"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.

I was stimming when I wrote this, forgive me if it goes astray...

Hi.  My name is Courtney. My DW and I have been TTC for 6 cycles.  So far we have had nothing but BFN's with all of our ICI's.  I have been using CBE OPK's and taking my BBT and I seem to O pretty regularly around CD 12-13.  I have regular cycles and and 14 day LP followed by AF.  Recently, I saw an RE to begin the IUI process.  He ordered an HSG which was clear and a whole blood work-up.  All my levels were normal except for my AMH which was in the toilet at .4 or something.  We are praying it's not POF or DOR.  On the bright side, my FSH was 4 and the U/S revealed at least 12 follies.  We are doing frozen DI's so we have no need for a SA.  This cycle will be our first IUI and we are using clomid and an HCG Trigger.  Hopefully, there will be no OHSS.  If my estimates are correct I will be 14DPO on march 25th and then I will test with a FRER.  Until then, I probably won't be able to resist using some IC's...


Hmm... Should I blame the clomid?

Worst News Ever:
The possibility of the MTA cutting my x37 bus

Honest Truth:
I am really in no mood for these quaint little lists today.

"I'm goin home, gonna load my shotgun, wait by the door and light a cigarette..."

Conversation with my Mother:

Me: Hey Mom.

Mom: Hi Honey.  How's it going?

Me: Pretty good.  I just got off the phone with the fertility clinic.  We are all set for the IUI next week.  I start the clomid tomorrow.

Mom: Good for you.  Now, don't forget, while you're inseminating, you need to really visualize the baby forming.  I mean, you really have to see it.  Cell by cell, implanting,  growing, developing.... I really think that it's your mind that's holding you back.

Me: Hmm... I dunno Mom.  I think it's the fact that my ovaries might not be producing good eggs that's holding me back.  Or the fact that our sperm is frozen.

Mom:  No.  Fertility is a state of mind.  It's in the bible.

Me: The bible says fertility is in my mind?

Mom: Yes, of course!  Why do you think that spot on your head is called your "temple?" Because that's where god is!  He's inside of you, not in some silly church!  He's in you... healing you...!  You probably wouldn't need clomid if you could just visualize god helping you conceive.

Me: Mom, I don't think my Dr. will appreciate it if I show up for my IUI and tell him that I skipped the clomid and licked some pages in my bible as an alternative.

Mom: Well, honey... it's up to you.

Me: Why don't you ask your toothpaste what it thinks?



Illnesses I May Have Contracted At Work Today:
Pink Eye
Hepatitis B
Tuberculosis
H1N1
Pneumonia

Names My Students Called Me:
The Mean Ms. Courtney
Magic Lady

Things I Should Try To Do This Cycle:
Less caffeine
More iron
Take vitamins every day
Go to bed before 11 PM

TTC When The World Is Out To Get Me Moments:
Pics of co-worker's brand new baby hanging in the hall outside my classroom
Working on the same floor as 3 pregnant women
Realizing that if it had worked the first time, I would be 5 months pregnant now

Reasons Why I Like My New Boss Way More Than The Last 3 Bosses That Have Worked Here:
She asked me "Will the clomid make you more wicked than usual?"
She told me I was likely to give birth to a mutant---awesome!

"People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one..."

Cycle 5 is officially over.  My period even came early... eager little bitch.  This one was especially tough though, I'm not sure why.  It could be because, I was hoping so much the my recent HSG was going to somehow clear a path for sperm to meet egg.  It could be because, my boobs were really sore this time. Hell, it could be because somewhere deep down, I really wanted to believe in my Mother's toothpaste-come-to-jesus confession.  Whatever it was, the BFN hit pretty hard this time.  It didn't help when my mother airily suggested that we just adopt... with the glibness of someone suggesting we just order chinese food instead of cooking dinner.

At my RE's office, they give the patients a little chart to take into the exam room for the nurse.  It's basically a little summary of your treatment history, diagnosis and plan.  At the bottom is a bunch of boxes with labeled with things like "tubal ligation reversal," "Male Factor Infertility," "Recurrent Miscarriage," "Luteal Phase Defect" and so on.  Until recently, my chart never had a check mark next to any of those boxes.  On my last visit, I discovered that I was finally given a check mark.  It was there, next to the box labeled "Unspecified Infertility."  Yep. I am an infertile of the "whothefuckevenknowswhy" variety.

So on deck we have our first Clomid cycle with HCG injection.  The syringe is chilling in the fridge amongst the dairy spreads... every time I look in there, I ask myself what I want on my bagel... butter, cream cheese or 50 cc's of ovidrel.

Major Questions:
Should New York State be divided into two separate states at to be known as NY and Adirondack?
Why is my cat so dusty?
Why won't they just let Olivia Benson be a lesbian for god's sake?

Weird Product Names:
Volcanic Milk: Explodes with Flavor! (right because when dairy is nothing without lava and ash)
Mustard Seed: Grow your own mustard plant-Yeah, that mustard! (thanks for clearing that up...i thought you meant the other mustard..?)


New Job Dept.:
My wife is now the official "sperm coordinator"

Names My Students have Given Me:
Roach
Auntie C
Cheetah Woman
Hater
Courtney the Unfun and Uncool