Well here we are, day 8 of my cycle. We decided to once again skip a cycle. My partner and I have come a long way in terms of the urgency to continue back-to-back IUI's. This month's challenge: to take or not to take a summer vacation. In just a few weeks, I will be traveling to Miami for a whole week to attend a seminar. Unfortunately, we can only afford to either do an IUI or have my partner travel with me. I left the decision up to her; I didn't want to influence her priority. After much discussion and a little advice from some friends, we decided a vacation was in order. I'm glad she'll be with me in Miami. A huge reason I'm going is to sit for a test potentially giving me national certification as a floral designer; it's a big deal for my career and it will be wonderful to have my rock with me.
This will be our third month in a row off from baby-making. I don't know what it is, but I've had a few noteworthy experiences with men and babies during this time. You might remember a few months ago my pal from CVS; a young, hopeful father who was emotionally struggling with his own infertility challenges with his wife. I could tell how badly he wanted pregnancy to happen for them (and sense his nervousness and helplessness), but could also see that they had real infertility challenges to overcome.
Then, there is one of my co-workers. He is a new father; their baby was born just a couple months ago. Throughout their entire pregnancy, he was excited and totally amped up. And now that their little girl is here, he beams with pride. The other day he brought her to work to have lunch with his mother-in-law. I ran into him outside. It was another beautiful, amazing day in the north country with just perfect weather. The group of girls I was with asked him 'So how are you liking it so far?' I don't think anyone could have smacked the smile off his face. My face hurt just looking at his flexed cheeks. He just loves every minute of it.
And lastly, there is my mechanic. I drive a lot, about 150 miles a day, so I get my oil changed about once every 6 weeks. He works at a large dealership and does other side jobs after hours. A couple oil changes ago, he mentioned to me that they we expecting their second child. Ever since that weeknight after work, our oil changes are sort of like joint pregnancy therapy sessions. He is truly a guys sort of guy, but I know that he is stressed out about having another baby. How to pay for everything, how to start all over with an infant, the stress it can put on a relationship, how to learn again to identify the needs of a baby and if there's something wrong....they can't just tell you how they feel!! I know he's a great father for their daughter, but who would have thought that he carried so much stress about having another?
It all makes me think about that day a few months ago that I sat in my PCP's office crying over my own pregnancy stresses. She said something that has stuck with me. 'It's amazing how people, whether men or women, gay or straight, cope with pregnancy and babies in general.' Babies are at the root of our very being. We strive to reproduce. It is viewed as an achievement in life. Everyone has their concerns, but I agree, what's really interesting is how certain concerns match up with certain genders and sexual preferences. Women have different stresses than men. Gay women have different stresses than straight women. But, gay couples still have the same concerns as straight couples, we just cope with them differently. Even though we're lesbians, one of us (or both in some cases) share these somewhat male emotions of feeling helpless and disconnected in the fertility process, beaming with pride at the thought of a baby, or feeling worried about providing for and developing a small life. Simply put, babies screw with everyone's mental state equally; there is no discrimination or minority here.
Subscribe To
Posts
All Comments
Showing posts with label Normal preggo lesbo follies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Normal preggo lesbo follies. Show all posts
Monday, June 4, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
My glass is half full of gin and tonic.
Optimism is something that several of you have commented on recently. You say, 'Gee, you're so optimistic through all of this, even though you're having challenges.' Well, let me be the first to tell you that is a load of crap and there aren't any daisies growing out of it.
In our relationship I am always the one to be positive for the long-haul. My partner is a little impatient....(those of you who know her, breathe, stop laughing so hard, you might hurt yourself). It's not that she is insensitive or thoughtless of my feelings or others, on the contrary (just the other day, she got out of her car on a busy street, ran over to the local police department and asked some poor cop to come out and direct traffic so that a duck family could cross the road). It's just that we both assumed that we would be pregnant by now and it's starting to take a toll on us (and she is usually the first to express it...and often). For the record, I have all of these same, negative feelings, but my process for dealing with them isn't so immediate. I rein them in at the moment, suppress them, dwell on them, and then add them to my fire for later use.
We live in a fairly middle class neighborhood that is only steps from the hood ('hood' is a relative term in central NH I get it, but it's the only hood we have). It is hard to watch half-naked teenage girls smoking cigarettes, walking their babies down the street with their skinny-ass, drug-dealing boyfriends in tow. Having a baby was clearly easy for them. What can I say? They don't know any different; their mother probably had them when she was 15 too. We live in the northeast; it's not like the bible belt and there's a shortage of birth control or condoms. I too was a teenager once, and I'm not perfect. I started smoking when I was 17 and it was awesome. I had dreams of running away with my queer little band geek friends somewhere where my mother couldn't tell me that I can't be gay because I'd never make it financially without a man (why the fuck didn't we for real do this? LOL). I am stereotyping and assuming the aspirations of these hopefully/somewhat/a little/barely driven adolescents in my town, but even if you are a Fertile Myrtle, don't act like you've never had these thoughts when walking through the Walmart in your white hood.
Instead of sharing these or any other depressing, negative thoughts with all of you on a regular basis, I choose to be optimistic, informative for those who may not be as far along in the process are we are, and hopefully a little humorous. Ultimately, I'd rather be drinking gin and tonic and not pregnant than smoking and banging some shithead little boy. Gross.
I very much appreciate all of your positive comments. Just know that there is a normal, judgemental, selfish person somewhere beneath all of this optimism.
Eventually we'll have a baby, my love. I just know it.
In our relationship I am always the one to be positive for the long-haul. My partner is a little impatient....(those of you who know her, breathe, stop laughing so hard, you might hurt yourself). It's not that she is insensitive or thoughtless of my feelings or others, on the contrary (just the other day, she got out of her car on a busy street, ran over to the local police department and asked some poor cop to come out and direct traffic so that a duck family could cross the road). It's just that we both assumed that we would be pregnant by now and it's starting to take a toll on us (and she is usually the first to express it...and often). For the record, I have all of these same, negative feelings, but my process for dealing with them isn't so immediate. I rein them in at the moment, suppress them, dwell on them, and then add them to my fire for later use.
We live in a fairly middle class neighborhood that is only steps from the hood ('hood' is a relative term in central NH I get it, but it's the only hood we have). It is hard to watch half-naked teenage girls smoking cigarettes, walking their babies down the street with their skinny-ass, drug-dealing boyfriends in tow. Having a baby was clearly easy for them. What can I say? They don't know any different; their mother probably had them when she was 15 too. We live in the northeast; it's not like the bible belt and there's a shortage of birth control or condoms. I too was a teenager once, and I'm not perfect. I started smoking when I was 17 and it was awesome. I had dreams of running away with my queer little band geek friends somewhere where my mother couldn't tell me that I can't be gay because I'd never make it financially without a man (why the fuck didn't we for real do this? LOL). I am stereotyping and assuming the aspirations of these hopefully/somewhat/a little/barely driven adolescents in my town, but even if you are a Fertile Myrtle, don't act like you've never had these thoughts when walking through the Walmart in your white hood.
Instead of sharing these or any other depressing, negative thoughts with all of you on a regular basis, I choose to be optimistic, informative for those who may not be as far along in the process are we are, and hopefully a little humorous. Ultimately, I'd rather be drinking gin and tonic and not pregnant than smoking and banging some shithead little boy. Gross.
I very much appreciate all of your positive comments. Just know that there is a normal, judgemental, selfish person somewhere beneath all of this optimism.
Eventually we'll have a baby, my love. I just know it.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Hey, it's me. Sorry.
I don't even know where I left off, and no, I didn't go back and read my previous post from weeks ago. So, that said, I'll just give you the current run-down.
After IUI #10, we more seriously considered IVF and decided that it just wasn't in our financial future. That was March I think. In April, we decided to take a month off so that our checking account could recover from the winter's many oil bills and birthday-month Jeep repairs and registration (happy birthday to us, state of NH DOT). Now it's May and I will start my period in about two weeks. Let the baby-making re-commence.
I haven't used our beautiful MacBook Pro in a few days. Last night I said to my partner, 'I noticed that you got red wine all over everything...it's on the coffee table and on the floor all the way into the kitchen.' She replied, 'well, that's because I dumped an entire glass of red wine on the computer.'
Deep breath in, exhale out.
'Really.'
'Yeah, and now the keyboard is fucked up and the back-lighting doesn't work.'
'Great.'
Now I think I'm on my way to a Mac Store's fix-it bar thingy since I am literally pounding the keys to get them to work...and the mouse pad really isn't doing anything.
See you in a couple weeks....
After IUI #10, we more seriously considered IVF and decided that it just wasn't in our financial future. That was March I think. In April, we decided to take a month off so that our checking account could recover from the winter's many oil bills and birthday-month Jeep repairs and registration (happy birthday to us, state of NH DOT). Now it's May and I will start my period in about two weeks. Let the baby-making re-commence.
I haven't used our beautiful MacBook Pro in a few days. Last night I said to my partner, 'I noticed that you got red wine all over everything...it's on the coffee table and on the floor all the way into the kitchen.' She replied, 'well, that's because I dumped an entire glass of red wine on the computer.'
Deep breath in, exhale out.
'Really.'
'Yeah, and now the keyboard is fucked up and the back-lighting doesn't work.'
'Great.'
Now I think I'm on my way to a Mac Store's fix-it bar thingy since I am literally pounding the keys to get them to work...and the mouse pad really isn't doing anything.
See you in a couple weeks....
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Loser sperm: balls over brains
We decided to change sperm donors for our most recent attempt. This will be our 4th donor I think?? Lost count I guess. Well, let's go back, donor #1 was a chiropractor from California Cryobank, donor #2 was a rocket scientist (literally) also CC, donor #3 was the molecular biologist from Midwest Sperm Bank, and yes, donor #4 is also from Midwest.
One of these things is not like the other. One of these things is really not the same.
We'd been talking about changing donors for days. Finally, we were sitting on the couch watching TV at like 9:30 at night and she's like, 'hey, I thought we were going to change donors this time?'
'Yeah, get on the website and pick one.'
Literally two minutes later, 'okay buy this one.'
This was very quick for my partner, who is the one obsessed with the donor selection. When I asked what his deal was, she said, 'I think he's a loser. Maybe he has viable sperm.'
Donor #4 is officially our first non-advanced degree, science or math professional. I think he has a high school education and likes skateboarding. He might have red hair. Maybe he smokes a little weed. Not a lot of weed, that would be bad for sperm count. He's just relaxed and has no responsibilities! He sounds refreshing! Hopefully he's a little smart, somewhere, deep down inside. But hey, if I gave birth to the next Tony Hawk or Shawn White, that would be awesome too. I guess it's fine if the kid doesn't go to MIT on a scholarship.
'Okay, perfect.'
One of these things is not like the other. One of these things is really not the same.
We'd been talking about changing donors for days. Finally, we were sitting on the couch watching TV at like 9:30 at night and she's like, 'hey, I thought we were going to change donors this time?'
'Yeah, get on the website and pick one.'
Literally two minutes later, 'okay buy this one.'
This was very quick for my partner, who is the one obsessed with the donor selection. When I asked what his deal was, she said, 'I think he's a loser. Maybe he has viable sperm.'
Donor #4 is officially our first non-advanced degree, science or math professional. I think he has a high school education and likes skateboarding. He might have red hair. Maybe he smokes a little weed. Not a lot of weed, that would be bad for sperm count. He's just relaxed and has no responsibilities! He sounds refreshing! Hopefully he's a little smart, somewhere, deep down inside. But hey, if I gave birth to the next Tony Hawk or Shawn White, that would be awesome too. I guess it's fine if the kid doesn't go to MIT on a scholarship.
'Okay, perfect.'
Sunday, March 18, 2012
super sound...ultra un-sound
I am in love with March so far. I can't get over the weather. It is so freakin' nice! Today we were cruising around with the top down on the grape ape (she's our jeep wrangler, duh...we are a couple lesbians after all. You didn't think it was our camero did you?) soaking up the sun. We raked our yard, which is now currently the earliest we've ever been able to! I am feeling mentally well, emotionally fit, and physically happy. I am feeling sound for the first time in months.
Except for our ultrasound last Friday.
For the second time, we went in for an ultrasound to hunt down my little follicle eggies and see when I should trigger my ovulation with the Ovidrel injection. I wasn't really paying attention this time, sort of just chatting with the nurse while she quite literally 'probed' me with her probe. She mentioned some test, had I done it? I said no, I hadn't. The conversation continued.
Later that day when I got a voicemail from my doctor (not my nurse, red flag), I realized that the ultrasound lady saw something that morning (hence the reason she asked me about that test). The doctor said that there is a large cyst in my ovary that she was unsure of. Was it a follicle and not a cyst? Hard to tell. She sent me to get blood work to determine if it was in fact a huge ass egg. She also said there were two small polyps. All of this caught me off guard at the time. I don't really know much about either cysts or polyps. She said that we shouldn't hold off on our impending IUI, but that we should come in and discuss this with her. So, off I went to get stabbed again. Hard to believe I have any blood left at this point!
Blood work came back negative. Not an egg. The doctor had me wait until last night to do the Ovidrel. I am almost a pro now that I've injected myself twice. I joke and say that I could be a heroin addict now that I know how to do self-injections. My partner says I can't; we're too poor from all this non-baby-making to be doing heroin.
IUI #10 is tomorrow morning. As I sit here on the patio, enjoying the weather and catching a buzz off a single, fine, twisted tea, I think I'll be okay without the heroin.
Except for our ultrasound last Friday.
For the second time, we went in for an ultrasound to hunt down my little follicle eggies and see when I should trigger my ovulation with the Ovidrel injection. I wasn't really paying attention this time, sort of just chatting with the nurse while she quite literally 'probed' me with her probe. She mentioned some test, had I done it? I said no, I hadn't. The conversation continued.
Later that day when I got a voicemail from my doctor (not my nurse, red flag), I realized that the ultrasound lady saw something that morning (hence the reason she asked me about that test). The doctor said that there is a large cyst in my ovary that she was unsure of. Was it a follicle and not a cyst? Hard to tell. She sent me to get blood work to determine if it was in fact a huge ass egg. She also said there were two small polyps. All of this caught me off guard at the time. I don't really know much about either cysts or polyps. She said that we shouldn't hold off on our impending IUI, but that we should come in and discuss this with her. So, off I went to get stabbed again. Hard to believe I have any blood left at this point!
Blood work came back negative. Not an egg. The doctor had me wait until last night to do the Ovidrel. I am almost a pro now that I've injected myself twice. I joke and say that I could be a heroin addict now that I know how to do self-injections. My partner says I can't; we're too poor from all this non-baby-making to be doing heroin.
IUI #10 is tomorrow morning. As I sit here on the patio, enjoying the weather and catching a buzz off a single, fine, twisted tea, I think I'll be okay without the heroin.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Lesbians at the Ladies Luncheon
We tested on Saturday....not pregnant. Just before we tested, my partner was very tense. She would much rather that I don't tinkle on the stick and just wait for my period to either start or not. I was excited to test. How could I possibly wait any longer to know the outcome of our patience. One way or another I would be happy; either with baby in belly or with cocktail in hand.
It takes forever for that stupid flashing hour glass to change to words. We sat silently and waited. When 'not' showed up in front of 'pregnant', my heart sank and I went from optimistic to sad and frustrated pretty quick. My partner, on the other hand, switched from pessimistic to optimistic, lecturing me about how we'll get 'em next time, and it will happen when it happens. She even went as far as to say that if it never happened, it would be okay. The miniature martini that she made for me sat mostly full and was mostly dumped out at the end of the night. I did, however, enjoy the gin-soaked olives.
This emotional transition is typical. I am always smiling going into the bathroom, while my partner is freaking out. And then, we switch. I tried to explain to her that I would much rather she embrace her current emotion and be pissed off instead of going into 'we'll get 'em next time' mode. She thinks that she's protecting and supporting me by basically hiding her real emotions. When I finally get her to knock it off, she lets it rip. Frustration, anger, sadness. We agree on our emotions, finally.
Sunday we woke up to our typical routine of CBS news programing. Around noon, we finally decided that we should get ready to go to our neighborhood ladies gathering. After all, we were supposed to be bringing something, and that something had yet to be created.
As lesbians, being invited to a neighborhood ladies gathering is somewhat odd. Our neighbors across the street came over one day and handed us the invite. At that moment, I knew we had to go. We envisioned a group of red hat society women sitting around a lace-clad table with ornate china tea cups, and I had to know if this was the case.
Now it was about a quarter til the party was supposed to start. Still no snack to bring. Being the Betty Crocker lesbians we are, we decided to go to the store and get a block of cheese and a box of crackers.
I am so glad we went! It was not a group of ancient women. We met some really great people that live just a short walk away. One of them has a husband who is an adoption lawyer, which will come in handy since our original lawyer refuses to return my phone calls. I can see that this summer, we'll have fun hanging out with several of them.
Today, I'm back to being optimistic about our next round. But I haven't even started my period yet.
It takes forever for that stupid flashing hour glass to change to words. We sat silently and waited. When 'not' showed up in front of 'pregnant', my heart sank and I went from optimistic to sad and frustrated pretty quick. My partner, on the other hand, switched from pessimistic to optimistic, lecturing me about how we'll get 'em next time, and it will happen when it happens. She even went as far as to say that if it never happened, it would be okay. The miniature martini that she made for me sat mostly full and was mostly dumped out at the end of the night. I did, however, enjoy the gin-soaked olives.
This emotional transition is typical. I am always smiling going into the bathroom, while my partner is freaking out. And then, we switch. I tried to explain to her that I would much rather she embrace her current emotion and be pissed off instead of going into 'we'll get 'em next time' mode. She thinks that she's protecting and supporting me by basically hiding her real emotions. When I finally get her to knock it off, she lets it rip. Frustration, anger, sadness. We agree on our emotions, finally.
Sunday we woke up to our typical routine of CBS news programing. Around noon, we finally decided that we should get ready to go to our neighborhood ladies gathering. After all, we were supposed to be bringing something, and that something had yet to be created.
As lesbians, being invited to a neighborhood ladies gathering is somewhat odd. Our neighbors across the street came over one day and handed us the invite. At that moment, I knew we had to go. We envisioned a group of red hat society women sitting around a lace-clad table with ornate china tea cups, and I had to know if this was the case.
Now it was about a quarter til the party was supposed to start. Still no snack to bring. Being the Betty Crocker lesbians we are, we decided to go to the store and get a block of cheese and a box of crackers.
I am so glad we went! It was not a group of ancient women. We met some really great people that live just a short walk away. One of them has a husband who is an adoption lawyer, which will come in handy since our original lawyer refuses to return my phone calls. I can see that this summer, we'll have fun hanging out with several of them.
Today, I'm back to being optimistic about our next round. But I haven't even started my period yet.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Shrunk down to size
Today is the day that my partner has been waiting for; the day I go to a psychologist and get all my emotional crap out on the table. It's going to be one of those days I think....following my appointment, I'm going for a pap smear. Great. More probing.
Originally, I was going to go for some counseling after Jack died. That was the frosting on my delicate cake (baby-making stress, concussion stress, work stress...). At the time, I chose not to talk about it here on my blog. I made the appointment and was rarin' to go, but had to cancel it (that was a couple months ago, the day we went in for the HSG). And now, I've finally decided that in fact I should reschedule the appointment and go. Life has caught up with me, and I need a little guidance.
My partner is very supportive. She truly is my rock. But she has trouble herself coping if I start to get a little panicked or worrisome. She has encouraged me to go and see a professional, even if I'm a little hesitant.
I have never thought that I would be that person who needs counseling. It's not how I was raised, it's not what I witnessed in any of my friends or their families. But what I've come to realize is that it doesn't make me a weaker person; it makes me real. No one talks about their struggles and getting help because everyone thinks that no one else can empathize with their situation. No one else has been there and everyone will judge you. It's a huge reason why I started this blog; there are many people who have been there, and we should share our experiences instead of hiding them. No one is going to put a giant red letter on me or anyone I care about no matter their experience.
Now, if only I had the balls to tell my mother I was going to a shrink.
Originally, I was going to go for some counseling after Jack died. That was the frosting on my delicate cake (baby-making stress, concussion stress, work stress...). At the time, I chose not to talk about it here on my blog. I made the appointment and was rarin' to go, but had to cancel it (that was a couple months ago, the day we went in for the HSG). And now, I've finally decided that in fact I should reschedule the appointment and go. Life has caught up with me, and I need a little guidance.
My partner is very supportive. She truly is my rock. But she has trouble herself coping if I start to get a little panicked or worrisome. She has encouraged me to go and see a professional, even if I'm a little hesitant.
I have never thought that I would be that person who needs counseling. It's not how I was raised, it's not what I witnessed in any of my friends or their families. But what I've come to realize is that it doesn't make me a weaker person; it makes me real. No one talks about their struggles and getting help because everyone thinks that no one else can empathize with their situation. No one else has been there and everyone will judge you. It's a huge reason why I started this blog; there are many people who have been there, and we should share our experiences instead of hiding them. No one is going to put a giant red letter on me or anyone I care about no matter their experience.
Now, if only I had the balls to tell my mother I was going to a shrink.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Love, Romance and the IUI, 8th edition.
Yesterday was IUI #8...and it only took me, my partner, and an army of nurses to make the magic happen.
You all know how much I love Clomid and can't wait to take more drugs, but what I didn't know was that by taking clomid and stimulating my ovaries, they were swelling up and pushing against my uterus making it harder for the nurses to insert the catheter up in there. Another reason to love clomid. Thirty minutes later with three nurses, speculum in, speculum out, fishing around up in there later, changing positions and pushing here, no try there, I am hopefully baking us a baby.
Nurse #1 was the same lady who did IUI #7. She adamantly tried her favorite catheter first, then her second favorite, and then her third favorite, the mac daddy catheter known as 'the rocket' (shouldn't anything known as 'the rocket' be the first choice???).
Nurse #2 was a newbe and mostly just stood back and observed and made weird comments like 'they should use the back seat of a car as the table since that's where couples always had the most success getting pregant in the 50's' and 'you know you can wear socks if your feet are cold' and 'when you come back next time, wear socks.' My parter was like 'next time? There won't be a next time, right!?' 'Oh,' nurse #2 says, 'you're not planning on having another [child]?" Weird...she didn't pay attention in that class apparantly.
'How ya doin', babe?'
'Fine.'
Nurse #3 had never helped us before, but I've spoken with her on the phone, so we were sort of familiar. She came in all confident, claiming that 'the rocket' is her go-to catheter. Rocket in hand, she fished and fished and finally, when she was just about to give up and go get a doctor, it worked. Now lay still for 10 minutes, think happy thoughts, and stare up at the florescent light with flowers and blue sky painted over it. Turn head, look at partner, and say 'get your butt over here and kiss me at least, will ya?' I love her so much.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Relax, bug eye, you're making me nuts.
Last night as I told my partner that I'd started my period earlier in the day, we got into our now once-monthly argument over what we can do to improve our chances of pregnancy. As mentioned earlier, patience is not a virtue that she holds dearly. She was insisting that I call the nurse (as I would anyway at this point to let her know that I'm in fact not pregnant) and list off a bunch of questions about what we're doing/not doing and to make sure that there's nothing else we should be doing. She also has this thing about meningitis. When I was nine I had a form of meningitis, and she's convinced it has raised my body temperature permanently, decreasing our chances of pregnancy (not the case, solid 98.6). We have asked the question before; she won't let it go.
I tell her that I can't go on like this. I refuse to ask these questions every, single month. I think that we both need to just stop with the crazy proactivity and let nature take it's course. The only valid question that we might have is to ask about the difference between clomid and letrozole once more and see if it could be a good option for me....clomid=crazy bitch, letrozole I'm sure=different list of similar side effects. But perhaps I will bring this up to the nurse today when I call.
'I feel so vulnerable. I am the third party,' she says. She is sort of out of the loop, I suppose. I make all the phone calls, send all the emails, talk to the nurses, order the sperm. 'If you want to be a part of the process, you actually need to do something. Why don't you make the phone call tomorrow, then you can ask your questions?' Same conversation we had last month. We decide that I will make the phone call since I can explain how I feel with the clomid better than she can. I promise to repeat verbatim my conversation with the nurse instead of abbreviating like I normally do. Same resolution as last month.
'This is really hard, really hard,' I say to her. 'But I don't want you to feel left out, your shouldn't. You are just as important in this process as I am.' It's taken probably 15 minutes to get to this point. We both calm down.
Finally, we pause. Sarcasm takes over. I tell her that I'm also going to ask the nurse for a prescription horse tranquilizer that she can take on days 27-30 of my cycle.
I tell her that I can't go on like this. I refuse to ask these questions every, single month. I think that we both need to just stop with the crazy proactivity and let nature take it's course. The only valid question that we might have is to ask about the difference between clomid and letrozole once more and see if it could be a good option for me....clomid=crazy bitch, letrozole I'm sure=different list of similar side effects. But perhaps I will bring this up to the nurse today when I call.
'I feel so vulnerable. I am the third party,' she says. She is sort of out of the loop, I suppose. I make all the phone calls, send all the emails, talk to the nurses, order the sperm. 'If you want to be a part of the process, you actually need to do something. Why don't you make the phone call tomorrow, then you can ask your questions?' Same conversation we had last month. We decide that I will make the phone call since I can explain how I feel with the clomid better than she can. I promise to repeat verbatim my conversation with the nurse instead of abbreviating like I normally do. Same resolution as last month.
'This is really hard, really hard,' I say to her. 'But I don't want you to feel left out, your shouldn't. You are just as important in this process as I am.' It's taken probably 15 minutes to get to this point. We both calm down.
Finally, we pause. Sarcasm takes over. I tell her that I'm also going to ask the nurse for a prescription horse tranquilizer that she can take on days 27-30 of my cycle.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
yet another 2 week cleanse......
This two week wait thing is for the birds. It's been one week today since our last IUI and I am in that mid-wait mentality of total neutrality. Could be pregnant, might not be pregnant, remain neutral so I am not to get hurt either way.
I've been of course trying to act as though I am pregnant and have been eating and drinking like a champ. Fruits, nuts, vegetables, water, herbal tea; it feels more like a once-monthly two-week cleanse (since that's what it's been up until this point). Yesterday was our one day this week together and we went out to lunch following our super-lesbo trip to Lowe's (it is totally our guilty pleasure to go walk the aisles and get ideas about home improvement...). Our weekly lunch out is always full of delicious saturated fat and calories, but I somehow managed a tasty salad into the mix. And then we hit the RedBox and got a cheap, scratched, rental dvd....the final Harry Potter. I have a hard enough time understanding what they're saying let alone if the dvd is scratched.....never have really been a big Potter fan, but it was good to see the end of the saga.
One more week to go! Distractions, please apply within.
I've been of course trying to act as though I am pregnant and have been eating and drinking like a champ. Fruits, nuts, vegetables, water, herbal tea; it feels more like a once-monthly two-week cleanse (since that's what it's been up until this point). Yesterday was our one day this week together and we went out to lunch following our super-lesbo trip to Lowe's (it is totally our guilty pleasure to go walk the aisles and get ideas about home improvement...). Our weekly lunch out is always full of delicious saturated fat and calories, but I somehow managed a tasty salad into the mix. And then we hit the RedBox and got a cheap, scratched, rental dvd....the final Harry Potter. I have a hard enough time understanding what they're saying let alone if the dvd is scratched.....never have really been a big Potter fan, but it was good to see the end of the saga.
One more week to go! Distractions, please apply within.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
it's the most wonderful time of the year
Alrighty. Hope this doesn't get long-winded. There is a lot of crap to cover.
The vacation we took the first week of December was good. We went to Memphis to visit my partner's family. It was so nice to get away and see different faces and catch up with her brother's two kids. They are so freakin cute.....a little girl who's 2 1/2 and a little boy who's 10 months. Everything was great, except perhaps the last day of our trip when our THREE-leg plane ride was delayed TWICE. Let's just say this: by the last day of the trip, we're always ready to get home. Not just for sake of being home, but to get some of our own personal time as well. The 12+ hour day in the airport(s) included some agitation and nagging and probably too much eating and drinking, and we were both glad when it was over.
December is that time of the year when everyone you know (and some people that you forgot you know) sends you a photo card of their family. Could be a picture of their dogs or their flock of children. But really, we're not resentful......the Christmas Spirit never came to our house this year. No tree, no decorations, no cards, no nothing. It all stayed in the basement. One of my co-workers asked me which I disliked more, Christmas, or full-on wedding season. I quickly said Christmas. I am so bah-humbug right now that I don't even want to leave my ground-level workspace to ascend the lobby and see the decorations. Flip side, I could make bridal bouquets all day (and do in August).
My partner did surprise me with a little Christmas Eve dinner. I got home from work and there she was, laying it all out, Christmas music on, candles lit. It was a wonderful surprise.
On Christmas Day we went to my parent's house, which has become a rather regular thing. She calls it 'groundhog day' due to the regularity of not just the trip itself, but the whole experience. Same people, same food, same inter-family business. Oh, and many of the same gifts as regularly given each year. My sister was supposed to come with her husband and baby, but they couldn't make it. She is in the early stages of being pregnant again and having horrid morning sickness (she just announced this a few days ago). Although I would have enjoyed seeing my nephew, I am sort of okay with them staying home. Neither of us are in the mood for a full day of 'oh, I'm so excited for you.' Again, I am not resentful......just maybe a little bit disappointed that she calls me all excited and happy and barely asks me how my process is going.
But for some reason, the overall vibe of Christmas this year was a little different. On the car ride home, my partner said that she really enjoyed herself. There was no complaining about how we should have left hours ago or that someone drove her nuts. Instead, we talked about the good things that happened and funny things discussed during the day. Well, of course we covered the funny-bad things that were discussed as well, but you get my point. Overall, it was a different experience than usual.
And finally, after much waiting and anticipation, yesterday we went for IUI #7 (clomid this cycle). Lucky number 7. Our fav OB nurse was out yesterday, and her replacement was not, how should I say this, gentle. Ouchies in my hoo-haa. After my probing, we went out to dinner.....sushi for the last time for a while, right!? I had my last sips of booze for a while as well....gross, luke-warm sake. Memorable, truly.
The vacation we took the first week of December was good. We went to Memphis to visit my partner's family. It was so nice to get away and see different faces and catch up with her brother's two kids. They are so freakin cute.....a little girl who's 2 1/2 and a little boy who's 10 months. Everything was great, except perhaps the last day of our trip when our THREE-leg plane ride was delayed TWICE. Let's just say this: by the last day of the trip, we're always ready to get home. Not just for sake of being home, but to get some of our own personal time as well. The 12+ hour day in the airport(s) included some agitation and nagging and probably too much eating and drinking, and we were both glad when it was over.
December is that time of the year when everyone you know (and some people that you forgot you know) sends you a photo card of their family. Could be a picture of their dogs or their flock of children. But really, we're not resentful......the Christmas Spirit never came to our house this year. No tree, no decorations, no cards, no nothing. It all stayed in the basement. One of my co-workers asked me which I disliked more, Christmas, or full-on wedding season. I quickly said Christmas. I am so bah-humbug right now that I don't even want to leave my ground-level workspace to ascend the lobby and see the decorations. Flip side, I could make bridal bouquets all day (and do in August).
My partner did surprise me with a little Christmas Eve dinner. I got home from work and there she was, laying it all out, Christmas music on, candles lit. It was a wonderful surprise.
On Christmas Day we went to my parent's house, which has become a rather regular thing. She calls it 'groundhog day' due to the regularity of not just the trip itself, but the whole experience. Same people, same food, same inter-family business. Oh, and many of the same gifts as regularly given each year. My sister was supposed to come with her husband and baby, but they couldn't make it. She is in the early stages of being pregnant again and having horrid morning sickness (she just announced this a few days ago). Although I would have enjoyed seeing my nephew, I am sort of okay with them staying home. Neither of us are in the mood for a full day of 'oh, I'm so excited for you.' Again, I am not resentful......just maybe a little bit disappointed that she calls me all excited and happy and barely asks me how my process is going.
But for some reason, the overall vibe of Christmas this year was a little different. On the car ride home, my partner said that she really enjoyed herself. There was no complaining about how we should have left hours ago or that someone drove her nuts. Instead, we talked about the good things that happened and funny things discussed during the day. Well, of course we covered the funny-bad things that were discussed as well, but you get my point. Overall, it was a different experience than usual.
And finally, after much waiting and anticipation, yesterday we went for IUI #7 (clomid this cycle). Lucky number 7. Our fav OB nurse was out yesterday, and her replacement was not, how should I say this, gentle. Ouchies in my hoo-haa. After my probing, we went out to dinner.....sushi for the last time for a while, right!? I had my last sips of booze for a while as well....gross, luke-warm sake. Memorable, truly.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Our prescription: Patience.
There is something to be said about patience and my partner's lack there of. All good things come in due time. What goes around comes around. There's no use crying over spilled milk.
She prefers: The early bird gets the worm. You get what you pay for.
It is a challenging dynamic that we work together on daily in every aspect of our lives. I tend to be the more patient, laid-back half while she paces and strategizes about our next career/life moves. This is not always an easy combination of personalities. I will get angry and say that she is too neurotic and needs to calm down and appreciate the moment, while she will get bitter and say that I'm not proactive and I don't care enough.
I love grocery shopping, but not with her. I love walking down the aisles and picking up packages, reading the labels, thinking about what I could make and interesting flavor combinations. She, on the other hand, cannot stand the thought of being there in the chaos of Sunday afternoon and speed walks the length of the store, iPhone in hand with list. And then, when we're almost to the other end of the store, she'll say something like, 'I forgot the salsa. You take the cart and get in line and I'll meet you there,' as if beating the other people in the store who are just racing to the checkout was a matter of life or death.
This is not to say that I am perfect in my laxidasical approach to life. I would much rather relax in the morning on my days off, leaving any and all errands and tasks for the afternoon. Problem with that? I run out of time. By the time dinner rolls around, I'm still running about taking care of whatever it is that I should have finished already. My tasks run into the evening sometimes....all because I spent too much time drinking coffee, facebooking or blogging or talk-show watching. Why don't I do my errands and tasks first so I can be done with everything earlier?
Let's bring it back to baby-making. I try very hard to be optimistic and respect the fact that this is a process. She wants a baby now. We've done everything right. Why is it taking so long?
As we walked to our car following the doctor's appointment last week, I couldn't help feeling like a total moron. There I was with a crazy long list of questions and his response to many of them the same: be patient, it will take time. The false positive pregnancy test he said was nothing more than a faulty kit and it could've happened to anyone (why the hell our nurse contact couldn't tell us that, I don't know). Clomid has many side effects, some of which could actually be detrimental to baby-making (like reduced cervical mucus and a not-so-great uterine lining), so as a healthy woman who is ovulating regularly, it may not be helping (again, really? Contact couldn't tell us this?). The average heterosexual couple trying to get pregnant naturally has about a 25% chance of acheiving pregnancy in the average month. A couple using frozen sperm has about a 10% chance in an average month (and again, are you kidding me? Is our contact actually a registered nurse?). He gave us a better sense of the next stages of our journey: we'll do one more IUI without any drugs (for a total now of 6 attempts). If we don't get pregnant this time, we will do up to 4 more IUI's with either Clomid or Letrozole. If after that we're not pregnant, we'll consider IVF.
If nothing else, all of our somewhat simple questions were finally answered instead of skirted and avoided. Another tank of gas and a half day of work bites the dust. An email would have sufficed.
My period should start sometime in the next couple days. For the next two weeks, I am drinking coffee and relaxing for as much of that time as possible. Oh, and thinking proactively, for my partner's sake.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Longtime, Lovely, Live-in, Lady Lovers take it to the Doc.
Most of the time, it's just the five L's in the title of this post, but occasionally we throw in 'lustful' or 'luxorous' or whatever seems to fit at the moment. Today, I add 'list-making' to the lot. I think it sounds good after 'live-in', don't you think?
We have composed a short list really (as if that's possible) of questions to ask our doctor today at our 'long-awaited' appointment. Well, it's as short as we crazy lesbians could make it:
1). Why was the home pregnancy test positive? Does this mean that I was actually pregnant at one point?
2). Clomid:
a. Should I take the same dose again next time?
b. I had some weird symptoms like dizziness, tiredness, headaches and dehydration. Is this normal?
c. Letrozole vs. Clomid: should we switch it up?
3). For the last frickin time people, how the fuck much will any additional testing cost us? Can anyone tell us this?
4). Is there any significance in the fact that we are two women living together? Is my cycle being affected by the hormones during my partners cycle and potentially preventing my pregnancy/causing miscarriage? (Yes, this is a bit far-fetched, but we're going to ask it anyway. It does make sense. FYI our cycles are not synced. I did a little research on this and it is not unusual for cohabiting females cycle's to sync. However, specifically dealing with lesbian couples, once you've lived together for an extended period of time, your lives and stresses tend to grow more individual and your cycles return to normal).
5). How is progesterone affecting my cycle/ability to get pregnant?
6). Are you tired of us yet? We'll take your honest opinion here doc. All you have to do is get us pregnant and we'll leave you alone. :-)
Monday, September 26, 2011
A perfect day for sarcastic, lesbian humor
Another Monday morning of Internet surfing and GMA viewing. Now that Ellen is on at 4pm, my day-off TV mornings sort of suck. But today, I discovered a website that I've been on now for at least an hour. Please for the love of God, check out Autostraddle.
Apparently, I have been living under a giant lesbian rock since March of 2009 when this site was initiated (under 'About Us' it states that they have about 1.75 million hits each month...) Quirky, sarcastic, lesbian blogging has never been so funny. Topics include pop culture, politics, parenting and everything in between. A little bit of L Word meets Glee meets Nancy Pelosi. Best part: you just might pee in your pants a little.
In order to relate this site to my own purposes here on this blog, here are two posts on parenting:
How to live with Kids: Toys and Entertainment
How to live with Kids: Food and Cooking
And because I am a Gleek who is obsessed with the fantasy of an almost-entirely gay (or at the very least bi-curious) high school glee club, here is their recap on the season premiere:
The Purple Piano Project
I have no interest in summarizing these posts as I won't do the humor justice. You'll just need to read them for yourself.
And now that I've done my part to advertise for another blog, I should include a bit about my current hopefully preggo state. All day yesterday I had cramps. You know, those cramps that come around when you're mid-cycle and ovulating. A friendly reminder of the break we're taking from IUI's. Next Monday is our big meeting with the doctor. I can't wait. We are literally going to have 'lesbian pregnancy question diarrhea of the mouth.' Fun!
Have a great week everyone!
Apparently, I have been living under a giant lesbian rock since March of 2009 when this site was initiated (under 'About Us' it states that they have about 1.75 million hits each month...) Quirky, sarcastic, lesbian blogging has never been so funny. Topics include pop culture, politics, parenting and everything in between. A little bit of L Word meets Glee meets Nancy Pelosi. Best part: you just might pee in your pants a little.
In order to relate this site to my own purposes here on this blog, here are two posts on parenting:
How to live with Kids: Toys and Entertainment
How to live with Kids: Food and Cooking
And because I am a Gleek who is obsessed with the fantasy of an almost-entirely gay (or at the very least bi-curious) high school glee club, here is their recap on the season premiere:
The Purple Piano Project
I have no interest in summarizing these posts as I won't do the humor justice. You'll just need to read them for yourself.
And now that I've done my part to advertise for another blog, I should include a bit about my current hopefully preggo state. All day yesterday I had cramps. You know, those cramps that come around when you're mid-cycle and ovulating. A friendly reminder of the break we're taking from IUI's. Next Monday is our big meeting with the doctor. I can't wait. We are literally going to have 'lesbian pregnancy question diarrhea of the mouth.' Fun!
Have a great week everyone!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Marc Anthony Syndrome: it's more serious than you think
I've never met a lesbian who wasn't a little neurotic. Just even a little. Some more than others. We're so defiant as a whole, strong-headed, and we tend to take after the honey badger and just not give a shit. In our case, we also crave knowledge like the plague. We just need to know; my partner refers to this as 'Marc Anthony Syndrome', and then I typically get a little tidbit of the song sung to me in perfect pitch....he he. After my weekend of miscommunication, I've decided that I should give our Dartmouth contact a little break; after all, if she is the ring leader for a couple dozen lesbians, then she has her hands full and could potentially be completely consumed with hopefully preggo lesbos who need to know everything right now.
It is a small break, however. We sent her an email right away after our negative blood test with a whole new list of questions. As of today, we've come up with even more questions and situations to discuss. I had a long chat with her yesterday afternoon, and our conclusion is that we should come in and have a face-to-face with our doctor and get everything out at once. I love this idea.
Both our contact and our doctor are baffled by the fact that we had a positive at-home test and then a negative blood test. Typically, she said, it happens the other way around where people have a negative home test but are in fact pregnant. That being said, they are very curious to do some further testing. They suggested that we take the current cycle to meet with the doctor and do some testing and not do an IUI. At first I thought that was a bad idea, but the more we both thought about it, we decided it is best. Why should we throw away more money if in fact something is not jiving down there?
This break will give us a much-needed chance to catch our breath, calm down, save money, formulate a master list of questions for the doctor and chillax on the Marc Anthony Syndrome. *Sigh*, much better.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
not pregnant, pregnant, not pregnant
This is going to be a long post; my apologies now for being long-winded. I have a pumpkin beer helping me write, so I'm good. Go on, get yourself a cocktail.
Friday morning: Tinkle day. Both of us got up at 5am so that I could use my first tinkle of the day for the test. As I walked into the bathroom, I was thinking that something was up down there....period; a familiar spoogy sensation. I am literally half asleep, so I get the tinkle stick out anyway and pee on it. Less than a minute later, it says 'pregnant'. We are both a little dazed and confused (simply because it's 5am). My partner wears contacts and hasn't put them in yet. She has to put her face way up to the display screen to read the single word. It really says 'pregant,' not ' not pregnant.' We don't know what to think. I rationalize that maybe I'm just having a little light spotting. So we start our day as cautiously excited.
We go downstairs, make some coffee and write an email to our contact at Dartmouth. I go off to work.
By the time I get to the north country, I've got an email back from our contact. She wants us to tell her about the color of the blood and says that we should go in for a blood test. I write back.
It's Friday, and for those of you who get it, it's not the greatest day for me to have to leave work early. Or at all. But it never fails that we're going to have our IUI's and whatever else we need to do on Fridays. My body is playing sick games with me I think. It's not just ironic.
So I leave our contact a voicemail. Finally around noon she gets back to me. She asks me where I'd like to go to get my blood drawn and I say back somewhere near my house. We talk about the hospital which is minutes from my house. Fine, she'll set it up. 'Oh wait,' she says. 'Let's check your blood type. Oh, you're a negative blood type which means you'll need Rhogam.'
'What is Rhogam? Why do I need it?'
'Rhogam is a shot that women with negative blood types need when they first get pregnant, again at 28 weeks, and then again after birth only if the child has (a certain blood type that I can't recall).'
What I want to say is 'why the hell are you just now figuring this out when you've known my blood type since day one?' But, I digress. Same lack of communication, different day.
'Okay, so where can I get the shot?' We decide that she'll set it up for me to get my blood drawn at the local hospital and then if I'm in fact pregnant, go to my PCP for the shot. I am to wait until she gets back to me with more info.
She calls me back in a few minutes. Apparently my PCP takes an hour and a half for lunch, so she can't talk to them until 1:30pm. Are you serious? Who has that much time for lunch? Finally again, our contact calls back at 2pm. Still waiting to hear back from someone else regarding the blood work. We're in a holding pattern.
Finally, I just can't think clearly anymore at work. Must be around 3:00pm. I've got to get out of the north country or I'll never get back home before the end of business hours. I call our contact and tell her I'm headed down south. 'Any additional word?'
'No', she says. 'Still waiting'.
So I go home. Then I get a phone call at 4:45 from my PCP. They are wondering where I am. I am now just confused. I was waiting for more information, and never got it. My PCP asked if I'd had the blood work done yet. When I said no, she said I should get my butt to the hospital since their lab closes at 5pm. WHAT THE FUCK. No information. Huge communication breakdown on all parties.
I get to the lab at literally 4:55. They are trying to explain to me that I won't be able to get my lab results back today, which means that I'll have to wait until tomorrow to know if I need the Rhogam or not. But Saturday is not an option for a potential doctor's appointment that's 2 freakin hours from my job. Silly brides and their weddings.
The lab people have a private huddle and decide that they can stay late to do my test. Amazing, and so nice of them considering how long my day has been at this point. They said we should go home and they'll call me in an hour or two.
We go home. At this point, I'm fairly convinced that I'm not pregnant. My period is raging and the cramps are unbearable. When the phone rings, we put it on speaker and happily say 'hi'. The woman says 'Well, don't sound so excited. You're not pregnant.' It was a gentle let down, really. Not.
Shock. Tears. Confusion. Advil. In that order. Why was the at home test positive in the first place? Another email sent to our contact with a fresh list of questions.
I don't think Mother Nature likes me on Fridays. She is always screwing with them.
Friday morning: Tinkle day. Both of us got up at 5am so that I could use my first tinkle of the day for the test. As I walked into the bathroom, I was thinking that something was up down there....period; a familiar spoogy sensation. I am literally half asleep, so I get the tinkle stick out anyway and pee on it. Less than a minute later, it says 'pregnant'. We are both a little dazed and confused (simply because it's 5am). My partner wears contacts and hasn't put them in yet. She has to put her face way up to the display screen to read the single word. It really says 'pregant,' not ' not pregnant.' We don't know what to think. I rationalize that maybe I'm just having a little light spotting. So we start our day as cautiously excited.
We go downstairs, make some coffee and write an email to our contact at Dartmouth. I go off to work.
By the time I get to the north country, I've got an email back from our contact. She wants us to tell her about the color of the blood and says that we should go in for a blood test. I write back.
It's Friday, and for those of you who get it, it's not the greatest day for me to have to leave work early. Or at all. But it never fails that we're going to have our IUI's and whatever else we need to do on Fridays. My body is playing sick games with me I think. It's not just ironic.
So I leave our contact a voicemail. Finally around noon she gets back to me. She asks me where I'd like to go to get my blood drawn and I say back somewhere near my house. We talk about the hospital which is minutes from my house. Fine, she'll set it up. 'Oh wait,' she says. 'Let's check your blood type. Oh, you're a negative blood type which means you'll need Rhogam.'
'What is Rhogam? Why do I need it?'
'Rhogam is a shot that women with negative blood types need when they first get pregnant, again at 28 weeks, and then again after birth only if the child has (a certain blood type that I can't recall).'
What I want to say is 'why the hell are you just now figuring this out when you've known my blood type since day one?' But, I digress. Same lack of communication, different day.
'Okay, so where can I get the shot?' We decide that she'll set it up for me to get my blood drawn at the local hospital and then if I'm in fact pregnant, go to my PCP for the shot. I am to wait until she gets back to me with more info.
She calls me back in a few minutes. Apparently my PCP takes an hour and a half for lunch, so she can't talk to them until 1:30pm. Are you serious? Who has that much time for lunch? Finally again, our contact calls back at 2pm. Still waiting to hear back from someone else regarding the blood work. We're in a holding pattern.
Finally, I just can't think clearly anymore at work. Must be around 3:00pm. I've got to get out of the north country or I'll never get back home before the end of business hours. I call our contact and tell her I'm headed down south. 'Any additional word?'
'No', she says. 'Still waiting'.
So I go home. Then I get a phone call at 4:45 from my PCP. They are wondering where I am. I am now just confused. I was waiting for more information, and never got it. My PCP asked if I'd had the blood work done yet. When I said no, she said I should get my butt to the hospital since their lab closes at 5pm. WHAT THE FUCK. No information. Huge communication breakdown on all parties.
I get to the lab at literally 4:55. They are trying to explain to me that I won't be able to get my lab results back today, which means that I'll have to wait until tomorrow to know if I need the Rhogam or not. But Saturday is not an option for a potential doctor's appointment that's 2 freakin hours from my job. Silly brides and their weddings.
The lab people have a private huddle and decide that they can stay late to do my test. Amazing, and so nice of them considering how long my day has been at this point. They said we should go home and they'll call me in an hour or two.
We go home. At this point, I'm fairly convinced that I'm not pregnant. My period is raging and the cramps are unbearable. When the phone rings, we put it on speaker and happily say 'hi'. The woman says 'Well, don't sound so excited. You're not pregnant.' It was a gentle let down, really. Not.
Shock. Tears. Confusion. Advil. In that order. Why was the at home test positive in the first place? Another email sent to our contact with a fresh list of questions.
I don't think Mother Nature likes me on Fridays. She is always screwing with them.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Dizzy oddly still....
And still optimistic :-) Last night, another screwed up dizzy-fest. I have drank so much water today, you might think I'd float away, but I still feel dehydrated. Oh, and I am headed to bed shortly, so tired (it's 8:04pm now.....I think I'll go to bed as soon as I finish here...)
I can't help but compare how I feel to a few months ago with the concussion. It is so similar. It is exactly the same. Am I just having a weird relapse of symptoms? This pregnancy stuff is a total mind fuck. How many symptoms can I come up with to analyze, truly. And my poor partner has to listen to it...heehee. That is love.
I called my bestest bud tonight on my drive home (live free and/or die people). His kids are really little and it's fun to hear his tales of crazy, exausting parenthood. They're shopping for a mini-van....barf me sideways. With two kids and one on the way I suppose that is a necessity. Hopefully I can rock my Jetta/Cheap German Sportscar for a bit longer.
Friday can't come soon enough. I gotta know.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Say my name, what's my name?
You know you're in a normal, committed, lesbian relationship when you and your partner get into an argument about what you're going to be called as parents. But really, who gets to claim 'Mom' or 'Mommy'? How do you figure this out? Knock-down blow out, that's the healthy way.... hahahha.
Yesterday we went for our fifth IUI. We are very hopeful, as usual, but maybe a bit more this time since we introduced Clomid to my cycle. I am still ridiculously bloated, and after mentioning that to our fave IUI lady, she said that changes in my cycle would be totally normal. She said that it may even effect the length of my cycle, severity of cramps, etc. Information is so helpful. I could get used to this.
Later that night, as we watched TV and zoned out the days crazy events and discussed our treks all over the state of New Hampshire, we would occasionally pause and look into each other's eyes and hold hands and just think happy thoughts.
It was my mistake to say during one of these moment's of silence as I looked longingly into her eyes, 'What are we going to call you?'
She immediately responded, 'What do you mean, what are WE going to call YOU? What, are you and the baby going to come up with some name for me?'
'No, I mean what are you and I going to call each other?'
'I am not going to be called something stupid like 'Momma S' like 'Momma B' on the L Word. We are in this together 50/50.'
'That's not what I mean. Of course we're in this together.'
'So just because you're the one giving birth, you get to be called 'Mom'? The baby will come up with what it's going to call us.'
I was getting what I call 'bug eye' from her through our whole 'conversation'. Bug eye is this great expression she has that is totally glaring. I know when I get 'bug eye' that I am in trouble....It is challenging for both of us because this whole process is so sterile and clinical, but perhaps more so for her because she is not the one carrying. I think we resolved to let names and titles develop in due time. I just hope the kid comes up with something good. I don't want to be called 'MooMa' or 'DoDa' for the rest of my parenting life.....maybe for just the first few years.
Yesterday we went for our fifth IUI. We are very hopeful, as usual, but maybe a bit more this time since we introduced Clomid to my cycle. I am still ridiculously bloated, and after mentioning that to our fave IUI lady, she said that changes in my cycle would be totally normal. She said that it may even effect the length of my cycle, severity of cramps, etc. Information is so helpful. I could get used to this.
Later that night, as we watched TV and zoned out the days crazy events and discussed our treks all over the state of New Hampshire, we would occasionally pause and look into each other's eyes and hold hands and just think happy thoughts.
It was my mistake to say during one of these moment's of silence as I looked longingly into her eyes, 'What are we going to call you?'
She immediately responded, 'What do you mean, what are WE going to call YOU? What, are you and the baby going to come up with some name for me?'
'No, I mean what are you and I going to call each other?'
'I am not going to be called something stupid like 'Momma S' like 'Momma B' on the L Word. We are in this together 50/50.'
'That's not what I mean. Of course we're in this together.'
'So just because you're the one giving birth, you get to be called 'Mom'? The baby will come up with what it's going to call us.'
I was getting what I call 'bug eye' from her through our whole 'conversation'. Bug eye is this great expression she has that is totally glaring. I know when I get 'bug eye' that I am in trouble....It is challenging for both of us because this whole process is so sterile and clinical, but perhaps more so for her because she is not the one carrying. I think we resolved to let names and titles develop in due time. I just hope the kid comes up with something good. I don't want to be called 'MooMa' or 'DoDa' for the rest of my parenting life.....maybe for just the first few years.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Redemption for Dartmouth: the 'stay-cation' continues....
As you know, Dartmouth Hospital is a part of a world-renowned research center and ivy league college. We are of the opinion that you get what you pay for. After my rant of an email last week, our contact was very quick to call us back and defend their program while truly making us feel better about our healthcare.
I felt gulty after writing the email. I was harsh, and although I tried to not personally attack our contact, there were some parts that would have hurt me if it were my email to recieve. However, I didn't lie about or exaggerate any of our feelings at all. I kept reminding myself that I in fact do have to take charge of my own care to get what I need.
The call was long, about 30 minutes. I finally now know (after all this time) what sorts of tests that I could be up against both emotionally and financially and what the time frame is for all of them. I know more about who to direct other questions to that she couldn't answer. I know that although we feel sort of ignored in this process, this is all that we really need to be doing/concerned with at this point and that yes, we are being rigorously charted (for the info that they want right now...). I finally feel as though we have been informed about the process.
It is stressful being a hopefully preggo lesbo. The money that we saved to start this process is dissapearing. We joke that every month, we take a 'stay-cation' to Dartmouth. It's such a nice, scenic drive up I89 after all.... Humor is so great. We should get a camcorder so we can remember these fun, light-hearted moments we share during the car ride years from now when our kids move out and we're dealing with an empty nest. Hmmm. According to my partner, she ought to be about 90 by then. hehehe.
I felt gulty after writing the email. I was harsh, and although I tried to not personally attack our contact, there were some parts that would have hurt me if it were my email to recieve. However, I didn't lie about or exaggerate any of our feelings at all. I kept reminding myself that I in fact do have to take charge of my own care to get what I need.
The call was long, about 30 minutes. I finally now know (after all this time) what sorts of tests that I could be up against both emotionally and financially and what the time frame is for all of them. I know more about who to direct other questions to that she couldn't answer. I know that although we feel sort of ignored in this process, this is all that we really need to be doing/concerned with at this point and that yes, we are being rigorously charted (for the info that they want right now...). I finally feel as though we have been informed about the process.
It is stressful being a hopefully preggo lesbo. The money that we saved to start this process is dissapearing. We joke that every month, we take a 'stay-cation' to Dartmouth. It's such a nice, scenic drive up I89 after all.... Humor is so great. We should get a camcorder so we can remember these fun, light-hearted moments we share during the car ride years from now when our kids move out and we're dealing with an empty nest. Hmmm. According to my partner, she ought to be about 90 by then. hehehe.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Two weeks closer to our next insemination....
Yes, we are two weeks away from another trip to Dartmouth. Not pregnant.
My period is alive and well; cramps that almost had me doubled over today in meetings. The only good news tonight is the cape codder that is helping me write this. Vodka really is good.
I was so optimistic this time, for the first time ever. But my optimism faded as I started to get crampy and PMSy. Apparently I will just continue to 'go with the flow' and try try again.
Tonight's conversation is positive; about Jeopardy answers (don't call out house durring Jeopardy, we won't answer) and the possibility of marriage in August. I had a bride cancel (her whole wedding was canceled....uh oh).....freed up a whole weekend for me. Why not take advantage of that?! I think it was meant to be. Elope to the cape. Actually elope, not what these crazy people at the hotel call eloping (planning to elope definitely doesn't count. Or when you have more than 5 guests on a meal plan.) Where can we find a nice little free beach to enjoy for an afternoon?
For now, I will continue to enjoy my cape codder, get through my crazy work week and imagine a wedding on the cape. My partner just threw out yet another fabulous girl name option from some commercial. For now, tampons are on my shopping list.
My period is alive and well; cramps that almost had me doubled over today in meetings. The only good news tonight is the cape codder that is helping me write this. Vodka really is good.
I was so optimistic this time, for the first time ever. But my optimism faded as I started to get crampy and PMSy. Apparently I will just continue to 'go with the flow' and try try again.
Tonight's conversation is positive; about Jeopardy answers (don't call out house durring Jeopardy, we won't answer) and the possibility of marriage in August. I had a bride cancel (her whole wedding was canceled....uh oh).....freed up a whole weekend for me. Why not take advantage of that?! I think it was meant to be. Elope to the cape. Actually elope, not what these crazy people at the hotel call eloping (planning to elope definitely doesn't count. Or when you have more than 5 guests on a meal plan.) Where can we find a nice little free beach to enjoy for an afternoon?For now, I will continue to enjoy my cape codder, get through my crazy work week and imagine a wedding on the cape. My partner just threw out yet another fabulous girl name option from some commercial. For now, tampons are on my shopping list.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)