don't expect anything to be wrong, we just like sticking you" third beta. The nurse jokes with me about finally being able to remove the infertility code from my chart. All is happy and well. My family sends me joking e-mails about baby names. Things were great.

Until...

3:45pm

That's when the doctor's office called. The same nurse who joked about taking the infertility code off of my chart called to tell me my test results. Great, I love hearing the numbers, because they're always (all twice that I've heard them) so great. My hcg is 1106 and progesterone is 46.1. OK, the progesterone has taken a nosedive from 80, but anything over 20 is good, I think. Then the nurse says what I really, really didn't want to hear her say. "You're numbers aren't doubling the way they should."

What?!?!?!?!?!?

Apparently, the numbers need to double every other day, and mine are doubling just under every three days. So, I ask what should the numbers be today. Between 1200 and 2400 based on the last two betas. So I'm 100 lower than the lower end of "OK." FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

Of course, I didn't really expect my pregnancy to be smooth sailing. I didn't really believe Dr. Wonderful was going to solve the problems that caused my body to kill four other innocent babies. But, I hoped. I really, really hoped.

So, what does this mean? It could be nothing. I could have been dehydrated (apparently has the opposite effect on blood tests as on urine tests). Or... it could be ectopic. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

Dr. Wonderful has decided that he does want me to have an ultrasound early (tomorrow, @ 6wks), to see if they can find a sac. I assume there will also be more drawing of blood, because why not? My vein will be within easy poking distance, and they do love to poke. Unfortunately Dr. Wonderful is MIA tomorrow, so I have to see Dr. Groll (not a fake name, I figure as he's in the book business he probably doesn't mind having his name plastered about the internet, and I like his name). I'm OK with seeing Dr. Groll, I trust him and I've seen him before, but I was really hoping to see MY doctor. At least I got to talk to my doctor.

So, now we're back in wait and see mode. I think God must hate me. Or at least really like to fuck with me. I know we're not talking Job level testing, but Minta's not Job. I'm not strong enough for this shit.

The Pug is on the Lose

Well, folks, we've moved and apparently gotten knocked up and all of this hasn't phased Emma puggins one little bit. Oh, except it's easier to escape the kitchen and cause chaos during the day at the new house.

I'm one of those mean dog owners that keeps the dogs confined to one area of the house while I'm away at work, because, well, it keeps the mess down. Besides, the way I figure it, they sleep all day anyway. Why do they need the whole house to do that? Also, this little temporary imprisonment gives the cat some reprieve from Emma chasing her everytime she needs to pee.

Emma on the other hand thinks she does need the whole house. More accurately, she thinks she needs to be able to chase the cat through the whole house. It just kills her that the cat gets the living room and bathroom while she's confined to the kitchen.

At the old house I would slide the microwave cart in front of the baby gate, and voila insta-prison. We have a different set up at this house, though and since I no longer leave through the back door, and have to cross over the baby gate to leave the house, I can't roll anything in front of it. So, for the past 4 days Emma has hopped the gate and Waldo has in his Emma-less boredom tore the trash can all to hell. Today I had a brilliant plan to put an end to this non-sense. I would put a chair in front of the gate to stop Emma hopping it, then I'd also put the trash can in the dining room where the dogs couldn't reach it. It was a good plan. Except, I underestimated Emma's desire to be free. She hopped the gate, chair and all. Then, because Waldo was unable to do the deed she got onto the chair and got everything out of the trash. Bitch!

So, we're back at square one. I'm thinking we give up on this silly notion of confining the poochies. G wants to put them in the garage. (It's attached and heated and we don't park in it)

What do you think dear internets, garage or freedom? or maybe you know of a better plan?

This thing just might be real

Well, I got the call today on my second beta. Numbers are doubling right on schedule. I'm really pregnant. After five years. It's amazing. I am officially amazed.


This journey all started at about 3am on Saturday. I woke up and needed to pee. This is a normal happening at 3am in my house. However, it was our last night in the old house, so I decided to go ahead and test. I'd test a day early, it would come back negative and that would be OK, because it would mean we were leaving infertility at the old house. It couldn't follow us, if I tested right then. This is what I call 3am brain fog. Of course none of that makes sense, but it's what I was thinking. So, I peed on the stick and sat there for a minute getting ready to head back to bed. Then I looked back at the test (3-5 minutes later, I'm slow in the middle of the night), and there staring back at me were two lines. One was quite pale, but there was no mistaking that it was there. I just stood there, in shock. How could this be? So, I got back in bed and told G, he got up to look at it. He was not excited enough to stay up, but he did get up to look at it. He said "I am so happy right now." Which is big happiness from G (he's a pathological worrier).


We moved all day Saturday and I didn't open my mouth all day, but I wanted to! Then I took another test at 3am on Sunday (told ya, that's my normal time) and it was positive, too!!!


I told my Mom on Sunday. All she could say was "I'm scared to believe it, I'm scared to believe it." But now that the beta's have come back so nicely (121 and 298 respectively) we are all starting to believe it.

The Move

The move has come and gone and I'm still here to blog about it, yay! I do still have some stuff that needs to be moved, but not much. I didn't get the packing help that I was expecting so my office is still a mess, but I don't know where I'm going to put the office in the new house anyway. I'll probably put it in the attic because the second bedroom is going to be the nursery.

Do what?

Yes, I said nursery. We got a positive pee test over the weekend and my blood test came back positive yesterday afternoon. As Rainn Wilson would say... My eggo is preggo. HOORAY!!!!

So Confused

Well, yesterday my temp dipped a little (to 98.1, which is still high for me). The exhaustion and nausea are slightly better. Now, though the nausea is back full force, and it brought it's good friend heartburn to play.

So, I know the shot is gone by now, I would have thought it was gone a few days, ago, though. So, the change in symptoms is confusing to me. I just wish there was some way to know Yes! Implantation has occured, today.

In other news, I got to babysit my niece H last night. It was so fun to spend time with her, without everyone else being up our keesters. I love my hubs and obviously her parents/grand-parents know her better than I, because they're always with her. But, I'd like to get to know her, without everybody else popping in their two cents. Maybe she does like gravy in her mashed potatoes, if they're prepared differently. Maybe she does like to be tossed in the air by some people. Maybe she's changed her mind about which doll is her favorite today. So, anyway, it was fun to just chill with the H-bug and get to know her for myself. We had a fun time.

OK, I've got to go struggle to maintain awakefulness (it's a word, now) until 6:00pm.

Before I get, the FertilityFriend pregometer is sitting at 97%...

Something New

I am so hot. Not like, "I'm gorgeous", but like "Who turned up the heat, it's 900 degrees in here."

I cannot recall ever having been this warm before. I'm sure it's happened, like when it's 90 degrees outside or something, but for real, it's cool out and I'm sweating in short sleeves and capri's. Normally, I'm the person running a space heater in August.

If this isn't a sign of successful implantation, I don't know what is. (In all realness, my temps are running about .3-.4 degrees higher than normal for this time of the month.) I guess we just have to wait for the beta on Monday to find out. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to be peeing on sticks before then, but I don't think I'll be able to trust it until Dr. Wonderful says "You are no longer PUPO, just pregnant, start the heparin injections." That's when it will be real, FertilityFriend be damned.

Speaking of my whore of a best friend, FertilityFriend, the "are you knocked up predictor" is up to a whopping 93%. Apparently constipation is a good thing. I'm going to have to respectfully disagree. Don't get me wrong, I'll gladly be constipated for a year if it means a baby, but I'm not going to call it a good thing.

Now that I've openly had hope for not one but three days in a row the universe will punish me swiftly and severely, I'm sure, so feel free to point and laugh when this happens. I'm sure the other shoe is preparing to drop any minute.

Time is Sooooo Slooooowwww

We are officially 8 dpo. Yes, I am referring to myself using the royal "we." Besides, I might be a we, so get off me, I'll do what I want! But for real, could the days until next Sunday be going any slower? I don't think they could. Unless... No, they are going as slow as is possible.

So, yesterday I had a huge temp spike. I made it all the way to 98.6!! I rarely do that during the day, so that has to be a good sign, right. I was 97.8 on Saturday and 98.6 on Sunday, so something has to have happened. The high temp remains today, so I'm taking that as a sign.

There's just nothing like spring to make that bitch Hope come out and play. Oh, well, hopes are high now, so be prepared for the inevitable crash, dear internets.

Are we wondering what that whore FertilityFriend has to say on the matter? 82% Which is officially the highest number I've gotten at this stage in the game. I give her no credence though. According to her I should have been pregnant many times before. (Yes, I've given gender to an emotion and a web site, again, I do what want!)

So now, back to the hope... I realized that I'd not yet posted the multiples math, here's what we got:

No Baby: 20.00%
Singleton: 80.00%
Twins: 16.00%
Trips: 3.20%
Quads: 0.64%

We have a higher chance of no baby than of twins. Also, yes, I'm aware that there is no mathematical model to predict success, and there's always a chance for no success. This is based off of the 1 in 5 chance of conceiving on a given normal ovulatory cycle (i.e. one egg, on one side) statistics to decide to go forward or not with the follies we had. Obviously we went forward.

OK, so now a little time has past. Let's hope more can pass more quickly.

Fighting Urge to POAS

I know it's too early. I know the way I'm feeling right now is from the trigger shot. I am fully aware that there is no way I could be pregnant, yet, and the zygote is still in transit from tube to ute and will need a couple days to hunker down once in said ute.

I know these things.

But, I still want to see those two lines NOW. Not on the 31st when that whore FertilityFriend thinks I should and not on the 27th when the nurse thinks I should, but RIGHT FREAKING NOW.

Two Week Wait, I Hate You

You are so cruel in the way that you slow down time.

You are so mean in the way that you make me think every little thing is a pregnancy sign.

I think you get a big kick out of watching me alternate between hope and despair 6 times an hour.

Suffice it to say, I don't like you and you're not my friend (to quote Big C). Unless I'm pregnant, then we can be friends again!

The MIL is Still Buggin' Me

OK, here's the thing, I don't want to see G hurt. I know that my going after his mother the way I'd like to right now will end in his being more hurt. She's already hurt him enough this week. However, I'm still feeling like boundaries need to be enforced. I did this once before. I changed our phone numbers, we moved and did not give her the address. Then G would call her when HE was up for it (blocking the phone number) and eventually, he felt like it was OK to give her the phone numbers and address. Then things were OK for a while. We've been through several rounds of OK and definitely NOT OK over the past 15 years. Although, we've never had to go back to the extreme of changing the phone numbers again.

If there weren't the possibility of a baby coming soon, I'd be right on board with that. But, I know G wants to be able to share the birth of his first child with his Mom. Of course he does. He wants a Mom that loves and respects him and is happy for him. He wants to have a normal, healthy relationship with her. I can't blame him for that, of course that's what he wants. I want it for him. On the other hand, that's not going to be possible with his mother.

Now, I understand that a big part of her problem is jealousy. She's jealous that I have a career and that I have been able to provide G with a better home than she was able to. She's jealous that I don't have to stay married to a man I hate because I have no job skills or way to support myself. She's jealous that I have a loving husband. She's jealous that I made good life decisions and she did not. She's jealous of G, too. It's conflicting her because on the one hand she weirdly kind of worships G, and on the other she's very jealous of him. Because he's happy and she isn't. I understand this kind of mentality, some members of my fathers family created it. But, I don't understand it coming from a mother to her child.

At any rate. I feel as if I cannot let this most recent episode go by without addressing it. It is apparent to me that if she will not be a decent person of of respect and love, then she will have to just behave like one out of fear of repercussion. For instance... calling names = hanging up the phone or leaving the restaurant. It's a crying shame that a grown adult should have to be trained the way one would train a puppy.

If anyone else has suggestions for dealing with a Monster-In-Law in a way that reduces stress (rather than adds to it), please feel free to share.

I have Honest Scrap!

My very first blog award, from Callie at May the Road Rise. Thank you, Callie! I truly appreciate the thought and it has come at a time when I could use a little encouragement!

Well, I'm guessing the rules of this kind of award are fairly well known, but I shall post them anyway :)

The rules:

1) Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.

2) Show the 7 winners names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with “Honest Scrap.” Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon.

3) List at least 10 honest things about yourself.

OK, let's start with the honesty.

1) I don't have a lot of friend in real life. I have lots of pals and lots of transitory friends, but precious few actual, lifelong friends.

2) I'm a major food snob, when it comes to events/restaurants, but I love me some processed junk at home. Kraft Mac-n-cheese is just about heaven on earth when I'm feeling down.

3) I pick up accents without meaning to. If I'm talking to you, and I pick up your accent, I'm sorry, I really have no control over this.

4) I really don't like to work. Don't get me wrong, I have a great job and if I have to work, it's the best job for me, but I wish I could stay at home. Hopefully the move will help facilitate that one.

5) I used to sing a lot, like in choirs and musical plays, but I have RA and it damaged the joint that controls my vocal chords and now I don't sing well. I always sound like I have a sore throat.

6) I love to just chill and play the Sims for like hours sometimes on the weekends. Not every weekend, but once every 2-3 months I take a me day and eat junk food and play the Sims. It really helps me reset.

7) I have a strong aversion to talking on the telephone. Especially to people I don't know very well. There are less than five people I like talking to on the phone.

8) I totally agree with Callie on the hating to wear a bra and the needing to. It's hard to find a bra that fits in all three areas (band, cup, strap). I need a strap perfect.

9) I own a set of Sham-Wows! I like 'em, too.

10) I don't watch much TV, but I will hang up on my Mother for Jack Bauer. I love me some Jack Bauer.

And now, drum roll please *pretend I figured out how to type a drum roll* the award is passed on to:

• Barren is the New Black


• Bugaboo Envy


• Military Spice


• What You're Not Expecting When You're Trying to Expect


• Baby Smiling In Back Seat


• Conceive This!

A Letter to My Mother-In-Law

Preface: Things have been pretty hairy on the MIL front over the past couple of weeks, and now they're at critical mass. G is essentially shutting her off, to the point of wanting to change our phone numbers and not give her the address to the new house.



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



Dear P,



Let me start by saying, I know you don't like me (and to be clear, I don't like you either). You never have. I also know that this has nothing to do with me. I could be anyone and you would still hate me, because you are a selfish person who wants to control and dominate. The problem is that you want to control and manipulate my husband, and that's not going to happen. See, G is a grown up with his own life and makes his own decisions. He likes it that way. He also likes having a wife who treats him like an adult and an equal and a partner. He does not like having a mother who is constantly undermining him and treating him like a child. He is 33 after all. Should you ever decide to be a grown up and accept this as a good thing, I know that he would love to have a healthy and normal relationship with you. But as things stand you are hurting him and pushing him away. That's all I'll say about G, because that's between you and him. I don't like seeing my husband hurt, but I know that I can't stop you from hurting him and I can't stop him from letting you, all I can do is be there to support him when you do.



On the subject of you and I; however, I do have more to say. For starters, you may have selective memory, and you may believe you were nice to me at some point throughout the years, but you were not. I have many witnesses to this fact, and if you'd like to sue me (and by proxy G) for slander, bring it on. In order for a statement to be slanderous it has to be false, so good luck winning a slander suit. You have said terrible things to me. You have called me terrible names. Most of this happened while I was still a minor, before I knew better than to speak to you. If you'd like to have a very public display of what a hateful person you were to a young girl who wanted nothing more than to be in love (and be your friend), then let's do it. I have neighbors who saw you pull up in front of my house and yell for me to come out so you could kick my a.ss. My family has listened on the phone as you called me every name in the book. Trust me, however you remember the last 16 years, you have not been a good person to me and there are lots of people who have seen it. So, I'd quit making slander lawsuit threats.



I'd also quit telling my husband that it's only a matter of time before I cheat on him. Unlike you, I love my husband. This statement has me pretty upset for two reasons. Firstly, you hurt my husband, and that's just not allowed. From anyone. Secondly, this is an example of a slanderous statement. There is absolutely no reason to believe that I'd ever cheat on Gar. We are in a loving marriage, built on Christ our savior. We have overcome many adversities together and have grown only stronger. What part of that suggests that I treat him poorly or am just moments away from screwing someone else? Don't project your crap and baggage onto me, I'm NOTHING like you. You may have screwed around on B (and who knows who else), and B may have screwed around on you, but you two are not me and G. Of course, it's not wrong when you do it... *note the dripping sarcasm*



Also, unlike you, apparently, I have better things to discuss with my friends and family than you. No, my mother and I don't just sit around bad mouthing you all day. As a matter of fact, other than when my husband calls me upset from a call or time spent with you, I don't even think about you. Don't get me wrong, I sometimes think of how unfortunate it is that my children won't have the benefit of two strong and loving Grandmothers like I had, but that's not about you, that's about my & G's children.



Whether you like it or not, G and I are having children. In fact, we might be pregnant right now. It's just too early to tell. We were not pregnant on Christmas, though, nor was I "faking it" as you claim. See part of my treatments involves taking an hcg shot, which makes you feel pregnant. Morning sickness and all for some. I'm one of the lucky ones who gets the false morning sickness. Thanks for being so concerned for my well being though, I know it was tough. At any rate, we are going to have children, whether they are biological or adopted or both. They probably will be both. See, we've waited until we were settled and mature to have children. (I know you were fully mature at 15, but most people aren't, also most 50 year olds don't still act they're 15, but whatever.) We BOTH want this. Yes, G wants to be a father. That's what happens when you wait until you're a grown up to make major life decisions, you WANT the responsibility, because you know it comes with rewards. I'm sorry that you feel G was burden and held you back in life. Although, considering Grandma had him most of the time, you were out partying or on a truck with your boyfriend or whatever you did for most of his childhood, I'm not really seeing how he was such a burden to you. He really appreciates you bringing it up all the time though. It really makes a person feel good to know their mother never really wanted them and feels like their life is worse for having them.



You can stop with the family pride. If that is what you're proud to be associated with, I'm quite glad to be an outsider. With the exception of the B family (C, P, C, J & H) your family are all trash. Yes, all. You have rapists, child molesters, thieves, child molesters, adulterers, liars, thieves, gold diggers, alcoholics, drug addicts and the like in your family who you adamantly defend as good people. Then have the gall to call me names and talk about my family. Really? Your sister who thinks it's OK to pour kerosene on a child's head to get rid of lice (oh, and who let the poor kid get lice) is a better person than my uncle the pastor? You have a cousin serving a life sentence in prison for molesting a child, who you see regularly and he's a good person, but I'm a bad person? Seriously, you have strange priorities when you would rather be associated with that lot than G and me. But, if that's what you call good people, I'm quite alright with you thinking I'm no good. Because, I'm not like those people. I only bring your family into things because you seemed to have a lot to say about mine this afternoon. Only what I'm saying about your family is true.



The bottom line, P, I don't care what you think of me or my family. I don't care if you hate me. I don't care if you want to call and leave me voice mails railing me for some thing or another. Really, I don't, because I don't care about you. But I do care about the effect of your actions on my husband, and if you love him as you claim to, you should care about that too.



F Off,



M

So Sleepy

I literally just slept straight through my lunch hour, and then some. Had my ovaries not woke me up, I might still be asleep. Speaking of the ovaries, OW! When do they stop hurting? My trigger was Saturday night, so I should have o'd at some point during the night last night, but they still hurt like the dickens.

So, I'm guessing the continued pain is probably a good sign, like everything ruptured the way it's supposed to. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Two weeks.

What a Long Day!

I have had a very long day today. Made only longer by hot flashes, fatigue and a complete inability to sleep at night when I'm supposed to.

Today started with my psyanky class. Dad came with me, and I'm glad he did. We had a great time and made some beautiful pysanky. Well, my pysanka was OK, it's still not as good as I'd like it to be. Here I'll show ya...

Fun, right? Dad's was good, too. The instructor said his was an excellent first egg.

The instructor was a very sweet lady, and I just love her. Today was the first time we'd ever met, but she was so warm and sweet. We got onto the subject of children (she has seven!) and eventually onto fertility treatments (she has a neice with IVF twins). I shared with her that we were in the midst of treatments. (Yes, that's right, someone else brought up babies and infertility.) She asked questions and when I told her that we actually have some good news this cycle she was genuinely happy and hugged me. A practical stranger. It really struck me how that's the reaction I should be getting from our family and friends, or at least those who know what we're doing. I know I can't expect more from people than they have to give, but whatever, it was nice to have someone really care for change (not you dear internets, I know you care).

What really struck me though, was the contrast between this strangers reaction and G's mother's reaction. Now, I haven't mentioned G's mother veyr much on here, and that's because we don't speak. At all. There are many reasons, but suffice it to say I don't like her and she wishes I were dead so there you have it. Anyway, her reaction to our seeking fertility help was essentially that she thought we shouldn't have children, children ruin your life and she wasn't going to be tied down because we decided to go out and get knocked up. Oh, and she knows her son doesn't want children, so that fat bi.tch (that'd be me) must have manipulated him and she was going to talk to him and set him straight. Now, first of all, there was a time when that would have had me ready to claw her eyes out of her head, but I've been putting up with this nonsense long enough to just ignore it. Except when it's tearing my husband apart. He is sincerely hurt that his mother is so well... crazy? I really can't think of a better word. He's excited to have a baby, with me of all things. And for her to essentially tell him that he doesn't really want that, and etc... hurts his feelings. But, according to her the only reason his feelings are hurt is because I've manipulated him into hating her. Oi!

Like I said, long day...

Do you like to do it yourself?

So, I have several rather disconnected things on my mind tonight. For starters, I've turned the Facebook link back off. It's just too exposing. The whole purpose of the blog is to be able to be open and relatively anonymous. Since Facebook doesn't let me pick and choose what to bring over, I guess I'll have to do it myself. (A phrase which ALWAYS make me think of Elizabeth Banks in The 40 Year Old Virgin.) Don't get me wrong, I want to keep my RL friends apprised of what's going on, but I just can't deal with my hubs buddies knowing that my ovaries hurt when I poo.

Speaking of... my ovaries hurt when I poo! For realz! I think one of them may actually explode during ovulation. Wanna know something else? As long as I get knocked up, I think I'd be OK with that just to ease some of the pressure. I guess this should be a good thing, right? The follies are growing and what not.

I hope all of the follicles are coming along nicely. It's funny because, in my heart of hearts, I want twins. I've wanted twins for my entire life. Twins are a big deal in my family because we have many pairs, but few who both survived. My Dad is a twin, but his brother Larry died when they were less than one year old. Big C is a twin, but his twin was ectopic. My Gran was always pro-twin, and I think she has a lot to do with my always wanting twins. She used to talk about how twins run in the family and she said she hoped for twin great grand children. She almost (and I am NOT talking bad in any way about my Gran, who is a saint and whom I love dearly and miss daily) gave her twin desire to me as a responsibility. As if it were my destiny to deliver twin great grand-children to her. Now, she never said anything like that outright, but she also never had to. she was clearly disappointed when G and I had issues, because to her mind, I should have provided her first great grand-children and there should have been two. So, when my sister went first she wasn't happy about it until Big C was here (then she was in love him through and through). Then lots of my cousins started having babies, even some of the "younger" cousins, and while Gran was always happy about the babies, I always felt she was somehow disappointed in my lack of ability to "keep up." When her great niece had twins (using Clomid) she immediately called me to tell me to see the girls doctor. This was before G and I had even considered seeing a fertility specialist. I had my last miscarriage shortly after my Gran passed. The last words I said to her before she died were that I was pregnant (and she was the only person I told). She died the next morning. On the one hand, I know this isn't the case, but on the other I have to wonder... could she have been hanging on for her twins? All of that to say, with four follicles that twin hope is back. Don't get me wrong, I'll be ecstatic, jumping up and down praising the Lord from the highest tower if one healthy baby is the result of this madness. But... there could be two.

Well, I'm in a pickle, I've got so much more on my mind, and yet this post is so long already. You don't mind a little more rambling do ya? I didn't think so...

The other thing on my mind is my friend P. She's just had a baby a few weeks ago and like a complete as.shole I've not been to see her or the baby, yet. Now, she's a fellow IF'er, so she said in advance she'd understand if I had issues with being that close to a new baby. Truthfully, though, that wasn't it at all. I got sick. One sore throat and fever after another for four weeks. I have no immune system, and I thought I might have lymphoma, so I really didn't bi.tch about it too much. But, I pretty much spent all of February sick. Then since then, I've felt more like it's too late. Or I've missed my chance to do the right thing and see her (mind you, when I realized I was going to be sick a while, I sent flowers and e-mails). I feel like calling is an imposition and coming over will be inconvenient to her, but she'll say that it isn't to humor me. So, either I'm right, in which case we aren't as good as friends as I though we were. Alternatively, I'm right and I'm just a needy, pathetic thing who is being an as.shole. I don't know which is worse. Of course, the most likely scenario is that I'm crazy and am projecting my own low self worth onto other people. I feel really badly because I really love her, but I'm not sure how to get things back to normal after being absent when I should not have been.

See, this is why I don't open up to many RL friends, and why I had to turn off the Facebook link once and for all.

Houston We Have Eggs

Four of them to be exact. Well, technically we have follicles. Four. Big ones. Yay!

I've been on a date with the wand again this morning and my favorite u/s nurse, Dorinda, found two 16mm follicles on each side! That is officially my best response, yet. So we are all set to trigger on Saturday!

This could be it!!!! Of course, the universe will now have to punish me for daring to have hope, but screw it, I'm going to anyway!!

Selling the house

Yes, I'm selling my house, or trying to anyway. When we were in the midst of "Cancer Scare '09" (as I'm now referring to February) G and I discussed some possible ways to financially manage with me not working. The best plan we could come up with was sell the house and rent one of my mother's houses. Selling the house frees enough money to pay off a credit card, and hopefully a car. With the debt paid off we would be in better financial shape if I were sick and couldn't work. So, then when it turned out I wasn't cancer ridden I thought, hey... no reason we couldn't still do the move plan. It still makes sound financial sense, to me. So, we're gearing up to do just that. Yay!

I'm actually pretty excited about moving. Those of you who know me, know that while I like my little house, I'm completely over it. There are lots of little things really bugging me lately about my house and neighborhood. Oh, right, and some big things, like strangers in hot tub, and living next door to a fire station. But for real, the fire station is close. Anyway, I'm over it and ready for something new.

I'm also excited about moving because of it's implications of leaving behind the old. Sure, there are good memories in this house, but there are lots of bad ones. All of our infertility woes have been in this house. All four miscarriages happened in this house. G & I have had our fair share of marital disharmony in this house as well. I feel like moving will be leaving all of that behind and starting over. Obviously, I don't think that somehow my body will change and miraculously everything will be alright, but I do think that making a physical change is a step in the direction of hope.

In other news... Thursday's my next date with the ultrasound wand. While I'm not the biggest fan of being poked and proded first thing in the morning, I am really looking forward to learning how many follicles we have and how big they are. Mrs. Left has been making her presence known over the past day or two, so I'm sure there's something going on over there. I'm praying for four, hoping for two and bracing myself for one. The right one. The good one.

Who was in the hot tub?

Well, not me, that's for damn sure. So, who was? I don't know.

The other night G went out with some friends and I went over to my Mom's for a visit. When I got home all of the icicles were broken off of the cover, the jets were on high, the lights were on and the bubbles were on. I didn't see any footprints, but the back of the hot tub is adjacement to grass, so that doesn't mean much. The jets only stay on high for 15 minutes. I literally just missed someone who wasn't me or G using my hot tub.

I need to move. I am so tired of my neighborhood and this little incident is just the icing on the cake.

Baseline Results

Well, I had my day 5 baseline ultrasound today. The ladies showed up for the camera and smiled pretty showing off 10 nice little follicles. That is more than double what we had at this point in December, so that's good news. In December, which I didn't document at all because I'm a bad blogger, I only got one mature egg. So we're hoping more follies means more eggs, and I only need one good one.

Right, so my U/S nurse was super chipper this morning and she's all "Think positive, they're just like little plants, talk to them and make them grow" and do you know her good mood rubbed off. I might have to stop by there on my way to work just to get some of Dorinda's contagious good mood!

Feeling Hopeless

and bitter, and grouchy, and restless, and, and, and did I mention I'm on 150mg of Clomid? I know it's not the hormoniest of hormones, but I'm blaming my bad mood on it anyway, because I can.

So, yes, I'm feeling quite hopeless today. I've got a date with a wand on Wednesday and I'm sure it'll be all "Yay!" but I don't feel all "Yay!" Every other time things go all "Yay!" they don't turn out fine, and isn't that what's important? Frankly, I don't care if all of the preliminary's look spotty if the end result is a baybee. But, who am I kidding, right? Oh, well, best not to get the internets thinking I'm more depressed than I am.

She did what, now?

One of my friends in Lexington sent me a news article today to ask if I knew the jackass in question, because the incident happened near my home, and I just could not help but to comment on the situation. So, what's the situation?



A woman, who I will not name (but whose name you can read here: http://www.wpxi.com/irresistible/18831330/detail.html) was pulled over near my home for breast feeding her infant, while talking on her cell phone, while driving her other children to school. When questioned the woman said that she would take the officer's advice under consideration, but would do it again if she thought she needed to. That really happened.



Now I'm going to skip my normal bout of, "this crazy broad can have kids, I'm pumping myself full of hormones and contemplating the insane costs of IVF but, this irresponsible, reckless, crappy excuse for a mother can have kids all day long" and go straight to "WTF!" Well, maybe I won't skip it. But shit, I'm bitter.



I guess what bothers me isn't just that she was nursing and driving, although that's enough. It's that she was nursing and talking on her cell phone and caring for other children and driving. Either this woman really doesn't have a handle on time management, or she just doesn't care. I just can't fathom the phone conversation that was so important that it had to take place while nursing and driving. I also can't imagine how hungry the baby must have been to have made it necessary to nurse right then. I'm not advocating letting a kid starve by any means, but c'mon, was waiting 10 minutes any more likely to kill the poor thing than the whole nursing/talking/driving situation? I'm tending to think, probably not. Were the other kids running so late for school she couldn't stop for a few minutes before walking out the door? I haven't even started on the endangerment to the other kids in the car.



This brings me back to my friend, who has a theory... The world would be a better place if everyone had to take a pill to have a baby, rather than have to take one to prevent having a baby. I wouldn't wish infertility on anyone (well, except maybe this broad), but I'm starting to see why she feels this way.

Clomid, again...

Everybody batten down the hatches. The Clomid cyclone is getting ready to take off!

OK, it wasn't that bad last time I used it, but I did get a little bitchy (beware...). I know, hard to imagine me being bitchy and unreasonable. HA! Poor G, I've been a bitchy mess for like a week now, and it's going to get worse, right when it should be getting better.

It wasn't meant to be, and other nonsense fertile people say

One of my friends from childhood, with whom I stay in contact, had a miscarriage this week. I feel terribly for her. Thinking about her and her experiences this week has reminded me of all the insanely stupid things fertile people say when they learn of either a miscarriage or other infertility issues. For this reason, I'm posting a guide of shit not to say to a woman who's just lost a child, and the response they should give you if you're stupid enough to say any of the following things. This also applies to general infertility as well...

1) It just wasn't meant to be: So, in effect you're saying that all of the pregnancies that end in abortion were meant to be. All of the children born into abusive homes and bad family situations, they were meant to be. You were meant to be, but the thing I wanted and loved above all else in the world wasn't meant to be. I don't think I want to talk to you anymore.

2) God has a plan or It's in God's hands, or anything else insinuating God doesn't want you to have a baby: Translation... God wanted my baby to die? God doesn't think I'd be a good mother, but the abortions and abused children they are God's plan? You must worship a different God than I do...

3) You'll get pregnant again, or it'll happen, just wait: I don't want to get pregnant again, I want my baby, the one who's precious little life has ended far too soon. It's not like a puppy, you can't just go get another one. There is not replacement for the one that died.

4) At least you weren't further along: What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Seriously. My baby was somehow less of a baby because he/she was only 10 weeks gestation instead of 20? Without a doubt it's much harder to deal with a miscarriage after you've heard the heartbeat, but seriously, do babies get more real somehow as they get bigger? Just because you didn't love and care for and feel it growing doesn't mean I didn't, asshole.

OK, that is my reaction to these comments, although from speaking with others in similar situations, I can say I do not stand alone in feeling this way... So what do you say to a woman who's precious child has died before she's even had the chance to hold him/her?

"Wow, I am so sorry. I know there is nothing I can do to erase the pain of losing a child, but if you need anything, I'm here for you. If you want to talk, I'm glad to listen, and if you don't, that's OK, too. I am so sorry"

That's it.