"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.)