"But I know one thing; I love you."

We're finally home!

Our move to the new house was so great, our movers were great, the house is amazing and we are both so happy.

On the baby front, I'll be 18 weeks tomorrow and the babies are both fine and I can feel them kicking now.  There hasn't been anymore bleeding since the last episode and I hope it will stay that way.

Also, there was a buck (deer) in our backyard and at night, I can hear owls hooting.  It's great to be back in the country!

Lastly, I am in love with my wife.

"Please don't take my sunshine away."

I really don't like this whole bleeding while pregnant thing.  And not even because I'm bored and about to develop bedsores.


I was already anxious about being pregnant.  It was scary enough to know that finally, after all the IUI's and IVF's, I had creatures growing in me and that something could go wrong at any minute.  Now that something has officially gone wrong, I feel like this ticking time bomb.  I can always tell when I'm going to bleed because I can't sleep the night before.

whatever.

"Take me home, country road"

Also, in an amazing turn of events, the house we put an offer on (and on which we were outbidded by another buyer) has just become ours!  Like 5 minutes ago.


Babies and a house?  What am I like 35 or something?

"Sittin' on the dock o' the bay, wastin' time."

My ass is numb and I'm bored.

Why?

Because this couch I've been sitting on for the last 6 days is incredibly uncomfortable and daytime TV is just so damn trashy.

But Courtney, why are you sitting on the couch when you are supposed to be at work?  Have you won the lottery?  No, that can't be it... you would have bought a new couch...

+10xp for logic.  No I have not won the lottery.  Instead, I have developed a subchorionic hematoma also known as a perigestational bleed.  Thus, I have been placed on bed rest until further notice.

Gasp!


Exciting, I know.  It all started very early in the morning last thursday.  At about 5 AM, I was making my routine 16th trip to the bathroom because my bladder is now the size of an electron.  Much to my dismay, when I reached the bathroom, I was greeted by the sight of blood dripping down my legs.  Calmly, I screamed "What the fuck?" at the cat who was sleeping in the bathroom sink.  As the cat fishtailed out into the dark hallway I took a deep breath to gather my wits and proceeded to tear into the bedroom.  Not wanting to scare my sleeping wife I gently and rationally shoved her awake screaming "Get up I'm bleeding!  The babies are dying!"

8 hours later, we returned from the emergency room with our diagnosis and two very healthy fetuses still swimming around though the radiologist wouldn't show me the ultrasound images.

I saw my OB on monday.  This time, I was able to see the ultrasound.  Fucking Wild.  The kids have feet.  And legs.  Skinny creepy fetus legs.  And they were doing handsprings.  Literally.  Two creepy fetuses practicing Le Parcour inside me.   OB confirmed my bleed but said it was on the small side so that was good news.  However, I am not allowed to leave the house on foot for longer than 5 minutes for at least the next two weeks.  I am also not allowed to have orgasms.  Yes, I'm home alone, filled with raging hormones and have complete, unfettered access to a universe of online porn.... the agony.

I AM allowed to do light housework for short increments.  Oh Joy.


So, here I sit, bored with a numb ass but grateful that I can still be a jungle gym for the kids.

"It's gettin' better everyday!"

Clearly it's been awhile.

-I'll be 10 weeks on friday.
-Guac and Tac are both fine as far as I know, though my last ultrasound was at 8 weeks.
-Morning sickness finally showed up wearing her bells on monday morning.
-Pregnancy has rendered me unable to parallel park (?!)
-I am exhausted.
-I'm starting to look somewhat bigger.
-I'm craving apples, salad and chili.
-We put an offer on a house in CT.
-I'm so excited about starting my grown-up life I can hardly stand it.

Also, I'm pregnant.

Like, for real.

"Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue..."

Today's post was going to be called :

"If I'm pregnant, how come I still feel infertile?"



Alas, that post will have to wait for another day.



Instead today's post will be called:

"Do twins really need two cribs or can they share?"



Yep.  Guac came with a sibling.  Meet Taco (Tac).


We found Tac during our ultrasound yesterday.  I have to say I'm much more excited that I imagined I'd be at the prospect of twins.  Of course, it instantly compounded my anxiety that something horrible would happen and .... lets not even go there.

"Full On, Double Rainbow, All The Way!


Glad it wasn't a triple rainbow...

"Goodness gracious great balls of fire"

Yesterday was the second beta...

530-ish (yeah I forgot to write the exact number down... )

He said that was right on track with a doubling time of like 1.75 days or something.


Hooray for the little guacamole (hereafter known as "the guac")


We surprised my mom with the news last weekend.  Good story!  Here's the email she sent out afterwards:

Great news family and friends,

 

Courtney and The wife are having a baby!!!!!!  Yay!

 

And here's how they told me.....

 

Last night I was out with my sisters, cousin and aunt to see "Eat, Pray, Love" and then have dinner at the diner. 

After finishing my rather mediocre quesadillas the waitress came up to our table with this gi-normous napoleon pastry and asked if one of us was Vicki Brooks.  When I said it was me she plopped the giant pastry down in front of me and said, "Congratulations, Grandma, from your soon to be first grandchild!"

 

After I stopped screaming, crying and shaking I lunged at the waitress with the biggest hug and thank you.  The whole place started clapping.  It was all very exciting.  But the fun was not over.  I ran out to call Scott to congratulate him only to find out Scott had know since Tuesday.  I also found out I'm to refer to him as "Pappy" from now on!!

 

So then it was time to call Courtney and Wife.  I was barely making sense while I blubbered out the story of how the waitress told me.  They were laughing and let me know they had called all the diners in a 20 mile radius from the movie theater because I wasn't at the Mohegan Diner where I said I would be.  We decided on a different one closer to our cousin and aunts home.  The girls told me there were waiters walking around all these diners with napoleons in their hands asking everyone if they were Vicki Brooks.  The funniest thing was that in one of the diners (the one we were originally supposed to go to) there was a group of 6 women talking about the movie.  Imagine the shocked look on their faces when their waiter came over to announce congratulations for you first grandchild!!!???

 

Well, we had a good laugh over that and I hung up to head home and hug "Pappy" over our good news.

 

When we got home Scott met us down in the basement to help us carry stuff up (in case we had done any shopping, which, oddly enough for us, we hadn't).  I did have some trays that my sister had given me and when I got in the house I went into my "brand new Butler's pantry in my brand new craft room" (thanks Steven, for moving out) and who was sitting there but Courtney and Wife.  Another scream and before I knew it we were hugging and jumping for joy (and a little crying on my part).  What a wonderful way to find out such terrific news.  I'm so honored they went to all the trouble to make this such a joyous time for me.

 

So now we enter a new chapter in our lives....the love 'em and then send 'em home chapter!  Please say a prayer for a strong, happy pregnancy followed by a healthy little bundle (or bundles....we don't know yet, could be twins) of joy!

 

Love, Vicki

 

P.S.  Both of them are already glowing!

How awesome are we?

This baby is going to be a rock star!
 

"It's the time of the season..."

Beta was 162.


I think that's a good number for 9dp5dt.

Right?


I'm pregnant!

Holy shit!


Beta #2 on monday.


hahaha and I thought the constant anxiety would end with that second pink line.


The baby's name is guacamole.

"Oh little rulebreaker, how do I break so well?"

As I said, my beta is on Friday.

Wanna know what else is on Friday?

The 13th!

*Facepalm*


But seriously, full on double rainbow all the way!


The best part of this,  the wife is so excited that she is letting me pee on as many sticks as I want without chastisement!

"Do you believe in magic..."

Positive tests all day.


This afternoon's test came up dark, dark, dark in like 5 seconds.


Beta is on Friday.


I want to believe this is it.... I think maybe I do.....

"Welcome back, Mr. Weatherbee..."

Opinions?

Trigger?

Baby?

Elaborate government conspiracy?

"It just started quietly and grew..."

How long does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?

My guess:
Approximately as long as it takes two Ovidrel 250's to leave my body.


Here's another one.

Question:
What does it mean if I tested BFN on saturday and sunday morning?  What does it mean if I tested BFP Sunday night, this morning and all afternoon?


Answer:
Time to take the tests away.


5dp5dt.

12dp trigger

10 months since I passed beyond the threshold of sanity.

"Down with the moral majority cuz' I wanna be the minority!"

I forgot to mention...

We won!


If I get pregnant, I'm naming this baby David Boies!  If it's twins, the other one is Ted Olson.  Yes, even if I have girls.

"I don't really know ya but I think I could love ya..."

Docking complete, captain.


Today we transferred two grade 5AA blastocysts.  I have no idea what grade 5AA means other then very pretty blastocysts.  The I had discussed transferring 3 blasts but the embryologist (in addition to my wife) strongly cautioned against doing that many because of my age and because of the very high quality of my blasts.  One was even starting to hatch!

So, now it's time to play our favorite game.  No, not the waiting game... the mind game!  You know, the one where I talk myself into every pregnancy symptom under the sun and then feel guilty!  Yay!

But seriously, I swear I felt in implant already.


In other news:
SC (a student of mine) informed me yesterday that my Dad looks like a bald cat and my wife looks like a dog who bites me.  The wonders never cease.

"To dream the impossible dream..."

Egads.


Tomorrow is the transfer.  I wish the lab had given us a status report today.  Oh well.  No news is good news?  God I hope there's something left...

"I hope you dance.."

Fertilization/Growth Report:

10 mature eggs.
6 fertilized.
2 8-cell grade 1 embryos.
4 6&7-cell grade 2 embryos.



The stress is absolutely killing me.  In fact, I may have died already.  I'll get back to you on that one.

PS-Are my cats the only ones who really don't seem to understand the "Emery Cat?"

"Hey soul sister.."

3 days of Gonal-F

3 days of Follistim

2 shots of Ganirelix

2 Ovidrel triggers

and the result?


11 sparkly eggs!


"Full-on Double Rainbow All The Way!"

Tomorrow is the big day.  Egg retrieval day!  I can't even stand myself right now.  The only reason I'm not still wandering around the house in full bipolar disarray is because I can't walk and type.


As my wife keeps telling me, "Double rainbow all the way!"

"I say a little prayer for you"

I had the dildo-cam on monday and the gonal-f/follistim combo had resulted in a billion follicles.

My lining is already 13mm.


Can this please just work now?

Thanks.

"Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me"

Sperm and egg ain't got nothing on me.

"Stop, hey, what's that sound?"

Today I said goodbye to Clomid and hello to Gonal-F.

That's right, folks.  We're pulling out the big guns now.


And to celebrate, a quote from my student, SC:

"I saw a dog outside.  You know that dog.  That girl dog.  She's pretty like a dog.  Like a pretty dog with eyelashes.  I have a Jeep because I have a Jeep."

Yes.  These things actually come out of his mouth.

"Drove my chevy to the levee but the levee was dry..."

Epic fail.


Please send kittens.

"Don't stop believing... hold on to that feeling"

I would like to know how I am going to get through the next week... I've never been so unsprung in my life.


I wouldn't be this bad if I wasn't weighed down by the fact that were gonna have to take a break if this doesn't work.  We just don't have the money to try again right away.

Ok, that's a lie.  It would still be this bad.


I have been having little cramps all day.  But that could totally be just in my head.


Jesus.

"One small step, first right then left. I'm never gonna stop."

More good news yesterday!  We went in for our transfer and the embryologist informed us that our embryo is advanced for his age!  He was only supposed to be 8 cells yesterday but, to everyone's surprise, he was already a compacting morula on the way to the blastocyst stage!  Yay!!!!   He was given a grade of 1+ which they said was better then the best.

We even got a picture.

The transfer went well.  The gave us a really high percentage of success because of how quickly the cells were progressing.  My wife and I are so damn excited and incredibly scared.  We know it's still a long shot because we only had one egg... but at least it was a good egg.

So, now I'm home trying to rest and give the little guy a good chance to hatch and implant.  Also, I have to keep reminding myself that he's microscopic and there's no way on earth I should be feeling him hatch.

"She blinded me with science!"

Our omelet made it to four cells this morning!  The embryologist called and told us it was a beautiful grade 1 (the best) embryo!  Yes!

We grappled a bit with the decision to do a 3 day transfer or a 5 day transfer.  Our RE really was pushing for the 5dt but, after I did some of my own research, I just felt like it was a bad idea.  We only have one embryo and most embryo's that arrest do so between days 3-5.  It's much harder to sustain the embryo in the in vitro medium after day 3.  Most experts seem to believe that the in vitro medium, even the new advanced ones, are just not as good as the womb environment.  Women who get a lot of fertilized eggs do much better with the 5dt because, most times, they will have a few that reach the blastocyst stage on day 5.  In our case,  it seems like tempting fate to wait out the five days when we only have one shot.  It would destroy us to think that we had a viable embryo and let it die sitting in a petri dish.

Let P = "The womb is better than the petri dish"

Let A = "Healthy embryos can arrest between day 3-5 due to culture intolerance"

Let Q= "A 3 day embryo dies in the womb."

Let D= "A 3 day embryo dies in the dish."

Let Y= "We should choose a three day transfer"

Let X= "We have many embryos to transfer"

so

~X.(P.A).(Q->D)->Y

Learn about logic!

Yeah.  It's been awhile but, I'm close I think....

Basically, it boiled down my wife and I trusting our instincts and hopefully, we made the right decision.

I can't believe our kid is only 4 cells old and already giving us gray hair.

Alright, omelet.  8 cells tomorrow!  You can do it! 

"I'm walkin' on sunshine..."

100 mgs of Clomid....


10 mature follicles....


1 egg.


Yep, 1 lone egg from 10 follicles.  Unbelievable.  At least we know why I have not gotten pregnant... I have probably not really ovulated many, if any, actual eggs.  Needless to say, yesterday was a very somber affair.


But, this morning, we got our first bit of good news since we started trying almost 11 months ago...


we're fertilized!


Our one little egg is now an omlet!


So, we've cleared two hurdles.  The next hurdle is having the omlet continue to develop and the having it implant.  We're not out of the woods yet but, we're on our way!


Keep your fingers crossed for the omlet!

"Sunshine go away today, I don't feel much like dancing..."

Oh lord.

This whole IVF thing is really happening and tomorrow, they are going to stick needles into my ovaries via my crotch and then I will know once and for all if I have eggs.

This is a sentence nobody should ever have to write.

"Where didja come from? Where didja go?"

I had my monitoring appointment today.  In an interesting turn of events, the ultrasound tech could not find my left ovary.  Seriously.  In a very fetish porn movie fashion, she was basically stirring my vagina with the dildo-cam trying to locate my rogue ovary and was unable to do so for almost 5 minutes.  5 minutes is a very long time when you're spread-eagle in a freezing room with a old lady swirling a shaft around your nether regions.  Finally, she used her elbow and squashed my bladder down and lo and behold, my ovary!  She rejoiced while I tried not to pee on the table.

By the way, it feels like I am carrying two large bunched of grapes around in my pelvis.  Billions of follicles.

What the hell is up with this font?  It's out of control!

Nevertheless, egg retrieval is scheduled for Friday at 11AM.  OMFG!

"Come a little bit closer, you're my kind of man..."

I have a million follicles.

100mg of clomid for 5 days and I have a million follicles.  And by a million, I mean 12-14.  So, yay, I guess.

Monitoring this morning.  As always, everything looks perfect.  I feel like the day the doctor says, "oh god, this cycle is a hot mess!" will be the day I get pregnant.  The word "perfect" scares me.

Also, the idea of my 5'-2" 98 pound russian doctor calling anything a "hot mess," cracks me up.

I wonder if anyone else has seen the commercial for wheat thins where a woman is surrounded by an  ominous swirling cloud of crackers?  She has to break though by lunging at the crackers and snapping at them with her teeth.  I dunno.  Seems a bit to visceral for a product that tastes like compressed pencil shavings.

I never want to be chased by crackers.


Conversation between SC (student) and my 19 year old summer undergrad volunteer...
SC: I want to be a priest.
Volunteer: Oh, are you religious?
SC: Yeah...
Volunteer: How so?
SC: You know...I'm jealous and stuff... of other men...
Volunteer: Oh (looks bewildered).... yeah...I can see how that's religious....



I want babies.  Now.

"Our dreams went up in dreams, you stupid pothead."

So, it's not bad enough that I'm not pregnant yet.  No.  The whole thing is made infinitely worse by the fact that since starting clomid and ovidrel and progesterone, my periods have gotten un-fucking-bearable.

Seriously.  Clots the size of Yorkshire terriers are coming out of my body.  I guess this is what I get for bragging about my super thick lining.... I get to feel every last centimeter of it cleaving off my uterus.


And here's some more good news: I may not even have any eggs.  My wife is going to slaughter me for even bothering to entertain these thoughts but, honestly, it's a possibility.  My AMH level was like .3 or something like that.  It's supposed to be over 1.  In older women, .3 equals ovarian failure (menopause).  In people my age, it equals premature ovarian failure or, a wonky test.   What's weird is that my FSH is perfect.  I think it's around 4.  Usually, in cases of premature ovarian failure the FSH is in the 20's.   Also my antral follicle count is 24, which is awesome and I'm a mega-super-duper (not a technical term) responder to electron sized doses of clomid.  The RE said that she seriously doubts that I have premature ovarian failure... but she added that, normally, an AMH of .3 means no eggs.

In summary: No one knows what the hell is going on and I may not have any eggs which at this point wouldn't even be surprising because pretty much everything else in this process has gone totally fucking wrong.


I'm not pregnant.  Time to go smoke a bowl.

"Lets get together and feel alright."

And now we're here.  

IVF.

Really?  

Yep.

Dang.

$8K?

Yep.

*facepalm* Dang.

Stay tuned for the excitement of IVF #1.  

Yep.

Dang.

Fuck.


Just, fuck.

"She's got a ticket to riiide..."

12 DPO??

What the hell?  When did we get here?


I can't even begin to comment on the ups and downs of this cycle.  Instead, I'll wave my prescription of AstraZeneca around like a cute little flag...


Ok, I lied.  No AstraZeneca....


Am I pregnant or not?  Make up your fucking mind, peestick!


Can I still wave a cute little flag?

"When I was younger, so much younger than today..."

One score and 7 years ago:

I was ripped from my 27 year old mother's womb a full month after my due date.  I was bone dry, having outlasted my amniotic fluid and the umbilical cord was wrapped snugly around my neck.  Also, I was 9lbs and jaundiced as hell.  As Vivaldi's "The Four Seasons" played in the operating room, my mother laid on the gurney smiling the sweet smile of new motherhood and epidurals while the doctor stitched her guts back in from the c-section.  A day later, she developed a staph infection.

But, we all survived and now 27 years later, I find myself going through my own struggle to reach motherhood the only difference being whereas my mother couldn't get the baby out, I can't seem to get the baby in.

Today is like, I dunno, a buncha DPO.  More than 4, less than 8.  I tested today because I knew I would get a strong positive due to the HCG trigger and I wanted to see two pink lines on my birthday... even if they are fake.

"I've got something to put in you... at the gay bar, gay bar, gay bar!"

I am a lucky woman!  No, I'm not pregnant yet.... well maybe I am but it's only 5-6 DPO, so who knows??

I'm lucky because I have a wonderful wife who took me away for an early birthday trip to Atlantic City.  We touched the fertility idols at Ripleys, she tried to teach me how to play craps (not really my thing but I  had fun watching her get into it) and we walked on the boardwalk.  Definitely a really nice little getaway and the hotel was great.  We stayed at the Taj Mahal and had a perfect view of the atlantic ocean from our huge window on the 38th floor.  Lovely!

In other news, did I mention that we had IUI #4?  Well, we did.  It was last thursday and hopefully between my super thick lining (you could mud wrestle in it...), the fertility idols (which I rubbed and then secretly licked my palms), and the doctor's reassurance that he has a psychic connection with sperm... the will finally be it for us.  If not, there's a rubber room waiting for me at bellvue.  

So, now is when I start calling my wife at hourly intervals asking if I should be feeling pregnant yet.  I really need this to work.

Also, today at work, I taught my students the art of the practical joke.  Yes, we foiled the chair of one of the other teachers, who is away on vacation. It was awesome.  

Lastly, pleasegodletitworkthistimepleasepleasepleaseplease!

"Everybody dance now!"

I love American Fertility, so far.  My Own Fertility, I despise but that's clearly another story.

Today was CD 12 monitoring.  I'm going to brutally honest.  I am so sick of having cameras and various other equipment put in my vagina by people who have never even bought me a drink at the bar.  There was once a time, back when I was young, that I would be positively titillated by the prospect of having an older woman with a russian accent order me to undress and spread 'em while she lubed up phallic shaped instruments.  Now, after 9 months of failed cycles, the sexiest thing I can think of is going two whole weeks without having some part of my reproductive system photographed and measured.  Sigh.

Speaking of being measured, my lining is freakin' huge.  13 mm!  I gave myself a great big pat on the uterus when the tech told me that.  My follicles were massive as well.  Two follicles, both measuring over 20 mm each.  Tonight, we will do the ovidrel trigger and then, the IUI #4 is on thursday morning.

The best part?  We got to speak to the actual doctor to discuss the plan of action.  No waiting around for a phone call from a nurse, plenty of opportunities to express concerns and ask questions, no rude and dismissive answers.


The even bester part?  Next weekend, the Ripley's Believe It or Not fertility statues will be in Atlantic City!  Something like 2,000 women have gotten pregnant after touching those statues; many of whom were told they couldn't conceive.  June 6th I'll be all over that... literally!

PS-I'll be 27 next tuesday. I'm asking for two things.
1. A baby (duh)
2. That no loved ones (human or animal) be diagnosed with aggressive and fatal diseases on my birthday for the third year in a row.  Maybe this is selfish but, save it for June 9th, ok?  Thanks.

"Guess you better slow that mustang down..."

I think it's time for a little motherhood fantasy:

My plan is that when our kids are in grade school, my wife and I are going to plan a surprise vacation... like to disney or something.  We will wake them up for school one monday morning and follow the usual morning routine.  The suitcases will already be packed and hidden in the back of the car and.  I'll tell the kids that their mother and I have a meeting to attend and that we will drop them off at school on the way.  I'll drive to the school but instead of pulling into the parking lot, I'll just blow past it and get on to the highway.
The kids will start yelling "Mom, you missed it!  You're going the wrong way!"  My wife will make a performance of being exasperated with me and then turn to the kids and say "Well, you'll be late to school anyway so we may as well just go to Disney World for a week..."



Oh, by the way... Clomid, round 4.  Yep, it's Clomid Sally in all her glory... hair falling out, crying jags, insecurity,  sweating,  grapefruit sized ovaries, the whole shebang.


In non-fertility related news, I met with the writing group for the first time last weekend.  Intimidated? You bet!  Impressed?  Beyond!


I need new sneakers.


On of my students (SC) informed me today that my dad was a cat.  A cat with a needle in his head.


Meow.

"Everyday is a winding road..."

Today was another trip up vagina lane with a stick.  I still have ovaries, despite evidence to the contrary.  I really like the way they do the ultrasound and blood appointments at American Fertility.  There was no real "cattle call" and I was in and out in under 20 minutes.  The ultrasound tech was totally into explaining everything on the screen and she didn't ram the dildo-cam up into me like she was trying to pack the powder into a canon.  Overall, a success.


Back at the ranch, what the hell is going on with this font size?  It's out of control! 


PS- Dear "Lost"
          I'm glad you are all dead.  What a shitty ending!  I want my friggin 6 years back!  Bastards.
  

"I'm sensitive and I'd like to stay that way."

Today I had one of those moments that really made me love my job.  I had called the mother of one of my students to see if we could take a team approach to convincing him to use Access-A-Ride instead of riding the yellow school bus to program.  This individual is extremely high functioning and has total capacity for independent travel.

The moment I said this to his mother, the woman absolutely unloaded on me.  She spilled her guts about how she's getting older and wants to retire but, she gets no support from her family when she tries to push her son to be as independent as possible.  She would love to see him holding down a part-time job and living in an assisted living apartment but, he family acts like she's abandoning he child.  

She thanked me for agreeing with her and totally she is completely on-board.  I told her that lots of parents tend to face these issues and that's why I like to make sure the parents of my students who live at home know that they are part of team whose goal is to have the student be as independent as they can be.  

It was awesome.  Very few of my students live in agency residences so, I get to know their families really well.  I love when the families get really involved and want to be a part of the team.

Anyway, that was the good part.

The bad part was we finally got a raise for the first time in 3 years.  It was a paltry $20 more per 70 hour pay period.  That's $10 per week.  Wheeeeeeee.  Honestly, its so insulting, I'd almost rather they didn't bother.

"Sittin on the dock of the bay watchin' the tides roll away..."

And so it ends.  The spotting has begun, the BFN, confirmed.  Tomorrow we begin cycle #9.  Yee-ha!

Could somebody stop the infertility?  I'd like to get off now.



The upswing is that, we will be under the care of Dr. Karpenko at American Fertility.  During my first consultation, she basically satisfied my suspicions that Dr. David B. Seifer is a complete moron and should not be trusted.  She wants to do one more Clomid IUI (this time with the proper progesterone support and estrogen if necessary) before we bring out the big guns.  I'm not sure what the big guns involve but, I believe that they involve suitcases full of money.  I think we may switch back to Monty because he had a better sperm count.

In other news, my mother called me this morning.

Mom: Hi honey, what's going on?

Me: Not much, I'm still at work finishing up some stuff for my meeting tomorrow.

Mom: Oh.  You know, I just get chills every time I think of all the good you do for those people at that job of yours.

Me: What?

Mom: You know... How much joy and happiness you bring to these "handicapped" people's lives.

Me: It's "Disabled" or "physically/intellectually challenged."  Also, I dunno how much joy I bring them.  Today, I spent the afternoon telling them I would nail their tongues to my bulletin board if they made one more sound.

Mom: But I bet they laughed, didn't they?

Me: Yeah... I suppose they did... I'm going to have to work on scarier threats.

"I have become comfortably numb"

I had to take a short fertility break for the last couple days.  It was just too much.

But anyway, I'm 9DPO today.  I have nothing to say about this cycle so far.  If it works, it works, if not... I have an appointment with American Fertility on friday at 2:30.  So long, Genesis Fertility in Brooklyn.  You suck big hairy follicles!

Also, I have not tested.  Even once.  I just can't do it.


Is it my turn yet?

"I just wanna be mad for awhile"

We had IUI #3 done last Sunday and Monday.  Not too much to report other than the fact that we used Lance instead of Monty.  Pretty standard all around.

What I would like to report on is my experience at Genesis Fertility in Brooklyn under the care of Dr. David B. Seifer.  

My experience at Genesis has been that of a cow being taken to market.  I find Genesis to be the coldest, most impersonal, most frustrating and least caring medical facility I have ever used.  Women are hustled through their appointments like parts on the assembly line.  The results of my blood tests were never shared with me unless I asked and even when I did ask, I was given the least amount of vague information possible and treated as though I shouldn't be worrying about the "technical" parts.  

I have had 3 IUI's each done over the course of two days.  That's six inseminations.  Never once did I have the same nurse performing these procedures.  While these nurses were all very pleasant (except one nurse who was extremely rude to my wife), it was disconcerting to have a different face in my nether regions each time.  

Dr. Seifer has proven to be arrogant and snotty.  Since the initial consultation, Dr. Seifer has become totally inaccessible.  He wouldn't even say hello to me when he saw me in the waiting room.  He has refused to give direct answers to my questions and to me, it feels like he has a warped sense of superiority.  It's as if Dr. Seifer is an extension of god's penis... bringing babies to the broken women of Brooklyn.  Don't question him... obey the holy penis!  

Attesting to this is the fact that I have asked him many times to test my thyroid because hypothyroidism (a leading cause of infertility) runs in my family.  To my knowledge, he has not checked my thyroid levels and if he has, he certainly hasn't shared the results with me.  Because hypothyroidism can cause implantation failure and low progesterone (an integral hormone in both conception and pregnancy development), I requested to be prescribed progesterone supplements.  Even without low progesterone, supplements have been shown to only help and not harm developing pregnancies.  

I was told that I was not a candidate by the nurse (the mean one).  Most infertility specialists prescribe them as a matter of routine.  There is no such thing as a "candidate."  So, I placed a call to Dr. Seifer hoping that he would understand why I felt that this was important.  My call was not returned until almost 10:00 PM.  When he did call, Dr. Seifer was beyond rude.  In response to my request, he asked me "Well, are you having multiple miscarriages?"  Um, hello... of course not!  I can't get pregnant at all, you dick!  

I told him about the research I had been doing on the importance of progesterone and he said to me "Fine.  Whatever.  If you want to go through the trouble... whatever.  Call my nurse in the morning."  

And then he hung up on me.

That fucking prick.

I'm not a very demanding patient.  I pretty much do what I'm told, I rarely question my doctor and I'm pretty easygoing.  I don't need this kind of shit from him.  

Goodbye and fuck off Genesis Fertility and Dr. David B. Seifer.  I wouldn't recommend you to a dog who wanted to get pregnant. 

Additionally, I did finally get the progesterone supplements.  They are absolutely disgusting to use but, at least it's something new to try.

"Numb is an old hat..."

First things first:

LSU Tigers battle the Florida Gators this saturday at 2.  If Micah Gibbs is not catching, I will cry.  Go Tigers!

On the TTC front:
Dildo-cam this morning.  The results are in.  Three follicles (15, 18 and 20) and the lining is 7A.  Not thrilled about the lining.  Definitely going to demand that 7DPO progesterone draw.  The IUI #3 will be Sunday and Monday.  Yee-ha!

I hate my fucking job.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy..."

My old boss had her baby.


Moving right along:

What is it about these NYC assholes who blow their horns while waiting for the light to change or waiting for the car in front of them to make a turn?  What the hell is that about?  People don't do that upstate.  I;m not sure if it's because "New Yorkers" are just that self important that they think they have universal right-of-way or if it's because they think that the sound waves coming from their horns help to propel traffic ahead more quickly.  It's just outrageous.  And what makes me even crazier is that um, this is NYC.  The land of the eternal traffic jam.  You can beep all you want but, I guarantee you that you will get stuck in traffic before you leave city limits.   So chill the hell out.

bye now.

"Ride that glory train!"

Yesterday, while walking back from the grocery store, my wife and I wound up discussing hell.  I have no comment about why the topic came up after being in the grocery store.  Anyway, she stated that she doesn't believe in hell.  I don't know why I never knew this about her... it seems like one of those questions that should be asked before marriage. 

 "Do you believe in eternal damnation?  You do?  Great, will you marry me?"  

Consequently, I was a bit shocked.  I asked "Well what do you think happens to all the assholes?" 

She said, "Nothing.  They just stop existing.  No spirit, no ghost... just gone."  

What the crap kind of punishment is that???  Seriously.  I do not think I could scrape myself out of bed in the morning if I didn't believe in a gruesome afterlife for the people who suck.  Because, it's not hard to be a good person.  Really, it's not.  In fact there are really only a few rules.  

-Don't hurt people/animals 

-Don't destroy stuff that's not your

-Don't take stuff that's not yours

-Don't be an asshole (this covers stuff like cutting in line, tailgating, honking the horn at red lights [?] stomping on hardwood floors while wearing high heels at midnight... you know... the stuff that makes you want to kill people...)

Basically, that's it.  So, if you can't even be bothered to follow those simple guidelines, there had better be a severe price to pay.  The assholes that I deal with on a day-to-day basis better have it coming.  I won't lie.  I love to fantasize about what's going to happen to these people after they die.  It really makes me smile.

When I said this to my wife, she ventured that maybe it's not healthy to expend so much emotional energy on the afterlives of people I hate.  

Is she fracking kidding??  I can think of no better way to make myself feel all warm and fuzzy.  In fact, I think I should be in charge of hell.  I could think of so many psyche-splintering punishments that would just glitter with razor sharp poetic justice.  And I've never even spit gum on the sidewalk.  Ever.  No hypocrisy at all.  That's what hell really needs at the helm.  A really honest, kind and good person with a dreadfully twisted mind.  Plus, who better to be in charge of hell then a lesbian?  

Is this why I can't get pregnant?

"That's the truth about men. That's the truth about us."

Today is CD 4.  Tomorrow is my last clomid tablet and then on friday, it's back to the stirrups for the dildo-cam.

I am dreading this cycle.  I am filled with loathing for every last step of it.  Contrary to my previously posted, brazen declarations of apathy, last cycle hit below the belt (heh... get it?  God, I'm funny!).  I remember that before we started trying, I was jokingly said to my wife "Can you imagine if I was infertile? You would have to commit me!"

My wife refuses to humor my magical thinking but, damn do these things come back to bit you in the ass.

Other things that bite you in the ass are rogue monkeys.  Seriously.  Watch the discovery channel.  Absolutely horrifying.

How's about a little motherhood fantasy?  Ok!

When my kid is old enough to understand an Xbox controller, the two of us are going to go to ikea and buy two really comfy gaming chairs.  We will build them together and then, I'll spend all afternoon teaching him (or her but, this is my fantasy and I want a boy!) how to play Mass Effect and Dragon Age and Oblivion.  I'll let him design our characters and make the decisions and I'll beat the parts that are too hard for him.  I'll teach him how to master the leveling systems and how to appreciate alternate playthroughs.  My wife will pop in and make us popcorn and be generally happy that she can have some free-time for crafting or whatever it is that she does in that other room.

Actually, this may be a fatherhood fantasy.

Lastly, I was told today by an Access-A-Ride driver that I remind her of Shane from the L-Word.  50XP for me.

"Take me for a trip upon your magic swirling ship.."

Well it's that time again.... Clomid time!  Wheeeee!

Because my pillow needs another layer of my hair.

This cycle, I'm going to demand that they do a 7DPO progesterone test.  It's such an easy fix, if that's the problem.

My wife is in Arizona until sunday night.

Um, so yeah about Tim Tebow... first round pick?  Very interesting.

But the real question is what's going on with Colt McCoy??  If he doesn't go in the 3rd round, I will be shocked as hell.

Question answered.  McCoy goes to the Browns in round 3 pick 85.

Also, I want a baby.

"I'll miss you till I meet you."

And it's CD1.

Oh rapture.

"Don't wake me, I plan on sleeping in..."

Spotting today.  I just want to get this bloodbath started so that we can move on.  I can't believe we're still not pregnant.

Cycle #8 and we're still not pregnant.

"So I was not lost or found."

It's 14 DPO and BFN.  It's also 14 DPO and no period.  At all. Whatsoever.

Fabulous.

Dear Monty,
You have been a huge part of our reproductive lives.  We have enjoyed looking at your picture and dreaming that someday, we have a child that looks like you.  We loved your curly blond hair and squinty little eyes.  But, we've tried you 5 times now, Monty.  5 tries with nothing to show for it.  So, we're cutting our losses and breaking up with you.  Sorry Monty.  We would have loved to have you as a part of our family (sort of).
Love, the B-C's


Dear Lance,
Welcome to our lives.  We will be using you to try and achieve our dream of having a child.  Please do a better job than Monty.  He was a bit of a disappointment.
Love, the B-C's


Dear Kirk,
If Lance doesn't work out, you are next in line.  I know you only have 21 straws left in the cryobank so, please donate more soon.  I think you are absolutely gorgeous and I wish my Wife had ordered you instead of Lance because I want you to be my baby daddy.
Love, Courtney


Dear Infertility,
Bite my balls. And die. Painfully.
Yours truly, Courtney


Dear Platypus,
You are truly a noble and fine creature.  I find the venomous spur on your back leg to be exquisite.  A rare marriage of form and function.  Never change.
Always, Courtney

"Broadway is dark tonight, a little bit weaker than it used to be."

Things are not going well.  I'm fairly certain it didn't work this time.... what a shocker.

I don't even know what to say anymore.  There's no way to describe the bottomless feeling that comes with infertility.  Bottomless because you can't hit rock bottom.  It just keeps getting worse.  Every failed cycle, every month that passes by, every negative test.... you just keep sinking.

Three women at my job have had babies since I started trying.

Another motherhood fantasy:
My parents have some time shares in Aruba at this amazing 5 star resort with a lazy river swimming pool.  Aruba is my favorite place on earth.  It is the only place I have ever been where I felt completely carefree.  I can picture my Wife and I going to Aruba with our toddler and my parents and brother and his fiance.  We would all float around in the lazy river taking turns playing with the baby in the water.  My parents would teach their grandchild how to build amazing sandcastles like they did with my brother and me when we were kids.  My brother would catch lizards and teach our kid all about the different species.  At night, we would all barbeque outside under the palm trees and maybe play dominos after the baby, wrapped up in big fluffy towel, fell asleep in the hammock by the picnic tables.

I can picture going there when our kid is older, like maybe 7 or 8.  We would take him on the jeep safari and watch him scream and laugh and the jeep climbs up a steep rocky cliff.  We would take him snorkeling so he could see the enormous parrot fish with it ridiculous looking underbite.  In the afternoon, we could cool off under the palapa and my wife could teach him how to play Rummy while I did my crossword puzzles.  We would take a picture of our tanned feet in the sand... his small feel between mine and my wife's.  And we'd play ping pong at night under the pavilion.

It's never going to happen, is it?

11 DPO

"It don't come easy, it's a game of give and take."

Today, I googled implantation bleeding and cramping to see if you can be pregnant without having either of them.  As it turns out, you can.  You can also be pregnant even if you don't have sore boobs, metal mouth, blue veins or any other symptoms.  

In fact, some women don't even believe that they are pregnant until the third month.  Stealth pregnancy.

I have not felt a single pregnancy symptom.  At 9 DPO, I would consider this month to be on the brink of failure.  However, we tested the trigger out yesterday.  It was pretty much gone last night and basically invisible this morning.  This afternoon, I decided to torture myself and test after work.  The test strip showed a pretty substantial pink line.  Stealth pregnancy?

No.  We went down this road last month when we were pregnant for all of three days.  

Crap.

My Brother is going to Alabama to look into buying a reptile business from the wife of it's deceased owner.

My Mother told me that she and my Dad have more money than they know what to do with.  

My youngest Aunt is turning 60 in June.

These are some other things I can think about.

"Don't mind me, I'm just a bit maniacal about you and derailed when I'm without you, don't mind me.

Can intense, gripping stomach pain that occurs every afternoon and is followed by a period of narcoleptic episodes be attributed to a possible pregnancy?

No, I didn't think so either.


Nonetheless, that's what I have.  Everyday.  Between the hours of 2-4.  Wheeeee!

Back on earth, our hero was having another motherhood fantasy:

For the last two years, I have given my father a very "special" gift for christmas.  You see, two years ago, when I asked what he wanted, he said "a big hug."  How could I refuse?  So, I bought 3 huge rolls of menorah wrapping paper (my dad is Jewish).  That christmas, as we sat around the tree opening gifts, I told my dad that I had left his in the car.  My Wife (girlfriend at that point) knew that was the cue for us to go out to the porch where I had stashed the wrapping paper, some tape and a gift tag.  Outside, My Wife went to work, wrapping me from head to toe in the menorah paper leaving only enough room for me to totter back into the house.  She steered me back into the living room where my parents, brother, and 3 aunts erupted with laughter at the giant waddling gift.  My dad came over and as soon as he tore through the paper around my head, I burst out of the wrapping and shouted "Hava Nagila" or whatever that Jewish song is, and gave him a big hug.  In between gasps for air and with tears in his eyes, he proclaimed the jewish christmas hug to be the best gift ever.

Needless to say, last year when I asked him what he wanted for Christmas, he replied "I would like another hug please."  Never one to refuse, I decided that, being newly married, my Wife and I should probably give a joint gift.  So I bought 4 rolls of Jewish wrapping paper.  On christmas morning, I told my dad that I had left his present in the car again.  Silly me.  This time, it took me, my wife and my brother to "retrieve" it.  On the porch, my brother struggled to wrap up me and my wife (squished together with our arms around each others waists).   Walking back inside required much more coordination but, under my brothers guidance, we made our grand entrance and again, we were greeted by the hysterical laughter of my parents and 3 aunts.  This time, as my dad unwrapped us, we burst through the paper and shouted "geffiltefish!" or whatever that revolting Jewish food is and swooped him up in a huge two-woman hug.

The plan for this Christmas was that we would already have a baby and there would be three people to wrap up.  Clearly, not going to happen.  I cry a little when I think about that.

8 DPO.

"I know I should be mature, keep my feet on the floor but for some reason, I just don't want to anymore."

I am halfway through the tww today.  Yes, 7 DPO is a fun and exciting time in the B-C household.  7 DPO means that my wife gets a phone call from me every 53 seconds either weeping because I feel like it didn't work or demanding reassurances that she can't truthfully give and then weeping because I feel like it didn't work.  7 DPO also means that it's time for the groping to begin.  I'm sure the security guard is excited that his monthly peep show is about to commence on the elevator cameras.  Why did they have to install those damn cameras anyway?  

7 DPO is a time of emotional valleys.  Every hour during 7 DPO feels critical.  Implantation commonly occurs around 7 DPO and each second that you don't feel pinchy implantation-ish cramps, and each time you pee and find no pink implantation spotting, you are plunged into a hormonal abyss of misery and hate.  You counter this by reasoning with yourself.  "It's still so early!  Implantation could happen anywhere from 6-13 DPO!  Technically, the second day of the IUI was tuesday so, I might only be 6 DPO..." You repeat these things to yourself until you can begin to see a glimmer of hope.  Then you go to the bathroom and there's still no spotting so, lather, rinse, repeat.

It's 7 DPO and I don't think it worked at all.

"And it was perfect until the telephone started ringing, ringing, ringing..."

One of my fantasies:

Finding out that I'm pregnant and telling my class right away.  I know it's like bad luck of something to tell people right away but, in a way, my students are my kids too and I feel like they would be so excited to all be Aunts and Uncles.  I would do a huge 9 month unit on human growth and development and we could have weekly, "what's our baby up to now?" sessions.  That's why I would want to tell them right away...I wouldn't want to have to catch them up on three months of growth. Marie said I could buy a home doppler and I would totally let my students listen to the heartbeat.  Most of them have never heard a fetal heartbeat. It would be so cool.

Sigh.  4 DPO

"Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days..."

Yesterday, I said I did not care if we get pregnant this cycle.  I still don't.

But in 10 days, when I only have one line on my pregnancy test, you will find me lying across the FDR during rush hour.

However, if we ever do have a kid, this blog will be much more entertaining.  I mean really, how many different ways can you write about failed cycles.

I want to start living someday soon please.

"Dance with me darling, we haven't danced since I don't know when..."

I was excited about this cycle for all of two minutes.  Now, I'm just feeling kind of wooden.  I completely stopped temping and stopped updating my chart.  I just don't care to do it anymore.   I don't even really care whether it works or not.  I suppose that's a pretty normal coping mechanism, considering that this is our 7th try.

I'm tired.  So fucking tired.

"Waiting in a room all dressed up and bound and gagged, tied to a chair"

Had the second shot of sperm this morning.  Unfortunately, we did not get the nice nurse.  We got the russian nurse.  I call her Nurse Ratched and I think she must have been a dominatrix before becoming an RN.

The other nurses are all very gentle and cautious while sticking various equipment into my vagina.  Nurse Ratched wields the speculum as if it were the jaws of life and my pussy was a burning car with an old lady trapped inside.  I swear to god she opens me up so wide, you could drive a semi up there. And yes, generally, the feeling of a catheter being threaded into your uterus is not exactly pleasant... but when Ratched does it, I literally have to grab the sides of the exam table so that I don't leap off and go running out the door in my adorable little paper dress.  It feels like she's trying to pick a lock in there or something.

Honestly, She should just wear a leather catsuit under her lab coat and charge extra for an IUI with sadism.

So, now I'm home and I've got horrible cramps.  Also, I'm incredibly pissed off.  Why?  Because, I've been  doing another playthrough of Dragon Age: Origins and somehow, I've fucked up the romance quests for every single member of my squad.  I think it's irreparable.  This means that my awesome mage can't go back to camp and get some girl-on-girl action after killing a legion of darkspawn.  Damn you, Bioware, for your complicated-as-hell dialogue trees.

Ok, Bioware, I apologize.  You're still my favorite... even if your trees are convoluted.  Someday, I might even forgive you for letting EA buy you out.  But don't expect that anytime soon.

So, it's back to work tomorrow (cries) and we are officially in the TWW.  Let the madness begin!

"It takes a lot of settin', gettin' chicks to hatch!"

Had the IUI #2 part 1 today.  Pretty uneventful, allthough, the nurse doing the insemination was one we had never met and she was super nice!  She informed me that my eggs were quite large and that my lining had grown to 11mm!  Yeah baby!  Actually, she told me it was 11A... not sure what the A means...I think it means "Awesome."

The insemination itself was pretty painless.  The speculum sucked, of course but, no insane cramping and only a tiny bit of bleeding.  

Altogether an unremarkable experience... except the part where my wife stole two sterile urine sample cups... They had green tops!!!

Now, I'm home, and it's time to turn on the Xbox360 and keep my eggs warm.

"While you're wondering, 'how's this gonna end?', I only want it to begin..."

The clinic called and it's a go for IUI #2 tomorrow and Tuesday.  We will do the HCG trigger tonight at 9:00 and then have the inseminations at 8:30 on Mon. and Tues.   

I am having visions of building huge lego creations with my future son (or daughter)!

Please, please, please, please, let this one work!

"Big as grapefruits, big as pumpkins, yessir, yessir!"

I know it's Easter because the bunny left me two huge eggs... on my ovaries.

The sonogram tech estimated that one was 20-21mm and the other was 22-23mm.  Them's some big eggs (follicles-technically).

So now we are just waiting for them to call me and let me know when to trigger.  I'm hoping that they will want me to do it tonight so that I can take Monday and Tuesday off from work. 

I forgot to ask how the lining was.  Last Thursday it was 6mm and I'm hoping it grew to 8mm.  

Each of my sentences is so important that it deserves to be it's own paragraph.

My wife is going on a bike ride.  She looks cute in her little helmet.  I'm not going.  I'm not moving until this phone rings.  

Something is wrong with my keyboard...

"I'm just along for the ride."

Yesterday was my cd8 blood test and ultrasound.  I have two maturing/dominant follicles, one on each ovary.  They measured 14-15mm and 13-14mm.  My lining was at 6mm.  Apparently, this is a good response to the pathetic dose of clomid I took.

My thoughts: I couldn't get pregnant with 6 eggs, now I only have two.

Reality: Most doctors would have cancelled my last cycle due to my huge clutch of eggs.

Emotionally: I feel like a hen.

Today I arrived at work and caught the elevator just before it closed.  As I stepped in, I realized that the other four women inside were all pregnant.  Hugely pregnant.  So pregnant that, if my life were a movie, the elevator would get stuck between floors, all the women would go into labor at once and I would have to deliver all the babies while rescue teams attempted to free us.

The world is out to get me.  The evidence is mounting.

Stay tuned for the results of Sunday's bloodwork and dildo-caming.  IUI #2 might be Monday.

"Turn the lights back on, that trusting girl you knew is dead and gone."

One of the hardest parts of not being able to get pregnant has been the complete hatred I have felt for my body.  It has completely let me down and I am so disappointed in it.  Granted, I have never had an incredibly healthy relationship with my body but, this is different.  Before all this, I was disappointed with relatively superficial things... run of the mill things.  Weight, of course, topped the list but, I never liked my nose or skin and if I ever win the lottery, the first thing I'm doing is getting a breast reduction.  These babies, have got to go.  But all these things were easily fixed.... losing weight, surgery, medicine...

But not being able to conceive if a very humiliating feeling.  Like I'm fundamentally defective.  And, even though I know it's so common and that millions of women have the same problems, I admit that I never ever thought that I would be one of them.  I was so sure that I would be some sort of baby-machine.  My cycles are like clockwork, I ovulate every month naturally, it just felt so right.  Discovering that I have been broken this whole time has taken a harsh toll on my already tenuous relationship with my body.

It doesn't help that the clomid makes my hair fall out (alopecia runs in my family so, I'm already lacking in that area- both of my parents and my 24 year old brother are practically bald).  My doc further restricted exercise while on clomid due to the huge amount of follicles I had last time... ovarian torsion is a distinct possibility. Plus, the stress makes my skin break out and makes it hard to sleep at night.

Altogether, I feel like a flabby, bald, greasy, pimply, sunken-eyed hag with broken insides.


Hormonal, much?

Tomorrow, it's back to the stirrups for a meeting the with dildo--cam.  Yay.

"We got another dead cow, an apocalypse draws nigh..."

Another day, another pillowful of my hair in the morning.  Seriously, it looks like Chewbacca slept on it.

I still hate the MTA and I think Bloomberg is a huge asshole, complete with fissures.

My Wife continues to reassure me that we will definitely have enough money for me to stop working if we ever have a baby.  Provided, of course, that we find a cheaper apartment.... not in Jersey City.

I feel like I have turned a corner in terms of my growth as a supervisor.  I no longer feel like I have to cater to my staff and keep them happy.  That was a problem for me during my first year at the agency.  I have reached the point where, now, instead of needing to defend my management style (and this happens pretty rarely, to be honest...) I have no problem with telling people that they are free to find a new job if they don't want to do what needs to be done.  Just as a note, I generally am very happy and pleased with my staff.  But there's one in every group....

Clearly, an interesting day at work.

This has nothing to do with fertility or the upcoming cycle.  Good.

"You'll think I'm dead but I'll sail away on a wave of mutilation..."

Ok.  Jersey City?  No, I think I'll take the refrigerator box on the sidewalk, thanks.


Yeah.  It was that good.  Never mind the fact that the porches of all the houses were completely caged off, never mind the fact that there were transient, shifty looking folks roaming the streets, never mind that there was nary a tree in sight... Jersey City is fracking ugly.  And I live in NYC.  Also let me note that the broker we met was a die hard republican just out of college.  No Joke!

Next up to look at is Montclair, Princeton and Outer Mongolia.


In other news:  Today is day three of my new and pathetically low dose, clomid week.  Some more hair fell out last night (yippee) and I'm a bit cranky.

If/when we move, I'm going to miss the sound of the barges on the river.  On foggy days like today, they sound like big mechanical whales singing to each other.  It's so weirdly comforting.

My cat is walking around with the tip of his tongue hanging out.  Why does he do that?  Does he forget to put it away?  Is he trying to dry it off?


Maybe one day I'll be rich and famous.

"I believe in yesterday and what it means to bleed... and know that you're ok"

Had an appt. with the dildo-cam early this morning.  Very messy business on cd2.  Got the blood work done too.

The verdict?  I start the clomid again tomorrow, this time on cd3-cd7 and I'm only taking a half dose.  Apparently, they don't want me to have as many mature follicles as I did last time.  This is frustrating.  Why?  Because even with 6 huge ass follicles, I was not able to have a viable pregnancy.  Seems to me that high order multiples should not be a concern and the more eggs, the better.

Sigh.

My wife says I should follow the rules.  I'm not happy about it.

I'm also very upset about the MTA, their unmitigated greediness and utter stupidity.

So, this weekend, my wife and I are off to look at some apartments in Jersey.  Fuck off NYC.  I never liked you anyway.

I'm so done with this place.

I'm also done with cd2 and infertility and mostly the MTA.

Pray for me.

"Tell your story... don't stop talking... just tell your story walking"

CD1.  Yes it's that time again.  My FF chart looks so bleak on cd1.  Very disheartening.

Tomorrow morning I go for base level blood work and sonogram (really, I'm not sure how the sonogram works when I'm bleeding like a butchered animal.)

I thought I had a lot to say but, I'm just not feeling into it right now.

To sum things up:
We had several bits of very bad news today.  That sucked.  But then a friend came by to lead a little writing workshop type-thing at my job.  My students raved about it and I had a lot of fun.

The end.

"Multiply life by the power of two..."

This post is dedicated to my wife.

I have the best wife in the world.  No, seriously.  I don't care who anyone else is married to.... my wife is better.

Dear Wife,

Thank you for everything.  Thank you for letting me call you 97667 times a day while you are at work.  I know I call you so much... every time I see a pregnant person or a baby, or a cool stroller... I call you and you remind me that someday that will be us... pregnant and then having a baby in a cool stroller.  You reassure me that it will be our turn one day, even when the pregnant posse at work is swarming or  the admins throw a massive baby shower for the woman with triplets.

Thank you for letting me spend millions of dollars on HPT's even when we both know that they are going to be negative.  Thank you for telling me it's ok to test.

Thank you for letting me curl up in bed with you for a few extra minutes when I'm supposed to be showering and you are still trying to sleep.  Thank you for reminding me that it will happen for us soon, even if I wake you at 6:30 in the morning with a BFN.  Also, thank you for consoling me late at night when I'm hysterical because the clomid made my hair fall out and didn't even give us a baby.  Thank you for giving me extra kisses even after you have shut my face off for the night.

Thank you for repeating yourself billions of times.  You have no idea how much it helps to hear you say that we can keep trying until it works... you are the best cheerleader ever and I couldn't handle this if I didn't have you behind me, promising that it will work this time... this will be our cycle... I know you can't really promise those things.  But when you say them, what I hear I'm here for you babe...


Thank you for being the sperm coordinator.  You have taken a massive weight off my shoulders and especially after last cycle, I know I don't have to micromanage everything.

Thank you for giving me "the juice" on a very special individual... It makes each cycle a bit more bearable knowing that we will do a way better job of parenting than that person.

And finally, thank you for those times when I worry that it won't ever happen and you tell me that we won't stop trying until we have a baby.  I fall more in love with you every time you say that.

Love,
Other Wife

PS thank you for the cycle day 1 kitten... what???

"And the world spins madly on..."

Realistically, I know it's over this month.  By now, there should have been something real on those tests.  Of course, everyone says it's not over until AF but, I can't keep going there in my mind.  I just want to accept the failure and move on.

I also want a new kitten on cd1, whenever that happens.  (However, with 4 cats already, there is a greater chance of conceiving immaculately.)

We are also considering changing sperm donors.  A big decision, seeing as we have already invested so much in "Monty."  But, he's a blond and I think darker haired men might have stronger sperm... I totally pulled that out of my butt...

As, I've already stated, I am a high-strung individual.  I do not cope with uncertainty very well at all.  In betwixt the "why me, why me.." I am forced to really contemplate "why me?"  Perhaps it's because I don't cope with uncertainty very well.  I told my wife last month that this whole journey has felt like that Indiana Jones movie... the one with Sean Connery.  I think it was The Last Crusade.  At the climax of that movie, Indy is in the temple and has to get past a number of booby traps so that he can reach the holy grail.

I think I know how Indy felt.  It has been established that I will not get pregnant without a fight.  And for the last 6 months, I have battled past countless pitfalls and booby traps... I dealt with a lost sperm shipment on ovulation day, sperm banks with no rental tanks, terrible schedules, stupid doctors, ladybugs (don't ask!) and now, my first failed IUI.  I'm feeling like Indy, kneeling on the floor whispering "only the penitent man shall pass."  I'm wondering if maybe, my final test, my leap of faith so to speak, is to let go... let go of my irrational fear of uncertainty, stop testing my pee every 5 minutes, stop taking my damn temperature... just let go, and let the sperm meet the egg... with the help of clomid and ovidrel (this is $200 sperm, you know).  Maybe that's why I have to go through this hell... to make me a calmer and more prepared for the eternal uncertainty that is being a parent.

Or maybe the world is out to get me.


"Only the penitent man shall pass..."

"There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams. There'll be plenty of new dreams..."

I'm done.  Have had enough.

After two promising lines yesterday, today has proven to be a lot of nothing.  Well, except for the faint (but very real) line this afternoon... but really, who can trust blue dye?


I just can't even imagine doing this again.  I know that by comparison, we haven't been trying that long... but I'm high strung and my brain is very small and makes rattling noises.  I can't handle this shit.


Of course, I keep telling myself that it's not over till it's over.


My boobs are so sore and swollen... like two little hot air balloons.


Fuck this noise.

"Another day older and deeper in debt..."

Trigger, evap or baby?


Only time will tell.

"Is you is or is you ain't my baby..."

The plot thickens....

Today, the secretary at work told me she had a dream that I was pregnant.  I'm not in the business of telling the folks at work about the whole TTC thing and I'm not particularly close with the secretary.  In fact, she and I have a distinctly antagonistic relationship.  This woman once told me that the blue ink in my pen was too black.  Needless to say, I was shocked by her revelation.  This has been a very mystical TWW.

In other news, my nipples are on fire.  Yes.

Also, my boobs are sore... kinda... not sore like how they used to get during PMS back when I was a teenager... more like they feel bruised.  I imagine it's how they would feel if a professional boxing cat used my boobs as one of those little practice boxing balloons that hang down... you know those things...


A small side note... How is it the the assistant teachers we hire seem to need more care and coddling than the disabled population we serve?  Seriously...

Too tired for a list.  It's Friday.

"I'm waiting for my real life to begin."

Today was a much better day.  I mean, yeah, I had only one assistant and a puking student but, overall, it was ok.  At least I wasn't crying and fighting with my wife.

Anyway, here we are at 8 DPIUI.  I feel nothing.   Nothing at all.  How awesome is that?  I started testing out my trigger this week.  It's almost gone.

Jesus.  These are the most entertaining status reports on earth.


I'm tired of this.  I'm tired of fighting with my body.  I'm tired of not trusting it.  I'm tired of seeing my life fly by in two-week chunks.  I'm tired of putting life on pause to accommodate my ovulation schedule.  I'm tired of this holding pattern.


Please, please...... deities, powers that be, gods, spirits, beings, ghosties ..... please let this be it.


Things SC Said To Me:
-"I hate smoking crack."
-"I am your godfather."
-"You should have a baby" (from the mouths of babes wheelchair bound adults with cerebral palsy and moderate mental retardation)


Technique Developed:
The diagonal, shoulder-scratch, discreet, boob-squeeze: Just one arm and reach over to the opposite shoulder to scratch a fake itch.  You can use the crook of your elbow to perform a discreet boob grope to check for soreness in elevators with cameras. The security guard probably thinks I should see a dermatologist... or that I have scabies.


Response from the 8-Ball:
"Signs point to yes."

"Be careful, I may bite your head off,"

Does being totally pissed off about everything count as a symptom?  Or am I just a harpy?

Welcome to 7 DPIUI at the Brooks-Carney House!

"The butter melts out of habit. You know the toast isn't even warm."

Today was long.  No cramping twingy things.  And it's totally stupid because normally, I call my wife in tears when I do have cramps.  Lately, I have been calling her in tears when I have them AND when I don't.  My poor wife sure puts up with a lot.


I really haven't wanted to eat anything but tostitos and salsa for the last 2 days.

And I'm really tired of people at work waving their big pregnant bellies in my face.  Whatever, people.


Weird Things My Student (SC) Said To Me:
"I'm jesus' father."
"You look like my dog, Courtney."(SC has no dog.  I was not insulted.)
"I been married to "Staff Person" for 50 years. (SC is 34 years old.)
"I think your cat is Jewish." (My cat's not Jewish.  He's a methodist.)


Disappointments:
-Didn't like my soup today.
-No pregnancy symptoms.
-No cookies to be found on 23rd st.
-Meeting cancelled so I wore my best business-y clothes for nothing.

Is The Universe Trying To Tell Me Something?
-Two yolks
-Mom and wife dreaming of twins
-My magical baby dream
-SC exclaiming that I was gonna have a baby (This was totally unprompted.  I never speak to my students about the fertility stuff.  It should also be noted that, SC thinks he will be the father of my baby.  Ermmm....yeah.)

"Billy's got his beer goggles on."

It was back to work today.  Blah.  It was also 5 DPIUI.  Woot.


Some things:
1. My wife and my mom both had dreams that I was having twins.
2. The morning after her dream, my wife cracked an egg open and there were two yolks in it.
3. The events listed above are very weird.
4. I am not liking this tww because I can't test.  The HCG trigger will give me a false positive for at least 8 days.
5. I miss peeing on sticks.
6. Today I had odd pinching-pulling kind of buzzing twinges in the uterus area.  Never had those before.
7. I never wanted twins.  They kind of freak me out.
8. Since the egg yolk thing, I want nothing more in the world then a set of boy-girl twins.  Go figure.

C'mon damn it!  I had six eggs.... at least one of them HAS to implant.

"All the people on the street, I hate you all."

Today was IUI part 2.  We got there at 8:30 AM, signed for our sperm and then went home for an hour while the sperm had a spa treatment.  We returned at 9:30 and then had to wait until 10:30 because, apparently, all the IUI rooms were filled.  Huh?  Whatever.

The Doc who performed the IUI was not nearly as gentle as the one we had yesterday.  As a result, I'm still cramping.... ugh.

I made an appointment to see a doctor about this cold.  It's not getting better and now I'm starting to cough up something that looks suspiciously like Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

But, never mind all that.  Let me recount my dream from last night.

In my dream, I woke up and it was this morning.  I felt a stirring beside me and when I looked down, I found a newborn baby girl gazing up at me.  Instinctively, I knew she was mine.  However, I didn't remember giving birth or being pregnant.  I called to dream wife, who was in the bathroom, and said "honey, when did we have a baby?"

She answered, "Last night."

I was so confused but, really I didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth...this baby was freakin adorable.    I inspected her tiny fingers and toes... she had my wife's fingernails and my thumbs.  That's when I realized that we still had an IUI scheduled.  I yelled to my wife, "Baby... what are we gonna do about the IUI?? We already have a baby! They're gonna think we're nuts!"

Her answer was "I dunno... just cancel it I guess..."

I was so freaked out that I called my mom (why did I think that was a good idea?).  She picked up the phone and I said "Hey mom it's me.  So, here's the thing.  We had a baby last night."

My mom started laughing.  "I knew you were lying to me about the infertility... I knew the whole time you were just trying to surprise me!"

"Mom," I said... "We weren't trying to surprise you... we had an IUI scheduled for this morning but somehow, I had a baby last night.  I don't even remember being pregnant!"

I guess she finally understood what I was saying because my mom started panicking and said "Oh god, this is terrible... great but terrible! Courtney, is the baby really soft and mushy?"

I poked at my infant daughter..."No mom.  She seems pretty firm."

This seemed to relieve my mom's anxiety.  "Oh, well, then things are fine.  I'm coming right over."

When my mom arrived, I let her in and she ran right over to the baby.  She and my wife were fussing away when, the doorbell rang.  I answered the door and it was a delivery guy holding a huge stack of gifts wrapped up in baby themed paper.  I asked who the gifts were from.  The delivery guy said nonchalantly, "Oh you know...a bunch of legal and political bigwigs... you know..."

I let him leave the packages in the hall.  Taking the smallest one, I walked into the kitchen where my wife and mother were attempting to give the baby a bath.  "Look, we got a bunch of presents."

I opened the little package.  Inside were a bunch of tiny socks and a card.  I opened the card and two bills fell out.  At first I thought they were 100 dollar bills but, I looked closer and realized that they were 55,000,000 dollar bills.  I gasped and said, "mom, are these real?"  She said "yeah... haven't you ever seen a fifty-five million dollar bill before?"

The message in the card said "Dear Family, congratulations.  Live well.  Love, your favorite supreme court judge, Steve Charles.

That's when I woke up.

Time to get out the old dream dictionary...


Update: I just got back from the Doc's.... and the verdict is.... upper respiratory infection.  Oh rapture.

"Tequila makes her clothes fall off..."

First, a trophy for my wife.  Despite my nervous ramblings, she was completely cool and calm when it came time to inject me last night.  It was like getting a shot from Shaft.  Plus she gave me an Elmo band-aid.

My cold continues to rage on.  My upper lip is visibly chapped now and has that leathery feel of tissue burn.  No Nyquil or Dayquil because it could harm our chances of conception but, we got the go ahead for some tylenol cold.  Not as good, but better then needing to install bilge pumps in my lungs.

Just for the record, Scientology is a complete crock and I dare anyone to say otherwise.

Back to the scheduled program.

Today was IUI part one.  Not much to report.  Stirrups, no pants, one woman between my legs and one caressing my hand, a good time was had by all.  My only complaint was that we had to go all the way up there, sign a piece of paper that said it was ok to thaw the sperm and then we had to wait for an hour while they took the sperm to the sauna at Bally's Total Fitness Center.

And we get to do it all again tomorrow!


No lists.

"Tomorrow is a busy day. We've got things to do; we've got eggs to lay."

I never ever thought that the above lyric would be applicable to my life... TTC is awesome!

It just figures that I'd be sick as a dog today.  Not that dogs are sick... unless, like, they are... where the hell did that one even come from?  Whatever.  I'm sick as a sick dog.  I've got the whole works: the sneezing, coughing, frog voice, aches, hot and cold flashes, raw nose and upper lip from the constant trickle of snot and a wad of paper towel plugging up each nostril.

God, I'm so gorgeous!

Of course, on the upside, I'm too busy trying not to drown in my own post-nasal drip to be all that worried about my wife sticking a needle in my thigh... which incidentally happens at precisely 8:30 PM tonight.

Ok... I lied.  Please god don't let her hit a bone or something!!!

Anyway, I am so glad to not be going to work for the next two days.  I'll miss my students but, I kind of want to set the rest of the staff on fire.

Please please please let this be it...


Handkerchiefs I Soaked:
4

How My Student Embarrassed Me:
By yelling "Feel better, sweetheart!" at me in a crowded elevator.

TTC Worries:
-That I will sneeze and expel the sperm from my uterus
-That I will spike a fever and cook the sperm once it's in me
-That my wife will make tentative jabs at me with the needle

Conclusion Of The Day:
The world is out to get me.

"And the seasons they go 'round and 'round and the painted ponies go up and down. We're captive on the carousel of time..."

Well, after an appointment with the dildo-cam, the numbers are in.  5 days of clomid resulted in 6 follicles. Yep, 6 big ass, juicy, lovely follicles.  This is good news.  Of course, this also means that there is the potential for 6 big ass, juicy, lovely fetuses.  That would be catastrophic.

After making us swear that we would be amenable to selective reduction if we somehow fertilize more than 2 eggs (trust me... we have no desire to be the next TLC debacle..."two lesbians plus 6!"), the doc set our IUI for this wednesday and thursday at 8:30 AM.

This means that at 8:30 tomorrow, my wife will have to shoot me in the leg.  With Ovidrel... not a .45...
My wife prepared for this challenge by watching some videos on YouTube.  How reassuring.

Holy Shit.  Holy holy holy shit.  And other stuff.  Yeah.  We're ready.... right?


Follicle Count:
2 that are 16mm-17mm
2 that are 15mm-16mm
at least 2 that are 12mm-15mm

Things My Wife Said:
"Don't worry...I watched some videos...I'm ready."
"All our future children in one shot... very efficient."

Secret Reasons For Wanting Kids:
My mom has all our old legos waiting for the first grandkid... literally hundreds of lego sets...  Mine!!
First dibs on airplane overhead storage...

"He wants a fight, well now he's got one. He ain't seen me crazy yet!"

So, today was much better.  No huge jangling ovary feelings.  I hate it when my ovaries feel jangled.

This morning, I asked my wife what would happen if, once we have a baby, we hate it... I felt relieved when she promptly answered, "give it away."  I love how we ride the same wavelength.

But, seriously, what if we are going through all this shit and we end up hating having a baby?  What if we regret the whole damn thing?  What if I go to prison for killing my upstairs neighbors?

What if I just get a grip?

In other news, I hate my job.  Really.  It's a deep, seething angry hatred with a vicious temper and red, rolling, savage eyes.  That being said, I love my students (with a few exceptions) beyond my wildest imaginations.  They are so incredibly funny and wicked and snarky.
They keep me on my toes (literally... those wheelchairs can be deadly!).  They don't accept any mediocrity on my part.  Truly, I have come to work and been yelled at by one of my students in a wheelchair because my desk was cluttered and he believed that a person who can use their arms and legs should keep their desk clean.

Bah.  It was a really interesting day at work and I am kind of obsessing about what it means to work at an agency that serves the disabled.  Perhaps I will delve into this at another time.


Things I Said To My Students:
"If you even think about sneaking out early, I'm going to put and electric fence in front of the door.
"We're taking a field trip to the rubber rooms at bellvue on monday."
"Next person who whines at me gets a free wheelchair ride down the stairs."
"Don't worry...I'm totally qualified to perform surgery on you."

Things My Students Said To Me:
"You're a funny fish-head!"
"Stop clicking your pen, it's really annoying!"
"I'm gonna beat you down in the parking lot at 3:00!" *The woman who said this is 4 feet tall, in a wheelchair and is on a pureed diet.  That's what I call, self-confidence!*

Ways I Would Like To Deal With Current Annoyances:
To the asshowler who has been honking his horn continuously for the last 10 minutes- I would love to strap you naked to the hood of your car, cut off your eyelids  and drive down the highway at 100 MPH, letting your skin melt off as the engine gets hotter and hotter.

To the shitheads upstairs who stomp around on the wood floors with heeled shoes literally at all hours of the day and night- I would like to tie you to chairs and strike your heads with a wooden bat at random intervals.  Then, I would like to set you on fire.

Current Emotional State:
Calm.  Very Calm.  Serene, even.

"Flowers of thy heart, oh god are they, let them not pass like weeds away..."

Clomid, day 2.

I'll admit that I tend to sway ever so slightly towards the overdramatic but, I'm being absolutely honest when I say that my ovaries feel like they must be the size of grapefruits.  Naturally, I'm freaking out.

I don't like this.  Nope nope nope.


I think maybe I'll call my mom.