"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.