of course you'll get pregnant!

Mr. December, cruising de Nile.

2011-03-15T15:15:00.005-04:00

Mr. December is on the Egyptian River Cruise, big-time. He's insisted on repeating the home pregnancy tests every other day, sometimes twice a day. Yes, the test line still pops up immediately (and oddly, the control line takes a few minutes). But was he satisfied? Nuh-uh.

"This test is pretty sensitive," he said thoughtfully. "Let's dilute the pee by a factor of ten and try it again." Um, okay, so now we know that it's detecting an HCG level of at least 250. Given my estimate that I'm in the ninth or tenth week here, 250 is nothing. Frankly, neither is 2500.

At this point I just roll my eyes, pee in the cup, hand it to him, and let him have fun with the pipette. At this point I don't think I'd be surprised if some titration equipment showed up in the bathroom.

So my sex ed teacher was right?

2011-02-28T10:40:00.003-05:00

I don't think I ever told you about my last visit to the midwife after Nati's birth, when she said "we'd love to see you back again, but preferably not within the next year..." and then asked about birth control, to which I responded that not paying $10K for fertility treatment seems to work for me. She launched into "it could happen, blah blah blah" and I assured her that no, it probably wouldn't.

But it did.

Apparently, if you've got polycystic ovaries, require ovulation stimulation, and have an abysmally low fertilization rate with IVF (but no ICSI), you can still conceive spontaneously while you're exclusively nursing a six-month-old baby.

I'll spare you the long narrative about how I asked Mr. December to bring an HPT down with him, wherupon he sighed and reminded me that we've been through this before (we have, and the HPT is always negative). How I finally took the test a few days after Mr. D arrived, just for the heck of it, how the test line came up immediately, and how Mr. December excused himself for a moment to scream in another room before coming back, hugging me, and speaking the words I'll never forget:

"We are in so much trouble."

Moving day

2010-12-06T15:24:00.001-05:00

I've gone here. See you on the other side!

And so, goodnight.

2010-09-27T15:14:00.002-04:00

Periodically I'll have a thought to share, or a story, and something will stop me. Sometimes that "something" is a crying baby or rampaging preschooler, but more frequently it's that it doesn't quite seem right for this blog. My life doesn't seem right for this blog anymore.

I'd like to be blogging about (in no particular order): craft projects, parenting challenges, what to make for dinner, the in-laws, things my kids say and do, home ownership, gardening, and my determination to own a Bakfiets.

There's nothing else I can do, except begin a new blog for all of those things. This blog will still be here, in case anyone ever wants to read my bitter ramblings through infertility, and I'll begin posting again when we decide to try for a third kid. But for now, I need to start anew.

As soon as I figure out where I'm going, I'll let you know.

And so, goodnight...

This blog was good. This blog was fun.
Next week will bring another one.
Every day, from here to there,
Funny thoughts are everywhere.

(with apologies to Dr. Seuss)

Update

2010-07-13T21:57:00.002-04:00

OK people, I'm typing one-handed here. anyone bothered by typos and the like can come over and take dictation.

Baby boy has a name. For blog purposes, let's call him Nate.

Nate likes to nurse. all the time. It reminds me of Kali's growth spurts, except that it's not just for a few days. It's constant, and sleep is scarce. I don't remember being this exhausted with Kali, probably because most of the time I wasn't.

We have such a lovely community here... people have been bringing us delicious dinners and generally spoiling us rotten. And between our parents, and the babysitter, and Mr. D's two weeks off work... well, I can just hole up in my bed if I want to. Why is it that I'm too stupid to take full advantage?

I wish I had something witty or entertaining to write, but my brain is too fried for that. In the meantime, I'll leave you with a list of posts I'd like to write sometime:

- reflections on doctor friends and elective cesaerian sections
- gems of parenting wisdom, in-law style
- why I love my midwives
- what do you give the parents who have everything?

OK, Nate's eyes are closed now. Nitey nite.

Birth Story

2010-07-01T01:09:00.003-04:00

Why am I awake at 1 a.m. typing up a birth story? Um, can I blame my birth high and all those natural endorphins? My men (one big, one little) and my little girl are all asleep, and here I am. Since I can't sleep I might as well get the story down while I remember. Right?

So we all know that this morning I had general menstrual-type achiness and major pressure. Painful, annoying, but not convincingly labour at all. I hung out at my computer and looked at double stroller reviews on Amazon.

It dawned on me sometime around noon that the achiness was actually coming in waves, and I started to time them. Hmm... six to eight minutes apart. They hurt, but they really only seemed to involve my lower abdomen, so I was unconvinced that these were "real" contractions. I decided I'd take a bath and see what happened... but first I had to round up the bathmats (hanging on the clothesline outside), get the clean towels from the dryer and fold them, and hey, maybe I should wash out the tub and clean up the bathroom just in case...

By the time I was finished with those nesting endeavours, it was 2:15 and the contractions were coming every four minutes. I got in the tub. Did I mention I was home alone?

And then... the contractions slowed way down. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Eleven. Four. Four. Four?!?!?!?! I finally called Mr. December and told him to come home from work. I paged the midwives, who said it still sounded like early labour. They promised to arrive in about an hour.

Mr. December came home, and I promptly sent him out for food - today was supposed to be grocery shopping day. While he was gone, the contractions started getting pretty intense - at the height of each, I'd feel a few moments of nausea. I checked the clock and noted that they were about three minutes apart, lasting 90 to 120 seconds each time.

By the time Mr. D was back, I was starting to swear at the beginning of each contraction. A new mantra came to me: "It's just the baby moving down. It's just the baby. I'm not dying, it's just the baby." Mr. D paged the midwives again and told them things had picked up. Fortunately they were only minutes away.

Around 4 p.m. I got out of the tub and made my way to the bedroom where I fully intended to put the plastic sheets on the bed. Really, I did intend to, but I kept getting interrupted by contractions that took my breath away. I felt like I was overheating, a sensation I remembered vividly from my labour with Kali. I couldn't get cool enough. My midwife fixed that problem by applying a freezie to the back of my neck. A relief in the midst of contractions, and delicious in between! I was also lucky that it was a cool, breezy day. I sat on the birthing ball in front of an open window and found relief in the cold breeze.

Kali and our babysitter chose this moment to return home from an outing. "Get her out of here," I growled at Mr. D. He called my mom, sent Kali and her sitter to the park, and arranged for the pick-up.

By this point, each contraction was pushing me to the brink of despair. I told the midwives I was regretting the whole homebirth-without-access-to-drugs thing. They pointed out gently that it would be too late for drugs even if we were at a hospital. They finally convinced me to lie on my back for one contraction so they could check me. 7-8 centimetres, they said, minus one station. To me it sounded pretty far from complete. They claimed the birth was imminent.

I must have stood or sat for a couple more intense contractions before I straightened up and announced frantically, "I have to pee. I have to have a contraction. I have to pee. Oh, S***!" and ran to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet I had another contraction, and the midwife came to tell me it was time to get off the pot, literally and figuratively.

"Do you want to come back to bed?" she asked.

"NNNNOOOO!!!!" I roared. (Did I mention that I had been literally roaring, mama-bear style, through the really crazy contractions? Yes, roaring, in between seeking reassurance that the intensity was normal and I wasn't dying, it was just the baby moving down. My midwives were amazing, reassuring, fabulously telling me that it was so unbearable because it was happening so quickly. They kept me as calm as humanly possible, even when I was begging for someone to just get a baseball bat and knock me out. But I digress.)

"I need to get in the tub," I announced, "and I want it COLD." Mr. December diligently tested the water, ran some more in as cold as possible, and I got in.

I leaned over the side of the tub. My midwife gently told me I'd have to change position so she could see something, anything. Could I please sit back? "NNNOOO!" Okay, how about just turning a bit?

I turned. On hands and knees, with my forehead resting against the corner of the tub, I roared through a contraction and decided the only way it could possibly feel better was if I pushed. So I did. Once...

"I see the head. Hold on a sec." I felt the ring of fire and tried to slow down, pant, and let some stretching happen. I waited what felt like an eternity but was probably a minute, at most. I pushed again... hard... really hard... and out popped the head. One more push and the body was out, I heard a cry, and I turned around in utter shock. Until that moment, the pain had been so overwhelming that I really was unable to even remember the emerging reality of our baby.

"Here's your baby!"
"No way! Seriously? There was a baby in there? Holy crap!"

It was 5:05 p.m.

I held him to my chest, still in the tub. Someone covered us with a towel and a blanket. The midwife showed me, and I felt, how the umbilical cord was still pulsing. Maybe fifteen minutes passed before we cut the cord, and shortly after that I pushed out the placenta. We hung out for a few more minutes before I felt like leaving the tub. One midwife gently took the baby from me. Mr. December helped me stand up and I insisted on showering off before getting into bed. By this point I was freezing cold and he led me back to bed, teeth chattering, while the midwives turned on the space heater.

The hours after that were so relaxed, by which I mean that there was activity all around me but somehow it felt like calm, peaceful activity. Baby was having some trouble warming up, so we lay skin-to-skin with blankets and a heating pad on top of us. Someone brought me a cup of tea.

As the baby latched on (beautifully) and sucked for all he was worth, the midwives examined me. Intact perineum, a few minor abrasions and "skid marks" internally. No stitches. To say I was pleased would be an understatement.

He was weighed, 7 lbs 15 ozs, and measured, 52 centimetres (about 21 inches?) with a head circumference of 32 centimetres (13 inches?). Sometime around 8 p.m. we finally did the newborn exam. We accepted the vitamin K, declined the antibiotic eye goop.

By 9:00 p.m. the midwives were satisfied that we were both okay. At this point I'd been up to pee and they'd stripped the bed back down to the clean sheets. We got tucked in and given a snack, the grandparents arrived, and the midwives went home.

To say that I'm pleased with how the birth went would be an understatement. It was so lovely to be at home, to decide when and where to get totally naked, to roar without any fear of being heard or shushed, to push when and how I felt like it. I can only imagine what agony the ride to the hospital would have been, and how annoying it might have been to have to pack up and ride home in the car instead of just getting right into my bed. I also mightily appreciate how, when the baby needed warming up, the midwives kept him right on me and did all the warming things around us. I can't imagine having him taken away to lie in a warmer by himself. All in all, it was an amazing birth, an amazing experience, and while I can certainly wait to do it again, I have no doubt that I'll want to do it the same way next time.

He's here...

2010-06-30T22:19:00.002-04:00

7 lbs 15 ozs of cute and slightly furry. Five hours of labor from start to finish, and he was born in the bathtub at home. More details when I have 2 hands for typing.

Ow, it hurts...

2010-06-30T11:54:00.003-04:00

And no, I'm not in labour.

In addition to the crazy menstrual-like crampiness, I've now got crazy pressure going on "down there"... (TMI coming up) I keep going to the bathroom, sitting there, and then realizing after ten minutes that I already pooped plenty today, this is just pressure. And it is. And it's killing me. Ow.

So... do I haul out "ye olde breast pumpe" and see if I can stir up some contractions that way? I'd feel so... hypocritical. Up until a couple of weeks ago, my attitude was, "the baby will be born when it's ready, and it's just wrong to try to force a natural process." Now that I'm here, at 40 weeks exactly, and not just uncomfortable but in actual pain, I'm feeling almost ready to give in to the selfish impulse to "self-induce".

That's all... just a whine. Have a great day, everyone.

Still pregnant.

2010-06-27T12:36:00.002-04:00

I know, I know. Up until a few weeks ago, "still pregnant" would be a marvellous, wonderful thing to celebrate. At this point, though, I'm just ready to be done. Not because I'm tired of being so big, not because I'm impatient to meet this baby (although I am), but because I've been having contractions on and off for the past two weeks, and it's bloody annoying. Look, either contract and get the baby out, or don't, and let me function normally. Oh, and the feeling that my pubic bone is separating in the most painful manner possible isn't helping, either.

Whine over.

Today I've got that really bad achy feeling like the worst menstrual pain ever. Does this mean labour is imminent? I fear the answer is "no"... but it would be a great day for a "yes"!

whiskey tango foxtrot?

2010-06-22T21:42:00.002-04:00

I was able to get to the bottom of this bloodwork issue today, thanks to the original doctor's incompetence (or should I say, "complete lack of common sense"?).

My psychiatrist faxed the bloodwork results to my midwives. I'm still not sure why, except that since she kept saying "I want you to have a copy to show your midwife" I assumed it was something relevant to my prenatal care, and therefore told her to fax it to them when she suggested I drive downtown, pay for parking, and pick up the stupid thing myself.

So... the "deficiencies"? My vitamin B12 is at a level that the lab guidelines classify as "possibly indicating deficiency", and my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) is 3.25, right in the middle of the lab's "normal" range of 0.5-5.0. The doctor's note on the front, addressed to my midwives, states that "patient should be started immediately on intramuscular B12 injections, and should be referred to Dr. Y___ for endocrinology follow-up."

Now, before any of you Google MDs start typing out your responses, let me say that I understand that both the B12 guidelines and the TSH range have been recently (or not-so-recently) criticized as being outdated and inaccurate, and doctors are advocating revamping and tightening the guidelines. The current guidelines, it seems, originally included a number of people who had what were called "subclinical" cases of deficiency or whatever.

HOWEVER... neither of these bloodwork results is alarming enough to warrant calling a patient and insisting that she needs to come in the next day to discuss, all said in a panicky tone of voice. And to my mind, neither of these things needs to be addressed right this second, when I'm 39 weeks pregnant and I'm likely to be facing wildly fluctuating hormone levels in the next little while. And finally, neither of these things is something that my midwives can or should really address. They can't make the direct referral to edocrinology, and they don't have the expertise in thyroid stuff to know whether they should. IM B12 injections are also not within their scope of practice, I think. So why on earth did my psychiatrist a) freak me out with her whole "I need to see you tomorrow" drama, and b) suggest/insist on involving my midwives?

I feel like the answer is to accept that my psychiatrist is generally high-strung and anxious, and either ask my family doc for a new psychiatric referral or brace myself for more lapses in common sense.

What would you do? And would you bitch out the psychiatrist, if you were me?

Still around, still round.

2010-06-17T22:42:00.004-04:00

No, I haven't had the baby yet. I'm having another evening of many contractions, all painless.

Today at the midwife, we discovered that Cletus the Fetus's head is engaged in my pelvis, which I probably should have deduced from the searing pain in my pubic bone every time I shift positions. Seriously, it feels like that bone is going to split down the middle. In other news, I'm strep B negative... again. Which is a good thing, because nobody thinks my labour would be long enough for me to have the recommended course of antibiotics anyhow. Meh, another bullet dodged.

My psychiatrist called today. Last time I was in, on Monday, she insisted that we run another set of bloodwork - thyroid, Vitamin D, etc - because there were a few slightly abnormal numbers last time. Well, she called me today and left a message insisting that she needs to see me tomorrow to briefly discuss the results. Then she "reassured" me that there's nothing really terrible, "just a few deficiencies". A few? A FEW? So important that she needs to see me tomorrow? So now I'm stuck between worrying and thinking that she's just a worrywart who wants to make sure that my Midwives know that I'm iron-deficient or something.

Right this second, I'm feeling like it's something semi-serious. WTF is wrong with me?

UPDATE: I called her this morning to confirm what time she wanted me to come in. She said, "I don't have time for this today, I have to leave by 2:00 and I have back-to-back patients until then." !!!!! I stifled the urge to say, "Well, you were the one who called me in a panic and HAD to see me today." She asked me whether I could just come in and pick up a copy of the results. I told her she should just fax them to my midwife, if she thought they were relevant. So now I don't really know what to think these results are all about... but how important can they be, if hearing about it is subject to my doctor's whims?

Braxton-Hicks

2010-06-14T17:17:00.001-04:00

Yes, exactly. Basically painless contractions. Every fifteen minutes.

I know this can go on for a long, long time without me being in active labour. And by a long, long time I mean weeks... but just in case, I'm going to go take a nap.

Musings on a front garden.

2010-06-13T12:00:00.003-04:00

Well, it's something to think about. Enough people have disagreed with my and Mr. December's perception of the front-yard issue that we're rethinking our attitude. We're going to compromise, for now, on mowing our lawn more often.

Interestingly, the municipal by-law insists that front yards be kept free of weeds. This in the same city where it is now illegal to spray pesticides and herbicides. And besides, who determines what a weed is? The volunteer foxgloves that sprout between our foundation and our driveway? Chicory flowers (which I love)? Or just the usual old dandelions?

It can all be very confusing when you're not a perfectionist.

I think I can appreciate where my neighbour is coming from, in terms of the veggies. In her day, growing a vegetable garden meant that there was a shortage of produce - either because of war, or simply because you were too poor to buy your fruits and veggies at a store. For her, I suspect that living in a neighbourhood where people only grow ornamental plants is proof of a certain level of affluence.

In our generation, at least among the people we hang out with, growing vegetables is a hobby. A time-consuming, money-consuming hobby, that doesn't necessarily even pay for itself. Also, it's an environmental statement, having something to do with eating locally or organically. All of the above are really luxuries afforded to people with a certain level of affluence, and so we make absolutely no associations between a vegetable garden and poverty. Friends come over, see our garden, and say "Wow, cool! I had no idea potato flowers were purple!". It's seen as a really neat feature.

So all this to say that from now on we'll mow our lawn more regularly and divide the perrenials when they get too bushy and overgrown... but the vegetables stay, and so does the pear tree.

Now, if only I could get the city to come and uproot the dead sapling that's been in our front yard for the past TWO YEARS...

hormonal? Me?

2010-06-09T20:50:00.003-04:00

Yes, folks, we've reached that point in the pregnancy. Everything makes me emotional.

Today was Kali's last day of preschool. Her teacher gave each child a personalized slideshow of pictures taken throughout the year. As we watched it, I cried.

I went across the street to ask the elderly neighbour with the broken arm how she was doing. I made a remark about how excited we are about our garden and our blooming veggies, and she started in on how vegetables don't belong in the front yard, how messy and disorganized our yard is, and how her sons cry when they see it because they miss the fastidious woman who lived here years ago. I managed to conceal my rage until I had again wished her well, and then I went back home and fumed. Maybe a single pensioner has nothing better to do than to search her lawn for weeds every. single. day. If we mow our lawn every other week, that's pretty good for us.

So yeah, two very emotional reactions to things that would normally roll off my back. I must be hormonal or something.

36.5

2010-06-05T20:40:00.003-04:00

Here we are, 36.5 weeks. For those counting along at home, that means I'm 4 days away from being considered "full term".

Thanks to all who responded to my last post. We ended up not going. To clarify, this was an informal gathering, not the actual engagement party. Anyhow, I was having an off day where sitting up was making me feel all kinds of dizzy and weird (darn baby mushing my internal organs around), so driving half an hour was really not in the cards anyway.

Many things are going really well around here:

The Garden
My potatoes are flowering, and so are the peas. We have a crop of carrots that looks like it'll be ready by the end of the month, and have sown a whole bunch more. The cucumbers have sprouted. The tomato seeds are in the ground. Sunflowers are slowly catching up to the squirrels, height-wise, and our new fruit tree and raspberry bushes seem to be thriving. Even Kali's pot of carrots, whose future was in question ("no, sweetheart, we don't dig the dirt again after we've already planted the seeds!") is producing some nice little sprouts.

The Toddler
At turns infuriating and endearing, Kali just amazes me. Sometimes she comes up with things that I know I haven't explicitly taught her. Today someone was asking her about the new baby we'll be having soon. Kali explained that she would put the baby in the stroller and take it for a walk and put it on the swings. The adult then asked, "what about feeding? What do you feed a baby?" Kali's response? "Babies eat breastmilk!"

The Pregnancy
I won't lie, the heartburn is killing me and I'm dying to be able to turn over in bed without heaving myself violently like a beached whale in its final throes. But overall I've been blessed with an easy pregnancy, and just enough weight gain to not worry me while at the same time making me feel optimistic about losing not only the baby weight, but the IVF weight too.

The only thing that has scared me recently is, improbably, a charley horse. It woke me up in the middle of the night and was breathtakingly painful. In that moment, suddenly, I thought, "I can't handle this cramp! How am I going to manage in labor?!?" Fortunately, the cramp subsided and I'm left both laughing and silently fretting.

social obligations?

2010-05-27T22:26:00.003-04:00

I'd really like to hear some opinions on this one...

We've been invited to an "open house" (i.e. drop-in style party) this weekend for the engagement of a family friend whom we don't see very often. In fact, I haven't seen him since my brother's wedding last year, and before that... well, it was a long time. But anyhow, we've been invited, and he doesn't have a large extended family, and his mother feels that we're the "closest thing to family" they have. My parents are, of course, going.

When my mom asked whether we'd be there, I answered, "no". True to form, she asked my why. I explained that I don't have a really great reason, just that I don't feel like going, it's not conveniently located, we've had a lot of social engagements recently (and we have two others that weekend, neither in direct conflict), and that Mr. December has been working late and hasn't had the time to be at home with us and it would be nice to just have some family time together.

My mom acted like this was a really unsatisfactory answer.

So my question - my musing - tonight is about whether one is actually "obligated" to attend social functions to which they are invited unless they are otherwise occupied (i.e. with an officially scheduled event). Do I need a reason to send my regrets over an invitation? Is it not my perogative to decide that I'm just not in the mood to drive 30 minutes each way just to be smiley and social at an event that will be no fun for Kali and no fun for my husband (and probably not much fun for me)? Can't I just randomly decide not to accept an invitation?

According to how I was raised, no, I can't. I need to attend the event unless I have a *good* reason not to. But that could just be my family's silly rule... so I need to hear from my readers. What do you think?

To be fair...

2010-05-24T10:42:00.003-04:00

... I asked Mr. December to talk to MIL about the swim diaper incident, especially since it indirectly resulted in Kali ripping her natural-latex mattress to shreds while the dirty sheets were in the wash. He briefly mentioned to her that she had put Kali in a swim diaper instead of a normal one. End of conversation.

But that WASN'T THE POINT!

So I mentioned it to my FIL and pointed out that Kali's bed was completely wet and had to be stripped and so forth, and that she ended up sneaking into her room and ruining the mattress while its protective cover was off.

MIL called the next day.

She apologized profusely, offered to buy us a new mattress, and apologized again while emphasizing that she wants to be a "force for good" and not cause problems. I thanked her for her concern, apologized for not having re-stocked the diaper drawer before I left, and suggested that next time she just call my cellphone and ask what to do if she found herself without the proper supplies. She acknowledged that as "probably a good idea".

So here's to open communication and to not "protecting" the grandparents. If they don't know there's a problem, they can't fix it. And I tip my hat to MIL for her immediate and gracious response.

Scenes with the in-laws

2010-05-11T21:03:00.002-04:00

Well, I'm heavily pregnant and hormonal, and mothers' day has just passed, which means it must be time to gripe about the in-laws. (Really, I know that my joy in doing this is one of my major spiritual failures. I conquered envy this year, next year I'll work on the in-law thing.) Rather than editorialize, I'm just going to give you the actual scripts. Enjoy... in that schadenfreudische way that blog readers do...

MIL: You don't use a wipe every time you change her diaper, do you?
Decemberbaby: Yes, we do.
MIL: I mean, I'll wipe if there's poo, but otherwise, do you really need to?
December: Would you wipe yourself if you'd been sitting in pee for a couple of hours?
MIL: I guess so...

__________________

December: Um, Kali woke up soaking wet this morning. Why did you put her to sleep in a swim diaper?
MIL: I didn't see any other diapers where you usually have them.
December: Well, there was a bag of new diapers on the floor next to the change table, and there's a basket of cloth diapers there too.
MIL: I didn't think you were using the cloth ones anymore.
December: They're a lot more absorbent than swim diapers. Swim diapers actually only hold solid waste. Did you know that?
MIL: well, there weren't any other diapers.
December: *facepalm* Okay, next time just call my cellphone if you can't find something.

__________________

December: The carseat looks a little off kilter. Did you guys re-install it?
MIL: No, we don't even know how.
December: (lifting the carseat up off the seat and moving it around) Well, it's not connected to the car except by the top tether. In a collision she'd probably just fly up and hit the ceiling with the weight of the carseat behind her.
MIL: Who would disconnect it?
December: It was installed with the seatbelt... probably one of your passengers disconnected it by accident while trying to undo their own seatbelt.
MIL: I don't remember having any passengers recently...
December: did it look or feel off centre when you put Kali in this morning?
MIL: You know, I didn't look.

Mamma Mia!

2010-05-03T13:32:00.002-04:00

Now, it could be the music, or the fact that the entire set and most of the costumes were in my favourite colour scheme, or the half-naked singing and dancing Colin Firth. It could be any of those things... but why split hairs? I've just finished watching Mamma Mia (the movie), and I feel marginally less awful.

I'm on self-imposed bedrest today. Given the fact that I have a babysitter here til Kali's bedtime it just seems wise. I hope to be well enough tomorrow that I can actually take care of Kali all day instead of having to pawn her off on the grandparents like I did all weekend. I miss my little girl.

I'd like to know...

2010-05-02T11:38:00.002-04:00

Why does pregnancy = crap immune system?

I'm sick again. blah. It hurts to swallow, I get short of breath taking a shower, and my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton. All this on the most beautiful weekend this year. I hate it.

Thank god for parents. Mr. December's parents have Kali right now, and my parents are poised to take over in a couple of hours. I do not have the energy to enforce any of the following rules:

1. We do not pull all the drawing paper off the roll and use it to make a bed.

2. You may not throw the pewter candlesticks onto the hardwood floor because you're done playing with them.

3. While it is wonderful that you want to "play shabbat", you may not climb onto the kitchen counter in search of the wine. Imaginary shabbat, imaginary wine. Deal with it.

4. If you have to climb all over mummy's belly and boobs to get to the most coveted corner of the couch, you should infer that said corner is unavailable.

5. Your cuteness will not save you from having to wear a diaper. Only potty-training can.

Gee, I'm tired just typing all that. Please excuse me while I recline listlessly on the couch.

Spring is busting out all over...

2010-04-30T15:43:00.002-04:00

I'd love to include pics, but I'm sick (another cold? seriously? hello, immune system?) and also lazy, so no photos for you.

So excited were we by the fresh tomatoes and carrots we ate all last summer that we've expanded our plans for this year's vegetable patch.

As we speak, the potatoes are growing, the peas have sprouted, and I'm keeping a watchful eye on the carrots. The carrots are an "early" variety, but I sowed them two weeks ago and so far, out of 155 possible sprouts, I have one. Not sure whether something's gone horribly wrong or I'm just impatient... but we really, really love carrots straight from the ground. Who wouldn't?

Thoughts on homebirth

2010-04-28T21:40:00.003-04:00

Folks, I'm tired of apologizing every time I post here after a long break. Suffice it to say, I'm often mentally or physically too exhausted to put my thoughts into words. From now on, I'll just post as I can, without all the apologetic preamble.

We attended a seminar on homebirth this week. Mr. December and I had already done most of the research, so the only thing that was new to us was seeing all the equipment that the midwives bring with them. I had already decided before this week that we're planning on having a homebirth. Mr. December is supportive, but open about the fact that it wouldn't be his choice.

I'm not sure why people keep saying that I'm "brave" to try a homebirth. Frankly, there is an element of fear driving my decision: fear that I won't be listened to by hospital staff I've never met before; fear of being pushed into unnecessary interventions "just in case"; fear of winding up with a c-section for "failure to deliver within hospital timelines" or some other stupid reason, AKA winding up with an "unnecessarean".

I know that many of those fears are based on things I've heard from friends in other places, most notably the U.S. But fears are fears, and they're not entirely bogus.

I'm also choosing homebirth to be able to move, eat, scream, shout, and generally do whatever I feel the need to do to get this baby out. During Kali's birth, I felt pressured by the nurses to be quieter, out of consideration for the other women. Consideration is a great idea, I'm all for it, but at that moment I needed to vocalize. Loudly. Also, the l&d room I was in was smaller than an average dorm room from the 1970's. There was really nowhere to move around except in the hallway. And it stank of pee and disinfectant, as hospitals usually do.

When I was admitted to my delivery room at Kali's birth, the nurse started asking me all kinds of questions I had already answered either on a form or in my doctor's office (hence it would be in my chart). Having to listen to this litany of questions while trying to deal with very heavy labour was just really unfair. Why do we do pre-admission paperwork if they're just going to break our concentration to do it again when we arrive in full-blown labour?

In choosing a homebirth, I know that I'll be cared for by midwives who know me (and already know all the answers to those stupid questions), allowed to take my time birthing (as long as both the baby and I are in good shape, obviously), and given the space and freedom to do what I need to do. Really, NOT having those things would take a level of bravery that I don't have.

Besides, I'm dreaming of how nice it will be to be helped to shower after the birth, and then be tucked into bed with my new baby and some healthy snacks, and to be monitored when I am awake and ready instead of being disturbed by a nurse who wants to come take my vitals at HER convenience even if it means disturbing my rare and precious sleep.

Any questions?

Scenes from the playground

2010-04-18T22:20:00.003-04:00

Kali is climbing an s-shaped ladder up to a platform 6 feet in the air. Decemberbaby is about 20 feet away, talking to another mom, when she notices what Kali's up to.

Decemberbaby: Wow! Look what she's doing!
Other mom: Oh my God, I can't look.
Decemberbaby: I have to look. I might need to describe this at the emergency room later.

Incidentally, she did it all by herself. Kali is a surefooted little girl. Sure, her feet slipped once, but after a tiny whimper she pulled herself up and kept going. Hooray for my free-range kid!

Date night!

2010-03-24T17:57:00.002-04:00

Well, Kali is still sick, but we have a prescription for antibiotics, so hopefully this will be the end of it.

She's in a big-girl bed now. The first few nights were an adventure in returning her to her bed every ten minutes. Then, inspired by Suz, I started taking away one of her stuffed toys every time she escaped the bed. When the first sheep was confiscated she cried bitterly - sobbed, really. And that was all it took. These days, if I hear her starting to tiptoe, I loudly tell Mr. December, "I need to go check on Kali. I hope she's not out of bed, I'd hate to take away her toys!" Every single time, she jumps back into bed and does a credible job of faking sleep. I'm so proud.

And tonight is date night! We're taking our chances on a comedy club, after having ruled out two plays and the symphony. Why, oh why is culture so expensive? Is it a self-perpetuating cycle where it's too expensive so nobody goes, and then since attendance is down they raise ticket prices? What a shame. I would have liked to see Colin Mochrie perform at Canstage tonight. Alas, we weren't in the mood to spend $150 and not even eat anything.

So hopefully I'll be laughing hard enough to pee my pants (a likely outcome, given that Cletus is kicking me in the bladder these days), and avoiding yet another evening saying, "we should really get out sometime."

it's company policy to give you the plague...

2010-03-18T04:33:00.002-04:00

Ugh.

I just realized that my last update was three weeks ago, at which time Kali was sick.

Guess what? She's sick... still or again, it's hard to tell. This time she's taken me down with her. Can't talk without coughing and stuffed up beyond stuffy. What I wouldn't give for some ColdFX or Nyquil now.

Cletus the Fetus is fine... feels like he's perfecting his drumming solos during the long nights when mummy is trying to sleep. At least someone in this house has some energy.

I have nothing witty to say here. It's four in the morning and I need to get back to bed.

Coming soon: adventures with the "big-girl bed"

Where to begin?

2010-02-24T12:45:00.002-05:00

I guess I could start with my morning...

Today was my day to be "duty mom" at preschool, so of course Kali got sick and I was unable to go. I needed to drop off snack at the very least, so I left Kali with Mr. D and headed out.

While brushing snow off my car, I slipped on some ice and twisted my ankle... and fell. Then I got back up, started scraping the windshield, and... my ice scraper broke. Picking up the pieces, I noticed the sticker that proclaimed, "I'm unbreakable!" Yeah, unbreakable my backside.

So that's been my morning. On to last week:

We spent the week in Orlando, Kali and I along with my parents. The Magic Kingdom felt like a total rip-off, but Disney's Animal Kingdom was awesome. Kali was mesmerized by the Nemo musical show, and she bounced with Tigger! We've got some awesome video footage of her going right up to the giant plush characters and playing with them.

The downside... she didn't sleep very well, which landed me in a fibro-flare just as soon as we got back home.

So that was last week. Let's talk about my last ultrasound!

My ultrasound was at one of those obnoxious places that insist on partners staying outside until after the measuring is all done. I told Mr. December not to even show up until 30 minutes after my appointment time, but the scan was all done within 20 minutes. The technician was stuck with me, and I with her, so I proposed we have some fun.

I took out my iPod and pressed the headphones to my belly. On the ultrasound screen, we saw Cletus begin to move. Arms waving, butt wiggling, it was a little fetus dance party! I moved the headphones up to my ribcage, and little Cletus craned his (her?) neck and swiveled to see where the music was coming from. It was so cool.

Kali seems like such a big kid these days. She sings along with me anytime I sing. Amazingly, she knows all the words to songs like "somewhere over the rainbow" and "what a wonderful world". The other day I told her to sing to me, and she did - all three verses and the bridge. I'm officially impressed.

That's my life in a nutshell. Purim is this week and we don't have any costume plans. I need to run some errands but all I want to do is sleep. I'm 22 weeks pregnant today.

The wait is over

2010-02-09T10:51:00.000-05:00

My auntie died last night. Baruch Dayan Emet.

I have other news, but this entry needs to stand alone.

Some kinds of waiting suck more than others

2010-01-31T21:54:00.003-05:00

Today I was brutally reminded that some kinds of waiting suck way more than others.

My aunt (technically, my cousin's wife, but she's way older than me and she's just my aunt, ok?) is dying. She's had cancer for at least the past two years, probably longer. This morning we got the call that she has a few days left, if that. Of course we went over there. Of course I hung out with my cousins, her kids, and reassured them that they don't have to be social with the fifty bazillion people coming to say goodbye. And I ached for them, not just for the weddings and births at which their mother will always be missing, but for the fact that they have nothing to do for the next few days but wait. They don't feel like eating, or sleeping, and they certainly don't want to go anywhere. They don't want to sit next to her, because they don't want this image of her to be branded into their minds over all the other happy memories. They're just waiting for her to die.

In this perspective, the two-week-wait sounds like a total cakewalk, emotional rollercoaster and all.

I'm back...

2010-01-29T22:59:00.002-05:00

Hey everyone,

We're back from our vacation in the hot sun (which was wonderful and left me wondering why I live in Canada). According to the internet, I'm now a bit over 18 weeks pregnant, which just strikes me as weird... it moves very slowly and very quickly all at once.

Know what else is weird? I haven't gained any weight during this pregnancy. None. I have a reasonably big belly, but the scale has remained the same. I've tested the scale. It's not broken. This is just weird, and also a bit of a relief - I already gained 15 pounds during our 10 months of fertility treatments. Surely that's enough to sustain Cletus the Fetus for now?

Kali is at turns entertaining, cuddly, and maddening. Everything she sees is "I want that", and anything she doesn't want me to do is "I don't like that". I'm quite looking forward to having a little baby again, one who stays where you put it and doesn't talk back.

I've long believed that if my kid doesn't look a bit like a street urchin at the end of the day, it was a wasted day. In that spirit, please enjoy my newest list:

10 things I had to wash off my daughter's face tonight

1. Peanut butter
2. Dried challah dough
3. Bits of carrot
4. Residue of corn-based wet-and-stick packing peanuts
5. Dirt
6. Tears
7. Cookie crumbs
8. Snot
9. Purple marker
10. Wine. Yes, wine. Red.

And with that, I'm off to wash my own face and go to bed.

suddenly fun

2010-01-14T12:09:00.002-05:00

I don't know what happened between my recent post about my frustration with Kali and today, but she's suddenly adorable, fun, and relaxing to be around. She's currently "cooking pasta" in her play kitchen. Periodically she comes over to feed me. It's the best invisible pasta I've ever eaten. She's also singing along to "Snuggle Puppy" as she rocks from side to side.

As I said, she's fun. I don't know what happened to the toddler annoyance I was dealing with before, but I'm grateful to have my happy, cuddly girl back.

Excuse me, I have to finish my invisible pasta before Kali will let me have some invisible cookies.

Best. Morning. Ever!

2010-01-05T13:12:00.002-05:00

Well, I got off my butt and decided to bundle Kali up and head out to the park. We spent an hour playing in the snow, tobogganing, and drinking hot chocolate. Along with the three friends we'd invited to join us, we were the only people in the park.

People, it's Canada. Why won't you bring your children outside to play? It's only -8C out there (that's 18 degrees for my American readers)! Really, bundle up and you're fine for a few hours.

Whatever. We had the best tobogganing slope all to ourselves, and a clear view across the park of our kids running in the snow. It was awesome.

Best of all, Kali was all worn out when we got home. I expect a nice long nap.

once again, I need to get over myself

2010-01-03T23:02:00.002-05:00

I've done a bad thing. I don't feel the need to go into the gory details, but I yelled at my MIL and she ended up crying. It was a stupid situation; I was jetlagged, Kali hadn't slept in days, Mr. December wasn't there to act as my buffer, and (according to all sides) MIL was really pushing me in a particular conversation. So I exploded.

In the aftermath, she has revealed to Mr. December that she doesn't feel I respect her. It makes sense, in that she seems to always be looking for ways to gain my respect: she lists all the creative things she does with Kali, tells me about the wonderful activities she went to with her sons at this age, etc, etc. My reaction to all of this has revealed to me a stunningly ugly part of myself.

The more she ingratiates herself to me, and the more she seems to beg for praise, the less respect I have for her.

This is the opposite of the way I feel about other people. Usually when I see that someone has a particular weakness, whatever it is, I feel slightly protective. I go into "therapist" mode and do whatever I feel I can to alleviate their discomfort. Not so with MIL. I just feel the need to be tougher and tougher on her in the hope that one day she'll push back and reveal that she does have some self-esteem and possibly even a backbone.

As I said, it's an ugly reaction. I'm ashamed of it, as I am of my failure to show her the respect she deserves as my MIL. Respecting one's elders and one's parents is not optional, and yet I've neglected my obligation in that regard.

I'm not sure what to do. Whenever I look at her, I find fault. I try very hard to just not speak in her presence. I find myself biting my tongue. And yet a lack of disrespect is not the same as showing respect. She deserves respect as the woman who raised the man I love. Why can't I give it to her?

There will have to be a follow-up post; this one is getting long. I'll close with a call for suggestions. Real ones, please, respectful ones. I've got plenty of snark in me already when it comes to MIL. I need to tame it. Can anybody help me?

doubt

2009-12-27T10:49:00.002-05:00

I'm here, we travelled and came back in one piece, and I'm still pregnant - 13 weeks, 4 days.

I've been dealing with a lot of doubt and guilt lately. Doubt that I can handle two kids, and guilt that I'm not even enjoying the one I have right now.

There. I said it.

Thing is, I don't do toddlers well. Sure, I'm fabulous with them for a couple of hours, but the day in, day out routine of constant (destructive) activity, alternate defiance and clinginess, and outright tantrums just wears me down. I can't count the number of times I've put Kali down for a nap because I'm tired... of her. I feel like a terrible mommy.

Yesterday I sat down and read my blog, starting from Kali's birth. I was so smitten with her. I loved every moment, even the poopy ones. The fact is that I do infants really really well. I have mad skillz when it comes to newborns. Reading the blog again reminded me that once upon a time I felt competent and fully in awe of my daughter. I need to get some of that feeling back.

And I have to say, Kali is an amazing kid. She's gorgeous, for starters, and she talks a mile a minute (this is both good and bad, I'll admit). She's obsessed with Finding Nemo right now. She still sucks her thumb and lays her head on my shoulder when she's tired, but when she's not... watch out! She's into everything. She thinks my maxi pads are giant stickers. She knows where we keep the popsicles and how to access them (note to self: buy a lock for the fridge). She's never met a puddle in which she didn't want to splash. She's lively and adorable. I love her, and sometimes I can't stand her.

Someone knock some sense into me. I know I'm lucky beyond belief. I just need to feel it.

Thank God I don't have to.

2009-12-01T11:09:00.002-05:00

We're okay, folks.

No clue what the spotting was about, but the little June Bug was waving at us today. We saw fingers. FINGERS!

Measuring one day ahead, at 10w0d, and the heartbeat is 146. Cervix is closed and very long. Everything looks perfect.

My heartrate is still on the way down... I didn't sleep much last night and I was pretty wound up.

Thanks for the well wishes and offers of help. Anyone who wants to knock me out until the second trimester is welcome to come over with a baseball bat.

I'm going to bed. Here's a picture to tide you over.

I can't do this again.

2009-11-30T22:52:00.002-05:00

I'm spotting.

Before you ask, no, we didn't have sex. I did put in my progesterone, but other than that nothing has been in or out of there in a while. I don't see any mundane reason why this should be.

It's more than just a bit of spotting, it's a smear of pinkish red on the toilet paper. It took five or six wipes to get it to disappear, only to reappear the next time I (obsessively) went to pee.

This is eerily familiar, like my pregnancy with Squishy, we've already seen a very reassuring heartbeat. As with Squishy, we're scheduled to fly out of town at the end of the week. Last time I flew to Spain even though we knew our baby was dead. This time I won't be flying if the news is anything but reassuring. I might not be flying if the news is reassuring, either. As much as I'd miss Mr. December, gone as he'll be for three weeks, I wouldn't like to miscarry in a foreign country. Not again. Not with a toddler.

I'll call the clinic as soon as I wake up tomorrow and beg my way in for an ultrasound. I'll update you promptly after that. Needless to say, I'm totally freaked out.

I know that there are women who spot or even full-out bleed through their pregnancies and deliver healthy babies... that's not making me feel better, though. A good ultrasound tomorrow would still only tell me that as of this second, nothing is wrong. Nothing about the second after that, or the next day, or the next six months.

Holy shit, I'm scared.

Confession

2009-11-24T19:04:00.003-05:00

Forgive me, readers, for I have sinned. It's been eight days since my last blog post.

We went back to the clinic today. My heart was, once again, in my throat - but that's okay, because the embryo's heart is exactly where it should be, beating 150 times per minute. That's a pretty awesome heart rate, if you ask me!

Dr. Eyebrows first said the length indicated an age of 8w3d, which was NOT okay with me, seeing as this was eight days after we measured 7w5d... and then he got a better image and announced that it was more like 8w6d. So all is well. The little embie that could is looking an awful lot like a gummy bear. Mmmmm... gummy bears!

We got a couple of pics and some hugs from the doctors and nurses. One of my favourites said she'd better be the first person to hear about the birth, after the grandparents. I'll try to remember to send them a card this time.

I can't in good conscience call this embie either Phineas or Barnaby. Those names just have to go together. Instead, given my due date, this little one will henceforth be known as June Bug.

That is all.

141

2009-11-16T11:07:00.003-05:00

It's a heart rate, not a beta.

We just got back from an ultrasound at the clinic. There's one embryo (only one, thank God), measuring 7w6d, with a heartrate of 141 bpm. Everything looks normal.

I still feel more than a little anxious. I need to breathe. I need to focus. Maybe I just need chocolate.

We didn't get a picture... their printer was not working. Okay, not so much not working, but it had become disconnected from the computer and they didn't know how to reconnect it. Dr. Eyebrows asked if I'd like to come back next week and see if we could get a picture then. I take it from his astonished laugh that my "yes!" was pretty forceful.

So... good news, but somehow I'm not feeling it, and hey, you'll get a pic next week.

Hormonal much?

2009-11-13T12:34:00.002-05:00

My MIL is spending the day with us, playing with Kali.

Her voice is grating on me. Her habit of over-pronouncing words is driving me to distraction. Kali is young, not hard-of-hearing. I'm pretty sure she can hear all the sounds in that word, given the fact that she can SAY it correctly. I'm just sayin', ya know?

And I'd appreciate it if grandparents were just a bit more able to focus on one activity at a time, instead of talking about all the fun things they're gonna do next. 'Cuz Kali was eating her omelette very nicely until a certain someone mentioned reading stories... I'm just sayin'.

And really, Kali is pretty independent for a toddler. Please do not hover while she climbs the junglegym. She's been doing it by herself since August. Also, it's hard to climb when somebody else's body is just an inch away from yours. I'm just sayin'.

It is difficult for me to conclude my business with the window guy the insurance sent me when someone else keeps butting in with questions of vinyl vs. wood. We've already made the decision. This is my house, and I reserve the right to know my own mind. It's rude to start asking pointed questions obviously aimed at trying to get me to reconsider. I'm just sayin'.

I guess what I'm really just sayin' is that I need to get out of this house, or else MIL does. I can nap through pretty much anything, but sadly her strident voice does not fall into that category.

jeans

2009-11-11T12:30:00.002-05:00

So, I don't have a problem with maternity clothes. I don't find them super-expensive, many of them are really nice, and they fit me well. But for some reason, this time around, I could not find a single pair of maternity jeans that looked good on me. Instead I headed over to Bl.uenotes and bought a couple pairs of sexxxxy jeans that actually looked good. I've been holding them together with elastic bands ever since.

Today I converted my pair of ultra-low-rise flare jeans into maternity jeans. This is what I can do when left to my own devices for, oh, say 1 hour:

With apologies to Stacy...

2009-11-09T22:46:00.002-05:00

Sorry. I didn't mean to leave you all hanging. Believe me, I'm not going to abandon the blog. As this pregnancy progresses you'll all be privileged to hear my snarky rants. I promise.

As I've learned before, the best way to change the situation is to blog about it. Since my last post I've had no ovary pain, and even though I still seem to have a rather large belly, I don't feel bloated anymore. In fact, I don't feel much of anything. I'm pretty symptom-free.

And yes, I just typed that with the goal of not being symptom-free for much longer.

I shouldn't lie or exaggerate. I have been getting odd attacks of "I'm so hungry, if I don't shove some carbs in my mouth NOW then I'm gonna puke". But they haven't been frequent, and I can't deny that I'm remembering how desperately nauseated I was at this point in my pregnancy with Kali. Frankly, I found the daily vomiting a bit reassuring.

This time around, I've managed to find myself a midwife. For those just joining us, when I was pregnant with Kali I called all the midwives in the city the DAY I got my BFP. They were all full, not taking any more clients. I was put on waiting lists and ended up in the care of a (wonderful, very competent) family physician. This time I called the day I saw those two shadowy lines... and today I met my midwife. It was a great meeting, but I'm not in the mood to describe everything right now. Suffice it to say, I'm pleased with my choice.

Okay, I will comment on one thing. She asked for the date of my LMP. Accustomed to doctors and their stupid wheel, I gave her the fabricated date I figured out by counting backwards 14 days from my egg retrieval. And then... my jaw dropped as she asked whether I have a regular 28-day cycle, or whether there's any other reason to believe that the wheel might not be right. I was in shock! I just reassured her that my cycle was tightly controlled throughout the IVF process, and that the clinic has not said anything to contradict the due date that we've figured out. Which is, incidentally, June 30.

And, having (mostly) caught you up, off I go to relieve myself of the restrictions of pants. I need to spend some quality time with my sewing machine, some stretchy material, and my favourite jeans.

Mild OHSS?

2009-11-02T20:42:00.001-05:00

So, really, this bloating is not cool. I look pregnant - my belly is round, instead of the lumpiness I'm used to. And I have sharp ovary pains periodically, like ovulation pains, but worse. They especially happen if I twist while turning over in bed.

Is this mild OHSS? Should I be concerned?

In other news, my stomach seems to be unhappy... is it still called morning sickness if it's exiting the other end?

As Mr. December often reminds me, I'm so gross.

so soon?

2009-10-28T19:34:00.002-04:00

I have a belly.

Look, I'm not a skinny girl. I've always had a belly. I'm apple-shaped. But my belly is a LOT bigger than it was even two weeks ago. I can't button my jeans - I'm holding them together with a hair elastic, although I'm hoping to finish sewing a belly band by tomorrow.

So yeah, everyone who ever told me that you pooch out about three seconds after your bfp with baby #2 was dead on.

Also, my boobs are bigger and inexplicably warm.

So the question is, how do I keep this pregnancy under wraps for the next seven weeks?

365

2009-10-26T21:37:00.002-04:00

That's a doubling time of 39 hours, or 1.6 days. In short, it's fabulous. My nurse was suitably impressed. On November 16 we'll do an ultrasound to see who's bouncing around in there.

Sorry it took me so long to post... Kali WOULD NOT NAP today. At one point she sat on my bed and stroked my hair while I napped, but she wouldn't sleep. It led to some interesting moments this evening.

Long story short, all the information we currently have points to good things for this pregnancy. Of course, that doesn't mean much on a cosmic scale, but I'll take what I can get.

Relief

2009-10-24T22:20:00.002-04:00

I feel relieved. After 6 IUI's, our first IVF managed to get me pregnant.

You might think that the relief lies in knowing that I'm on my way to having the big family I've always wanted, in knowing that I'm growing another person. You might think that, but you'd be wrong.

I harbour no illusions that a positive pregnancy test means that in nine months there will be a take-home baby. None. I'm not really counting on this pregnancy to produce a baby. Maybe it will. I hope it will. But that's not the source of my relief, since the idea of this pregnancy brings a bit of anxiety with it.

No, I'm relieved because, for a little while at least, I can stop. I can stop the early-morning trips to the clinic. I can stop injecting myself with hormones. I can stop acting like I'm fine when all I want is to go back to bed and cry bitterly. I get to take a break.

My second beta, tomorrow, might give us a hint as to how long that break will be. Long or short, I do plan to enjoy it.

156

2009-10-23T14:39:00.000-04:00

That's our lucky number. The nurse assured me that it's a very good number, especially since we did the beta a day earlier than the clinic usually does. I can't help remembering that my beta with Kali (same dpo) was 637, but, well, I'll take my nurse at her word. Besides, we all know that it's about the rate of increase and NOT about the absolute number. Right? Right?

So, it's official. Please - if you know me IRL, or even on FB, don't mention this. A few key people will be told, but other than that I don't plan to make any official announcements. When people figure it out, they figure it out.

all hpt's are equal, but some are more equal than others

2009-10-21T22:09:00.004-04:00

You were all right. First off, a line is a line. But second, the dollar store tests are insanely faint compared to this:

Do you suppose the clinic would yell at me if I showed up for a beta tomorrow instead of Friday?

vision test.

2009-10-21T08:01:00.003-04:00

Mr. December and I can't quite agree. How many lines do you see?

This one has been altered slightly - I increased the exposure and contrast.

It's 14 dpo (11 dp3dt), my urine wasn't super-concentrated, and these shadowy lines came up within 10 minutes. Also, they're definitely pink, and there are two of them. Is it too much to hope?

Oh, and does the faintness of the line have anything to do with the viability of the pregnancy?

I've been a bit despondent...

2009-10-19T14:10:00.002-04:00

... and I only just figured out why. I'm so slow.

The worst part of IVF, so far, has been the complete lack of sex. No sex. It's been two weeks. Add to that the fact that I (partially?) observe the laws of Taharat Hamishpacha (which means no sex from CD1 until I'm positive I've stopped bleeding and/or spotting, and even then only after I've immersed in the mikvah), and you'll understand why I'm feeling deprived. It has been a long, long time.

All I can decently say about the resolution of this issue is that I've reminded Mr. December that our repertoire used to be more varied, once upon a time. Somehow, before it would have been appropriate to be consummating our relationship, we still managed more than our fair share of pleasure.

Last night I demanded satisfaction. Nobody was slapped with a glove and there was no duel, but I did get my choice of weapons.

I feel better now.

Who spiked my OJ?

2009-10-18T17:58:00.002-04:00

Okay, people. Fess up. Who put Fentanyl in my orange juice?

I slept today until 2:30 p.m. - oh, sure, I got up for 20 minutes to feed Kali and get her dressed to go to her grandparents' house, but as soon as she walked out the door I was back in bed. The next thing I knew, it was 2:30.

I still feel drugged. And I'm not just saying that - I know what drugged feels like! Really, my limbs feel heavy and I feel like I could sleep from now into tomorrow.

Repeat after me:

It's just the progesterone.

(but wouldn't it be nice if it wasn't?)

the suspense is killing me

2009-10-15T14:34:00.001-04:00

Really, I'm not usually this impatient at 8 dpo. Is it the progesterone talking, or have I lost the ability to wait and see? I want answers now! GAAAH.

The score: Sara - 2 Envy - 1

2009-10-14T14:10:00.002-04:00

In the last two days I've found out that two more of my friends are pregnant. Based on their own disclosures, they both conceived within 5 months of stopping birth control. They're also those elusive "fertile myrtles" who got pregnant with their first babies the first time they tried. Yes, apparently they do exist.

Anyhow, I was able to be genuinely happy for them, albeit a bit subdued. Envy was nowhere to be seen. For now.

Do not be alarmed, it was just a dream.

2009-10-13T05:51:00.002-04:00

A dream in which...

I exited the mall and found my car blocked in by bags of groceries.

Hmmm, I thought to myself, looks like a carjacking is about to go down. I looked around and identified a likely culprit - a skinny blond kid (maybe 15 years old?) in the next car over. I decided that I'd rather face off against the kid than deal with the insurance nightmare of getting my car replaced.

Cut to me in the backseat of the moving car, getting really pissed off because not only has the kid carjacked me, he's eating the snack that I bought for myself to enjoy on the drive home! The gall! It was clearly time to act.

I grabbed both his hands and got them behind his head. Suddenly my big brother was in the car with me, holding the steering wheel while I held the kid's wrists together. My brother steered the car home (to our childhood home, in which we haven't lived for the last six years). We wrestled the kid inside and I called 911.

The first time I called I got a recording:
Thank you for calling 911. Please hold for the next available operator. If you would like to speak to a supervisor, press 2. (in an undertone, I heard the same voice mutter, "they'd better not press 2. The supervisor's not here today.") I called again and this time got a lady who pretty much laughed me off the phone, even after I told her I had interrupted a carjacking in progress. She seemed to think it was no big deal, and told me that they had nobody who could deal with the situation at present.

Cut to the family room. The kid is lounging on the couch with my two brothers (waiting for the cops to come to their senses and pick him up? I don't know). He reveals that he just lives up the street with his mom and sister. Just then, a uniformed guy arrives at the door. He sizes up the situation and charges the kid with "being a dumb criminal" ("you make the real criminals look bad, kid. Don't try this again.") and congratulates me on having thwarted the boy. My dad arrives home and tries to "tip" the officer with a $50 bill. Somehow my brothers make it seem like the officer got the money, but manage to get it out of sight before the officer sees that he's been offered a tip/bribe. He takes the kid home. As they leave, I realize that the officer's uniform says "forestry and recreation" - he's some kind of park ranger. The 911 dispatcher couldn't be bothered to send the police.

Any interpretations, dear readers?

Phineas and Barnaby

2009-10-12T15:34:00.004-04:00

On Saturday, we transferred two 8-celled embryos. They were our only two, and I'm thankful that they both seemed to be dividing and growing properly. We were given a lovely picture of the two of them - it's now up on my fridge, which seems silly even to me, but was the only place safe from toddler interference.

The embryos need nicknames. I've finally settled on Phineas and Barnaby... you know, these guys (from Family Guy):

I can just imagine them in there, riding their ridiculous turn-of-the-century bicycle and working out with microscopic little anvils. Oh, and implanting themselves.

Beta will be October 23.

eggs behaving badly

2009-10-08T13:46:00.002-04:00

We just got the fertilization report:

11 eggs
9 were mature
2 fertilized

Yes, that's right. Only two fertilized. The lab said they'd watch them til tomorrow to give the rest a chance, but so far these eggs definitely look like underachievers.

So much for having extras to freeze...

Just say "yes", kids.

2009-10-07T22:24:00.002-04:00

I'd be a poor choice for a high school teacher or a youth-group advisor - in fact, it's a good thing I left that particular job at my synagogue. If I were to teach a class tomorrow, the lesson would be two-fold:

1. Don't waste your money on birth control. That whole thing about sex making babies? A myth! Save up your money, put it in bonds, and you might have enough money for that IVF one day.

2. Say yes to drugs. As emphatically as possible. They're soooooo awesome.

So yeah... the retrieval went well, as far as I can remember. In my Fentanyl-induced haze I was vaguely aware that a needle repeatedly puncturing my ovaries would be excruciating if I wasn't drugged, but I was able to observe it with a degree of detachment. We got 11 eggs all together. They'll call us with a fertilization report tomorrow.

I thought I'd be able to enjoy a quiet afternoon at home with Mr. December, but I fell asleep as soon as we got home and only woke up a couple of times to beg for a popsicle ("no, not that one, that one's pineapple. I wanted Tutti Frutti!!!!"). I'm finally feeling lucid, and sore, and trying to figure out what exactly constitutes "more than slight spotting". If the toilet paper is covered in pink-and-brownish goo every time I wipe, does that warrant a call to the clinic?

Here we go...

2009-10-07T06:29:00.001-04:00

We're about to leave for the clinic. Let's hope I only have to go through this once.

I'll update as soon as I can, allowing of course for several hours of general loopiness.

La di dah

2009-10-05T05:01:00.003-04:00

I'm sitting up, waiting for Kali to go back to sleep after a way-too-early awakening. No point in going back to bed if she's just gonna start wailing again.

Why am I blogging this? Because otherwise, I'd have no chance to show off how cute and funny my kid is: she's trying to sing herself back to sleep. And her choice of song...

Brown Eyed Girl.

"la la la la la la di dah... la di dah..."

That's my baby!

coming soon...

2009-10-04T21:02:00.002-04:00

This Wednesday... the reproductive event of the season:

Dr. C: Beautiful cycle!
(flash to black; flash to ultrasound image of an over-laden ovary)

When all is known...

Dr. C's assistant: (measuring follicles) that's 1.5, and another.... 1.6, and another...

And all is revealed...

(flash to small counseling room: desk is littered with needles and vials: nurse stands between Mr. and Mrs. December)
Nurse: ... need to abstain for two to three days. So, when did you last...
Mr. December: (blushes) uh... a couple hours ago.

When you've come this far...

(close-up of syringe of orgalutran being injected subcutaneously)

Expect to go all the way.

From the creators of Kali comes a gripping new experience:

THE RETRIEVAL.
all your eggs are in one basket.

THIS WEDNESDAY.

Day 10

2009-10-02T10:50:00.003-04:00

Still feeling sick, and Kali has finally consented to nap, so I'll be very brief:

Lining: 0.9
Follicles: 15 of them, smallest is 1.0 and largest is 1.9. There are a bunch of smaller ones, too

I go back on Sunday for more monitoring. In the meantime, I'm to stick with the orgalutran and puregon.

Off to bed now. Happy Friday.

temporary disturbance in the force

2009-09-30T08:47:00.002-04:00

I'm sick. Miserably so... but I have a duty to my adoring public, no? (cue laugh track)

Yesterday I did the day 7 ultrasound and bloodwork. We've got roughly 19 follicles chugging along, and my lining is 0.6. So far, so good. I started orgalutran yesterday - it's supposed to keep me from ovulating spontaneously (you should have heard me laugh when they told me that one...). I go back on Friday for more monitoring. In the meantime, I'm still on 150 of Puregon.

Things I'd like to post about, if only I were feeling up to it:

- Yom Kippur in general
- this Yom Kippur, and the surprising reunion that defined it, in particular
- the many charms of Kali
- a pair of non-maternity jeans that fit and flatter me!
- mikvah
- progress on envy
- the sheer ludicrous beauty of my life right now

... and maybe I'd also do a bit on the google searches that have led people here.

But alas, back to my sickbed I go (*cough* *cough*).

Envy

2009-09-24T20:05:00.003-04:00

Before Kali was conceived, just before Kali was conceived, I wrote about finding joy in the midst of infertility, and how it seemed somehow like I had achieved the task that God had set out for me. It's not uncommon to believe that our difficulties exist for a reason; as a Jew I believe that my soul was given the opportunity to choose its path, knowing everything about it, and therefore the obstacles I face are part of my task in the universe. If only I knew what that task was.

I'm getting a sense, though, of what I need to do next. Not in terms of infertility, but in terms of my soul, my self; I believe this is the year that I am to learn how to control (and, hopefully, discard) my tendency towards envy.

A couple of illustrations:

1. I was 23 years old, and was finishing up my professional internship. While getting ready for work one day a good friend called to tell me she was engaged. Tears sprang to my eyes - she and her fiance had only been dating for a few months, whereas I had been dating Mr. December for six YEARS, and was desperately waiting for him to propose. I managed a breathless "congrats!", hung up, and headed to work. Not thirty minutes into my work day I had a complete breakdown. Sobbing, blubbering, I ran to the nearest room with a door and ended up telling all to my supervisor. Later that evening I confessed my sadness and anger to my parents: "It's like she butted in front of me! I've been waiting in this line much longer! It's not fair! I feel like Mr. D is never going to propose, and that makes me so unhappy!" My parents, particularly my father, were shocked and apparently unimpressed at my lack of sincere happiness for my friend. I was, eventually, able to be truly excited for her - two months later, when Mr. December proposed to me.

2. I was 26 years old and had just had a miscarriage at nine weeks, after seeing a heartbeat and being told everything was perfect. At the time I worked for a very small Jewish organization, and my boss was a wonderful man with a gorgeous wife and four perfect kids. It was about a month after my miscarriage, just about when my depression was at its worst. He told me (as gently as possible) that his wife was "expecting" again (I hate that euphemism, but I'll cover that another time) and that he wanted to be the one to tell me rather than having me find out in public and having to deal with it then. It was kind of him, but I broke down anyway. Through my tears I assured him that I was happy for them, but desperately sad for myself. It wasn't until I got to the car that heaving sobs overtook me. I called my mother and wailed, "How come God can make sure that Dov and his wife get five pregnancies and perfect, healthy children every time, and He can't give me ONE?!?!?!?" Ostensibly because of my depression, but catalyzed by this incident, I quit my job and spent the next eight months shutting out the world.

3. See yesterday's post.

As you see, I don't do well when reminded that other people have what I had wanted for myself. Not literally - I didn't want my friend's fiance, nor would I have liked to gestate and raise Dov's fifth child - but when I see others living experiences I've dreamt of, and been denied, I lose it.

I need not to. I want to be able to acknowledge others' happiness, congratulate them sincerely, and then continue to enjoy the blessings that have been bestowed upon me. I'm well aware that the world isn't fair; in fact, this has generally worked in my favour. But I'm still paralyzed, unable to move into the realm of counting my blessings and falling back on them when fate seems to be thumbing its nose at me. I need to watch Kali climb the jungle gym and laugh with her without lamenting the fact that I'm not also holding a newborn. I need to revel in Mr. December's love (and, dare I say, passion?) without feeling that our relationship is incomplete because we're not well on our way to having four children by age 35.

I know that sometimes I will be sad, and sometimes I will feel incomplete. But my goal for this year is that those feelings not be set off by other people's happy news. I need to kick envy to the curb.

It begins...

2009-09-22T22:49:00.003-04:00

The so-called "second wave" has begun.

Tonight I received an email. Our friend sent around a photo of her daughter (who is about six months younger than Kali) wearing a bib that read: "I'm going to be a big sister!"

This can only be the first of many such announcements; most of our friends have kids around Kali's age (but really, they're all younger) and all of them have admitted to wanting more children.

This friend's second child will be almost precisely two years younger than their first. That's the spacing I always idealized... that particular dream died for me when my April cycle didn't work out.

I wonder how many more such announcements I'll have to smile my way through before I get pregnant again. I wonder whether it will always hurt like this.

Not for me.

2009-09-21T12:46:00.002-04:00

There are fabulous stories floating around the blogosphere. Stories about BFNs on pee sticks all the way to 17 dpo. Stories of wonky cycles miraculously ending in pregnancy. Stories of infertiles who unexpectedly conceive baby #2 from sex! in their own bed! after thinking it impossible. I suppose those stories come true for some people.

But not for me.

Hope is insidious, and I was still holding onto it. Maybe the evap line I got was actually a really, really faint positive - wouldn't that be grand? But no, that happy news was not for me. The nurse just called. She assumed I already knew the result. I told her I didn't. "It's negative," she said, "I'm sorry." I bet she was. But not as sorry as I am.

I don't have the luxury of a good cry right now. The dishwasher repairman is coming in ten minutes, and I'm pretty sure I need to empty the dishwasher.

I'm tired of going down this road. So very tired of it. I really didn't think I'd be spending nine months straight at the fertility clinic, but here I am. Again.

When we hit the one-year mark, will they bake me a cake? Or will I have to throw my own pity party?

to do:

2009-09-20T21:28:00.003-04:00

- go to clinic for ~~ritual bloodletting~~ beta blood draw
- call appliance repair company, get them to come immediately and stop dishwasher from leaking into basement
- call telephone repair guy, get him to fix the bajillion phone jacks that, inexplicably, don't work
- call Mr. D's cellphone company, remind them that they can stop billing me now because I CANCELLED MY SERVICE FOUR MONTHS AGO, YOU IDIOTS.
- call insurance adjuster, ask why nobody has come to fix the window that was broken in the storm three weeks ago
- wake, dress, and feed toddler; turn loose in backyard and let nature take its course
- wash dishes from holiday meals, since the dishwasher probably isn't fixed yet
- answer the phone call from clinic, telling me that I'm not pregnant this time either
- cry
- feed Kali lunch
- do laundry
- help bat mitzvah student review her portion and learn new blessings
- make dinner
- clean up from dinner
- collapse into bed; cheer self up by reading Darcy and Elizabeth book

Seems doable, if I get an early enough start. Don't you agree?

Still negative

2009-09-20T21:00:00.003-04:00

You read that right. I POAS this morning again. Still negative, although I did get a lovely evap line some 10 hours later. Gah.

I really wish I could've written the opposite tonight. At least I had a chance to reflect and pray today, and am so grateful for so many things in my life, not least of which are Mr. December and Kali... and I continue to be thankful that we have the financial, logistical, and emotional wherewithal to pursue family-building, despite the challenges.

Shana Tova

2009-09-18T16:08:00.002-04:00

Tonight at sundown, a new year begins. We'll be celebrating by eating sweet foods (for a sweet new year), hearing the shofar (a wake-up call to take stock and become better people), and being with family and friends.

This morning's POAS yielded a negative, which was upsetting but not devastating. Maybe G-d just wants this happy news to be the kickoff to a new year, not the tail end of an old one. Maybe Monday morning will begin a very sweet year for us.

This year, I am endeavouring to not use my computer at all on Shabbat or holidays... so this is it. I'll be back online on Sunday night, and I'll update you on Monday regarding the beta.

Happy new year, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WORLD!

10 dpo - negatory.

2009-09-17T19:24:00.002-04:00

I couldn't help myself. I peed on a stick. It was negative.

I KNOW that 10 dpo is too early to know for sure. I KNOW that it could be positive tomorrow, on Monday, or even later. I know all that.

But I fear that Dr. Eyebrows is right: the previous IUI's haven't worked because of some other kind of problem, and that same problem will prevent this one from working, too. I fear that the upcoming holidays, this season of happiness, will be spent lamenting the children I don't have rather than celebrating the one I do. I fear that we won't get the happy resolution we're seeking here.

I wish I could go to sleep and wake up on Monday, after my beta. I wish I could just know already.

It's not about the dishwasher unless I make it so.

2009-09-16T19:28:00.003-04:00

A friend of mine just wrote a post about how, as an Orthodox Jew, she really regrets that she can't eat in someone's house just because they use the same dishwasher for both their meat and dairy utensils. She goes on to talk about how many people accuse the Orthodox of caring more about the dishwasher than about the friendship.

I understand that point of view. But I also think that it's not about the dishwasher until I decide that it is.

(full disclosure: I'm pretty sure that I'm the person my friend is referring to, given that we just had this conversation about her eating in my home. Maybe it comes up a lot, but I'm not betting on it.)

Here's my point:

I understand why, for an Orthodox Jew, it's impossible to eat things cooked in my pots and pans, served on my plates. It's like asking a paraplegic to walk up the steps into my house. Impossible. When that person says no, it's not a judgment - it's simply a statement of fact. So I can grouse about how offended I am, about how seriously I take my Judaism and how picky this friend is being. But ultimately, it's a fruitless exercise. Alternately, I can offer a solution or a compromise: eat in my home, but on paper plates. We'll order takeout. Or I can cook things in foil pans with single-use utensils.

It's just as if I invited a person who is wheelchair-dependent to my house with stairs. I could build a ramp. It won't be pretty, or as elegant a reception as I like to offer my guests. There are some parts of my house a wheelchair-dependent person would never be able to see. But we could still enjoy each other's company, a bite to eat, and stimulating conversation. It's not about the stairs, just as it's not about the dishwasher.

There are some of my much-loved recipes that my Orthodox friends will never taste. That's unfortunate, but far from a deal-breaker. Where I come from, hachnassat orchim (welcoming guests) is taken very seriously. It's about accommodating your guests to the best of your ability, and seeing to their needs, not to your own. And so I'm choosing to overlook the small sting to my pride and build the metaphorical ramp. And when we all sit around the table in the succah, breaking bread and celebrating together, the dishwasher won't even be relevant.

spotty at best.

2009-09-16T13:08:00.002-04:00

No, wait, that's spotting. Spotting. Which I don't have while on progesterone... except at 12dpo with Kali, and yesterday (8 dpo). Perhaps my body is just enjoying the last remaining way to play with me, but I'd rather think that there's an embryo burrowing in right about now.

Mr. December is home. I'm so relieved.

the absent EPS report, 7 dpo

2009-09-14T20:17:00.002-04:00

I can't honestly say that I've noticed any EPS so far. Well, there was that gushing nosebleed, but my sensible side says that's probably attributable to the fact that Kali poked her finger way up my nose in an attempt to wake me up. So the nosebleed means nothing.

Otherwise... no nausea, I'm only as tired as the progesterone makes me, and I'm not all mood-swing-y. I'm just here, kinda plugging along. It's kind of nice. Maybe I should spend every 2ww reading romance novels. Arousal beats anxiety. Every. Time.

T minus 36

2009-09-13T21:11:00.002-04:00

No, not the time til beta. I'm talking about time until Mr. December comes home.

In a fit of organization/decorating, I'm trying to pull a "while you were out" on him... sort of. I cleaned up the vegetable bed, planted fountain grass and decorative cabbage where there were bare patches, cleaned off the porch. The front hall will be getting cleaned up very shortly. I also replaced our rust-stained shower curtain (I can only bleach it so many times) and upgraded to those rolling shower curtain rings (I am so tired of the rings jumping off the rod because someone pulled the curtain too forcefully).

The house will be cleaned tomorrow. I really want him to walk into a cozy, clean, inviting home rather than into the pigsty this place has become.

And on that note, off I go to organize the medicine cabinet.

file under "stupid questions"

2009-09-11T22:24:00.002-04:00

Am I safe to assume that being in a near-constant state of arousal is probably a good thing, as it vastly increases blood supply to my uterus?

(Mr. December sent me flowers. I practically swooned. Off to do some reading now.)

I must admit...

2009-09-10T17:08:00.002-04:00

I bought the sequel to the sequel. I've read half of it already. With Mr. December out of town, I'm frustrated beyond belief. My sympathies are with teenage boys everywhere.

the embarrassing truth

2009-09-09T23:09:00.004-04:00

Okay, first things first: anybody who is leery of encountering TMI in regards to... um... non-medical stuff about me, stop reading when I tell you to.

We had the IUI on Monday morning. It went well, sperm were wonderfully motile, blah blah blah. I had acupuncture before and after, and honestly, it was fabulous - because it gave me a free pass to nap on a bed in the recovery room, instead of waiting in the waiting room for them to be ready for me. And true to form, they were ready for me a whole lot later than they said they'd be.

TMI coming up here. S'ok with me if you want to read this, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable.

So... the thing about the estrogen high I was on is that it made me... erm... somewhat randy. Okay, a lot randy. And it didn't help that I was reading a Pride and Prejudice sequel that more than hinted about the conjugal habits of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. Did I mention that I love reading bodice-rippers? Seriously, it's better than porn. Way better. Poor Mr. December.

Yes, you should pity him. Leading up to the IUI he was required to abstain for a couple of days. Here he was, uncharacteristically chaste, and there I was, really really enjoying my book. I'm not ashamed to say that I demanded satisfaction. And oh, it was good. And hey, I was well within my rights. According to Jewish law, a husband is required to make sure that he pleasures and satisfies his wife. Oh, how I love being Jewish!

It's amazing how happy I am in the wake of a weekend of conjugal bliss. Please remind me of this next time I start to feel anxious or depressed.

Now... where did I put that book?

One in a thousand.

2009-09-06T00:15:00.004-04:00

That's the number of women for whom Suprefact produces the opposite of the intended effect. One in a thousand. And I, dear internets, am that one.

Dr. Eyebrows was playing wand-monkey today. As soon as the probe was in, I saw it: my left ovary, completely taken over by two huge follicles. And my uterus, with a fat-looking triple-striped lining. No wonder my body was getting all estrogenic on me.

"So," I asked, "do we IUI these beauties?"

"Oh, yes." Said Dr. Eyebrows. "And if you get pregnant off this cycle, there's another case study in the making." He admired the perfect 9 mm lining, the gorgeous 2.1 and 2.0 follicles, and then printed off a picture for my file. I have to admit, it is a very pretty picture. I haven't had a response that beautiful in... um... ever? Maybe suprefact should be my IUI protocol from now on.

Anyhow, IUI is on Monday morning. We've decided to go whole hog and sign up for in-clinic acupuncture before and after the IUI. To be honest, I'm not that optimistic - the last five IUI's haven't worked, and what are the chances that was just dumb luck? But you never know. Maybe, just maybe...

Oh, and I shot up (HCG trigger) in a public bathroom again. Surely that counts for something, no?

dial "N" for "neurotic"

2009-09-03T19:56:00.002-04:00

Every time I peed today, I couldn't help noticing that I have a ton of EWCM. So I decided to check out what the ol' cervix was up to... and discovered that cervix is very much open, and high, and soft, and all of the other things associated with ovulation and/or an abundance of estrogen.

So I put it to the internets: isn't suprefact supposed to supress estrogen? If it is, and if I'm on a daily dose of suprefact, why is my body acting like it's on an estrogen high?

overdue update

2009-08-30T22:23:00.002-04:00

Sorry, folks. I just realized that both of my readers are probably waiting to hear about our consultation with Dr. Eyebrows.

We met with him on Tuesday. Basically he feels that if I haven't gotten pregnant after 5 IUI's, there may be other issues - tubal scarring that renders the cilia useless seems to be at the top of his list. Anyhow, he suggested moving forward with IVF.

We had the whole conversation about how many embryos he would recommend transferring. He usually does two for my age group and diagnosis. I'm okay with that. Mr. December, engineer that he is, thinks twins would be super-efficient. I think it's a risk I'm willing to take, but a singleton is my ideal outcome.

Dr. Eyebrows also asked us how many kids we want, ultimately. When we answered "four", he immediately started talking about freezing some embryos now for future use. He went into details of new techniques they're using that get them very similar success rates with a FET as with a fresh cycle. Sounds good to me. And frankly, I'm impressed that he asked. Somehow I always feel like people will assume that two kids are enough, especially in light of fertility issues. I wonder whether he would have flinched if I had told him I wanted ten kids? I guess I'll never know.

He described the protocol - wait until day 21, then start suprefact, wait for my period -

I interrupted right there. I don't get my period on any regular or predictable basis. We could be waiting a long, long time.

For some reason Dr. Eyebrows perked up when I said this. He suggested we do a quick ultrasound to see how things were looking. He determined that it looked like I wouldn't ovulate this cycle (surprised? not me) and my lining was extremely thin (at day 6)... so he informed us we could start right away! And we don't have to wait for a period!

So here I sit, with track marks on my belly, waiting for September 5 - my "assigned day 3". Mr. December feels certain this will work. I tried that attitude last time, and the crash was bad. I think I'll stick with "cautiously optimistic".

ps to Aurelia - I asked Dr. Eyebrows about the tests you mentioned. He felt that the statistical probability was just so low that blah, blah, blah... I didn't argue this time. Well actually, I did. But he kept giving me the "you probably read too much and you definitely worry too much" look, and so I dropped it. Maybe next time.

arrested reproduction

2009-08-18T21:35:00.002-04:00

I must apologize to all of my vegetables. Dearies, I will not allow your fruits to stay on the vine and rot, all for the purpose of granting you children. In fact, I plan to eat you AND your potential babies. MUA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

(harvested two pounds of beets and some carrots today)

What would you do?

2009-08-17T13:06:00.003-04:00

Forgot to mention: we're scheduled for a consultation with Dr. Eyebrows on August 25. If we wait for that, we'll essentially lose a month - or we could do a last-ditch IUI, have our consultation during that cycle, and then do the IVF starting in September.

Alternately, we can just go with the protocol that Nice Jewish Doctor has recommended, and skip the consultation altogether.

What would you do?

How does this happen?

2009-08-17T12:53:00.002-04:00

Is it just crap luck, or is there something wrong with me? This was our fifth cycle. We had follicles, we had sperm. The timing was clinically perfect. What gives? FIVE TIMES? WITH DRUGS? You have got to be f---ing kidding me.

My nurse just called. She had already asked Nice Jewish Doctor for new orders. He recommends IVF, starting with suprefact on day 21 of this next cycle and adding Puregon after I get my period. I reminded my nurse that I don't usually get my period unprompted, at least not for a couple of months. Whatever, we'll work it out.

I'm just not ready for this. The puregon pen I can handle. But the suprefact shots, followed by the puregon... not to mention my irrational fear of the retrieval itself, and the crazy voice in my head that's screaming WHAT IF I DO ALL THAT PAINFUL STUFF AND IT STILL DOESN'T WORK? THEN WHAT? HUH? HUH?

Right now Kali is napping. Out of sight, out of mind. That fearful crazy voice is taking over. I didn't think it would come to this. In fact, I had hoped to already be pregnant enough that everybody would know. It worked last time with Kali. Why isn't it working this time? Why us?

This feels like a petty problem. We have Kali. She's beautiful and sweet and smart and cute and she's ours. I'm a mommy, something I once feared I'd never get to be. But I'm greedy. I want more. Actually, I want four. (but not at the same time) And I don't want Kali to be 6 years old before I can produce a sibling for her. I don't want these huge age gaps. Two years, perfect. Three years, also fine. Three and a half years... well, if that's the best we can do... but four years or more just seems like such a huge gap to me. And if our gap between numbers one and two is so big, will we ever get to four?

I called my mom after I heard from the nurse. Mom's coming over with a slice of pizza and some hugs for me. I just don't feel like doing anything anymore.

Adding insult to injury...

2009-08-17T09:48:00.002-04:00

The blood test was very painful today. That's unusual for me - I have fabulous veins and B. is the best phlebotomist I've ever worked with... but today it hurt. Badly. I cried.

I feel like my nerves are totally frayed. I'm basically okay for the moment, but I feel like anything could set me off. I came home and cried for a while while Kali tried to feed me goldfish crackers and Mr. December stroked my head and said, "next month, honey". Yeah, next month. Where have I heard that before?

Hm. BFN. Hm...

2009-08-14T08:01:00.003-04:00

I didn't realize exactly how certain I've been that I'm pregnant. Apparently I'm very certain, because this morning I POAS and saw only one line, yet my only thought was "hm... I guess it's not ready to show up yet". So I guess I'm in BFN denial. I'm sure it's a protective measure, since I let my guard down for about two seconds just now and was overcome by a wave of sadness and disbelief.

Really, how could this cycle not work? I mean, I know it's possible. But we had good sperm, a fabulous lining, one big juicy follicle on each side... and I've been feeling so good about the cycle. And gagging, and almost puking, and yesterday my boobs were sore. How could it not work?

Waning positivity

2009-08-11T23:00:00.002-04:00

It's not easy to be positive at 8 dpo.

On IUI day, you can crow about your fabulously fecund follicles, or the fact that dh's sperm are looking "well powerful" this cycle. At 1, 2, 3, 4, even 5 and 6 dpo, you can talk about how it's way too early for symptoms but you just have a feeling it's all gonna work out this time. But once you hit 8, almost 9 dpo, it's hard to ignore the nagging feeling that nothing is happening. Nothing.

So that's where I am, folks. I just don't know. If I were less cowardly I'd POAS already, but I'm too scared to spend the next 6 days cursing the fact that I just KNOW it didn't work and yet I have to keep taking the progesterone.

Anybody have some chocolate?

gag.

2009-08-09T20:10:00.002-04:00

Tonight, on the eve of 7 dpo, I suddenly jumped up from the table and ran towards the bathroom, gagging all the way. When I finally gave myself permission to puke, I dry heaved a couple of times. Nothing more.

I'd love for this to be an EPS, but I can't help thinking that back in January I puked at 3 dpo for absolutely no reason. I wasn't pregnant. I have no idea what was up. Every cycle my body seems to up the ante (as EPS go), so I guess this is the logical next step.

But still, after dry heaving, what am I supposed to think? Sure, I'd like to tell you that this post is just a blase FYI and that you need not comment, but the truth is that I'm in the mood for a resounding chorus of "sounds like a BFP in the works!" It might not be true, but I wouldn't mind pretending tonight.

Pregnant... until proven otherwise

2009-08-05T19:02:00.002-04:00

Thanks for all your good wishes... I left the clinic after the IUI feeling very positive. I was quite crampy, which is not normal for me, and then I had some faint spotting, which probably means that my cervix was just feeling a bit sensitive but I'll take it as a good sign anyway. I POAS when I got home to see how quickly the test line would come up (from the HCG trigger). Basically, I'm feeling all the hope that I haven't felt in many, many months. It helps that the stats were so good, too.

But right now I'm just tired. Exhausted. Practically unable to keep my eyes open any longer... and it's only 7 p.m. Progesterone is doing its thing again. I'd better get used to it, though... I plan to be feeling progesterone-crappy for a long time - because I'm pregnant.

(until proven otherwise)

IUI tomorrow

2009-08-02T13:52:00.002-04:00

The stats look good to me:

lining - 10mm
left ovary - 21mm follicle
right ovary 18 mm follicle

I triggered last night and we're going in tomorrow to get inseminated. Wish us luck!

I am so immature...

2009-07-28T21:16:00.002-04:00

... but you know what makes me laugh uncontrollably?

The phrase "like throwing a hot dog down a hallway." Seriously. Because this one time I actually pictured it, and started thinking about the futility of throwing a hotdog (even a giant sausage, or to be more ambitious, a huge salami) down a hallway (even a tiny little hallway like the one that runs from my bathroom to the guest bedroom) and WHOA. Uncontrollable laughter.

Really. Take your time. Cook a hotdog. Grab it (no bun, that's cheating, or at least major "hotdog" surgery) and toss it down the hall. Javelin-style is my method of choice, but you can be creative. Watch it fly through the air. It makes no contact with the walls, there is no pleasing friction whatsoever. The hallway is completely oblivious ("um, did you throw it yet?"). And then the hotdog passes the peak of its trajectory and falls to the floor with a flaccid slap.

Can you honestly say that you've tried visualizing it, and you're not laughing? Really?

So this is why I'm chortling tonight. What makes you laugh?

Irrational IVF fear

2009-07-23T20:04:00.002-04:00

This is gonna sound really stupid, because I'm sure that there are scarier aspects of IVF (like the sedation, or the bigass needle they poke THROUGH your vagina to get to the eggs), but I'm really scared of PIO. It sounds like a giant scary shot that'll leave me with a lumpy, itchy ass, and I want no part of it.

Aurelia - does our clinic use PIO? Or will Dr. Eyebrows let me get away with the suppositories?

Post-game analysis, delayed.

2009-07-22T17:31:00.002-04:00

So when my nurse called with the negative beta result, she asked me what we'll be doing next cycle. I asked her to check with Dr. Eyebrows and get back to me. Apparently Dr. Eyebrows really wants us to come in for another review appointment.

Are you ready for the kicker?

His next available appointment is...

August 25.

In theory, this would mean missing out on one, possibly two cycles. Probably two. You know I'm not a patient woman. Losing two cycles? No thank you! I've decided that while we're waiting for Dr. Eyebrows to meet with us, we'll try another round or two of IUI with femara. I got follicles, as many as I did with puregon, so I don't see that it's a problem.

Or maybe I'll do one cycle with Femara and take the other "off", and just drink lots of Fertilitea so that I ovulate. That might be fun... and cheap.

Adding insult to injury...

2009-07-19T18:31:00.003-04:00

I still have crazy EPS. Sore boobs, low back aches, and I'm the queen b**ch today. Seriously, I cannot believe some of the things coming out of my own mouth. It's a good thing Mr. December is a patient and good-humoured man.

At least my royal bitc*iness paid off at Home Depot... we came home with a barbecue for significantly less than they originally wanted. Score one for my inner bi*ch and the bargaining skills she honed in Tunisia.

BFN.

2009-07-18T22:13:00.002-04:00

Today is 13 dpo, and the pee stick is negative. Another day, another negative test, another chunk of money spent on fertility treatments. Life goes on, I suppose.

Et tu, supernose?

2009-07-17T13:21:00.004-04:00

I can smell fresh earth. Someone on my street is digging up a garden bed. And here I am in my living room, smelling it like it's right under my nose.

Ah yes, supernose. Harbinger of pregnancy... or progesterone.

My symptoms will do anything and everything not to let me know whether I'm pregnant or just crazy. I think I'll call it the EPS Omerta.

UPDATE at 3:51 p.m.:

I will not be swayed. Absolutely not. Even though when I walk into my recently renovated (i.e. completely gutted and rebuilt) bathroom, I can distinctly smell the odors of smoke and cat pee that the previous owners so kindly left for us.

did anybody get the license plate...

2009-07-15T18:15:00.002-04:00

... of the Mack truck that hit me?

The progesterone is hitting me hard today. Earlier I had that "if I don't eat I'm gonna vomit" sensation. We came home from a trip to the petting zoo, Kali went straight to bed, and so did I. It was 1:45.

It's now 6:17, and I woke up 20 minutes ago. I could easily go right back to bed.

You know, I wouldn't mind these side effects if there was a good reason, namely pregnancy. But dealing with the progesterone and knowing that I'm probably not pregnant, well, that's just bull. I hate it. I hate that I lost three productive hours today when I could have been gardening, or restoring our garden bench, or even visiting with a friend. It just plain sucks.

Proud parenting moment

2009-07-14T19:24:00.002-04:00

I thought I was proud when Kali ate a mouthful of dirt a while back. But really, nothing could please me more than what I saw today.

I gave Kali a cup of juice and then went back to cooking dinner. After a while I realized I hadn't heard her in a while, so I investigated. There was giggling coming from the back of the house, and I found her in the hallway near her bedroom.

She was holding a blankie and her baby doll, lying on her back, feet up on the wall, staring at the sunlight dancing off the wall, and giggling.

Other parents have lofty goals for their kids; to know the alphabet by age one, to read Chaucer before nursery school, to bring world peace with nothing but fishsticks and a ball of rubber bands. My main parenting goal is even loftier - I want Kali to become completely able to entertain herself without adult intervention or direction. I'm her mom, not her recreation director.

(this post has been brought to you by big N and little n - what begins with those? Oh yeah, nine new neckties, nightshirt, NOSE!)

6dpo, and clarification

2009-07-11T20:58:00.002-04:00

It's 6dpo... again.

Not that I have anything to report, because our last cycle led me to conclude that there are absolutely no reliable, definitive EPS. No, I'm just kinda keeping count... so that I remember to go in for my beta next week.

It's not that I'm totally pessimistic. In my book, pessimism is saying, "this isn't going to work, because it never works, and I'm never gonna get pregnant." I really do think I'm just realistic. "This probably won't work, because - let's face it - IUI only boasts a 25% chance of working in any given cycle. So it could work, but it probably won't. Whatever." See the difference?

I have a favourite quote about ttc, from my former favourite show on TV: "G-d is going to send us a baby. We just have to do all the paperwork, and be persistent to the point of obnoxious." (Charlotte on SATC)

I can do obnoxious. Embarrassingly well, actually. Please, just remind me not to shoot any obnoxious my in-laws' way... they probably got enough from me when we were ttc the first/second time.

Pessimism, or reality?

2009-07-05T23:04:00.002-04:00

So I got inseminated today...

(huh. It sounds like the beginning of a very offbeat stand-up comedy set, but I don't know where to take it from here. Any thoughts?)

Anyhow. The day before the trigger I had a follicle at 17mm, and the next one behind was 13 mm. So really, we're probably just talking about one follicle.

We had 18 million motile sperm post wash, which is pretty decent.

Nice Jewish Doctor said, "it looks really good. I think you've got a great chance this cycle". To which I responded, "um, thanks, but we've heard that before."

"And you've gotten pregnant before," he pointed out. "Try to stay positive. It helps."

Well, thanks, doc. I may have gotten pregnant before, but that was once, out of six cycles that looked "really good".

Am I being pessimistic, or just realistic? And does it really have any bearing on whether or not sperm meets egg, sperm likes egg, egg reciprocates warmly, and they decide to make a baby?

Be careful what you wish for...

2009-07-02T09:45:00.002-04:00

Last night I prayed. I asked G-d, please, for a healthy singleton pregnancy.

I've been on puregon 75iu this cycle, and at day 10 I had 11 follicles. The doctors started talking about IVF conversion or just canelling the cycle. Hence the prayer.

Went in for monitoring today... I have a lead follicle at 1.7 and the rest are all 1.1 or smaller. We'll likely only have one egg to inseminate this time around.

I'm not complaining - not getting pregnant this cycle would be infinitely better than getting pregnant with quintuplets and having to reduce. But seriously, one follicle? I did better on the Femara most cycles. Oh, and let's not mention the fact that we were trying to get at least one follicle on each side, but here we are with a follicle on the right. I could be wrong, but I believe I had one on the left ovary when I got pregnant with Kali.

So here we are. I've spent $800 on drugs and my chances don't look any better than when I was just spending $35 on Femara.

What's wrong with this picture?

the latter.

2009-06-17T21:49:00.002-04:00

The sonohystogram itself was not bad. Definitely less painful than a 10-hour visit with my in-laws.

I saw my uterus on screen. Then, using the doppler ultrasound, we were able to see the saline making its way through my tubes and shooting out the ends. Apparently I have "beautiful" fimbrulae (sp?). The left tube is wide open, and the right is open as well, although not as much. The doc was satisfied with what he could see and assured me that the contrast dye wouldn't give us any additional information.

Bottom line - there's nothing wrong with my girly bits, except for how the ovaries function. No new insight. At least this means we can put off spending $10,000 on IVF... for now.

I was feeling okay, just a bit crampy, after the procedure. Two hours later I was on the couch, unable to move, with a sharp stabbing pain in my abdomen. The doc said it could be cramping, or an effect of the antibiotic, or a mix of both. I'm to call again if I develop a fever or if the pain gets even worse.

I can't help but feel that this has been a total waste of a day.

sonohysterical...

2009-06-16T21:03:00.002-04:00

well, maybe not hysterical... but I'm starting to feel like I might maybe later get nervous about the sonohystogram tomorrow.

Wish me luck. I have no idea whether I'll spend tomorrow afternoon feeling fine and being productive, or lying on the couch moaning. Your guess is as good as - nay, better than - mine.

Passive-aggresive? Or just aggressive?

2009-06-12T15:18:00.002-04:00

Thank you all for your comments about the SHG vs. HSG. I wasn't quite ready to confront Dr. Eyebrows about it again, since I did ask and he gave me an answer. So... I called the SHG place to confirm my appointment, and I casually asked the nurse, "this is going to give us a really clear picture of my tubes, right? because my friend said that it usually only shows the uterus..." She replied that they can sometimes see the tubes with the saline test, but that if I really wanted we can do the ultrasound with a special contrast dye so that we can see everything. It costs an extra $150, which is not covered by OHIP. I signed up for that one too.

She asked me whether she should call Dr. Eyebrows and check about the contrast dye. I think my exact words were, "it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission. It's my uterus and my money, so I say do it and just send him all the results." She laughed and agreed.

Now, the prep instructions...
- they want a full bladder for an abdominal ultrasound (boo!). I hate those "full bladder" tests... really hate them. I'd rather have a million dates with the dildo-cam.
- I should take 400 mg of Advil an hour before the test. Hmm... I'm thinking maybe 800mg instead?
- I should have a light breakfast and a light dinner the night before. (she also mentioned that I should try to "empty the bowels" right before the test too. how does she propose I do that? is this a subtle way of saying, "please do an enema?" 'cause dude, the answer to that is NO FUCKING WAY.)
- I've been given an antibiotic to be taken with food. Apparently it's very hard on the stomach. Lurvely.

So, does this sound normal? Weird? Kinky?

I just hope this actually gives us some news we can use.

(oh, and do you think it's too passive-aggressive of me to just request the contrast dye behind Dr. Eyebrows' back?)