Puppies: we live in Toys R Us

In the Twirl household, we go through lots of toys. Puppies are little destructo-units. They will chew and chew and chew until there's nothing left and then they will chew each other. I decided from the start to make sure there were always plenty of different acceptable chewing options available. They have soft toys, hard toys, rope toys, chew toys, and they love them all. They say you ought to rotate, but I don't really need to since they destroy things so often that there's always a new toy coming in to replace something.

Seven weeks: rope



Eight weeks: Girl with rope and fish, Boy with monkey and carrot. Carrot was the first toy that Boy selected himself by taking it off a low shelving unit at the "toy store."

Nine weeks: Girl with jack, Boy with unfortunately-placed carrot. Girl is not usually possessive over toys. She shares easily and is not territorial. This does not apply to the big jack. Boy may chew in tandem, but he may not take this toy away!



Ten weeks: Twirl messes with Boy and many toys, Boy and mini tennis ball. I do have to mess with them when they're sleeping. It's payback for them messing with me when they're awake.



Eleven weeks: Boy and rope, Girl and Boy and HIS giraffe. Boy does not share toys he's deemed "his." The giraffe is not for sharing. He gathers up toys to sleep with or hoard.



Twelve weeks: Girl with jack, Girl and Boy chewing a hard ball with three ropes that go through and have knots in the ends. The ropes have since been shredded, partially consumed, and thrown away.

I would sooo have that McBaby

Patrick Dempsey and his wife are having a second child.

If it's you, speak up!

P loaned out Lost (season one) to someone at some time. He does not recall who or when and therefore can't ask for the discs back. His wife was not at all pleased about this and is holding a (silent) grudge.

when all the stars were falling,

i reached up like you said.
all the stars were falling, one hit me in the head,
and i fell down, down, down.
i fell down, down.

***

I'm keeping my record intact. Another medicated cycle, another follow-up cycle on the bench because of cysts. More cysts than mature follicles. Larger too. The printouts of the cysts made a nice long chain. She said, "well, it does look like your body responds well to gonal-f." I said that it didn't feel "well." She was really nice to me though. She did made me cry when she was poking around in there, but that's to be expected. Fucking cysts.

The nurse thought it was kinda sad that I was expecting cysts. She said I sounded resigned, which I'm sure I did. With how bloated I was and how much discomfort I've had, I'm not surprised that I still had shit growing in there. I do wish they wouldn't tell me that as a part of my bloodwork they're going to do a beta. I know what they're doing, I know why, but it's still depressing.

Goodbye perfect lining, hello cysts?

I've recovered from my little emotional outburst yesterday and fortunately I no longer feel like crying. In addition to the pain of failure, I blame the hormone shift.

Now I'm ready to enter the three-day-wait. I'm up for the title of most medicated cycles followed by a rest cycle due to cysts. Do you think the Academy will pick me? I've never not been benched following a med cycle, so I expect that will be the case this time too. Especially given how "well" I respond to the drugs.

***

here's a bonus tidbit:

I just got a call from the pharmacy.

"You have a prescription waiting for you."

"I shouldn't have any."

"Your... gawn-al.... F"

"No, I already picked that up."


How the fuck did the pharmacy already know this was a failure?!"

Perfect failure

Sometimes life just sucks. And it's not life exactly, it's just my life. Or my non-life. I'm sitting here, in pain, waiting for the backaches and cramping to give birth to the bloody end of this failed cycle. This, my 48th cycle, was another perfect failure.

I know iuis aren't fabulous as far as success rates go, but I don't really have a choice right now. We made the best decision we could and it's in the hands of a doctor who wants us to fail on his protocol a few times before we can move on. I wanted a lap. Don't tell me to be the boss because it does not always work. Sometimes you just get labeled a problem patient and you end up in limbo for over a year. Sometimes you have to suck it up and work it from within the system. I'm trying anyway. I don't really want advice. I don't need help. Not with this anyway. As much as I'm not liking the way things are going, it was still the right decision.

What I need is to succeed at something. I'm tired of feeling like a failure. I'm tired of shooting up, bloating up, and the second I can wear my non-stretch jeans again, the backaches start and we can relive the process all over again. This afternoon I did a shot of vodka because I could feel the ache coming on. P looked at me like I was nuts. I was crazy; it should have been tequila. Better than tylenol. Waiting sucks. The inevitable sucks too, but the waiting for it, especially when there's pain, is just emotional misery.

We went to B&N and walked around. I felt like a zombie. I love books, but the store was driving me mad. I saw strollers and I heard children laughing and talking and crying and I felt like there was a whole other world there that I'm just allowed to look at but not be a part of. I walked past the pregnancy section without slowing, but I knew it was there. I know there are books about fertility and endometriosis and pcos in the health section, but I didn't want to look. What can a book tell me? Nothing. A book doesn't know why this is so hard. Every section I walked by made my heart hurt a little. My glazed-over eyes welled up with tears, but my zombie-self didn't let them out. I wandered around though the history and biography sections where I can usually get lost, but I didn't really stop. When I realized that I'd been staring at a table of boxed calendars, I found P and told him that I wanted ice cream. "Now?" "Yes, NOW." "Are you sure you don't want a chocolate cupcake?" "No, ice cream." "Ok," he said, seeing I can only imagine what on my face, "let's go." And we did.

Did it help? I don't know. I'm sitting here writing this wondering how I got here. How did things turn out this way for me, for us? How did I become this person? I don't believe in fate, karma, or divine intervention for things like this. It's just happening and there is no reason. But it's still happening and not being able to explain it in a five paragraph essay is very frustrating. I didn't want puppies. I wanted babies. I never wanted to be a doctor, lawyer or indian chief. I didn't want to be a butcher, baker, or candlestick maker either (and I'm not drunk, by the way.) All I ever really wanted was to be a wife and mother. I feel like I'm failing at the one and the other is so unimaginable by now I can't even get there in my mind anymore.

How cool is this chick?

Her fiance cheated on her so she broke up with him, called off the wedding, and used the reception site to have a charity event instead!

makin' the watch list

P: Have a good day with the little terrors.

Twirl: the first time I read that sentence I saw "terrorists"

P: No, not terrorists. They're combination wrecking balls, lawnmowers,
weed-wackers and other things though.

she meant well, of course, but...

We try to take the puppies out often so they can meet as many different people as possible while they're still young. Aside from the pet store (or toy store, as we call it) we like to go eat lunch out where we can sit at an outside table. People pass by and they get petted and fawned over. They love it.

A woman approached me saying that she was in town on business and she missed her dog and could she pet mine. I always say yes, and so we chatted as she got her puppy fix. She seemed like a nice lady and she gushed over my puppies and kept them entertained, so I liked her just fine. Then she had to kill it.

Her: These guys are just like little babies.

Me: Yeah, they do require quite a bit of attention and work.

Her: It's good you have them. I think everyone should have to take care of a puppy before they have babies. They're such good preparation for the real thing.

Me: (Take a big bite of sandwich to muffle any possible words.)

(cycle #48) and also, I don't speak the name of The Scottish Play

This cycle my husband said something that bugged me. He said he didn't have a lot of confidence that it would work. I mulled this over a bit and came to the following conclusions:

1. Only I am allowed to be pessimistic. I never think it's going to work. He's always been the optimist and I dislike being forced into that role.

2. After asking him why he said that, he said, "maybe I'd feel differently if we were doing ivf." I think the failures are finally getting to him. We've been back and forth about ever doing ivf so many times. Has he changed his mind again? Have I?

***

I have had, again, a fairly perfect cycle. Good response to meds, appropriate number of mature follicles, good lining. Once again, I saw myself ovulating on the screen just prior to the iui. P had a good report, and when the nurse gave him the post wash numbers and a positive "grade" he responded, "of course." Once again, no good reason except chance and statistics for us to be unsuccessful. Of course, if there was nothing at all wrong with us, we would not be on cycle #48 with no pregnancies (let alone babies! babies? ha!)

This iui sucked a little. It hurt. It doesn't usually hurt. The nurse said my ovaries were much larger and that they were making my cervix difficult to reach. Then, later, the cramping set in. My goodness, the cramping. I felt sick, had no appetite (and eating was required so that I could take my antibiotics) and had pain/discomfort/bloating all day long. I turned over on my side once and it was torture. As was the moment where my cat jumped up on my belly for a cuddle (we did compromise, and he had a nice nap on my legs.) So far, I feel much better today.

***

I began this post a couple days ago. I didn't want to jinx myself by putting it up because the iui hadn't actually happened yet. We all have our little superstitions, don't we? Once, I began a cycle with unpolished toes and refused to re-do them until I knew it was a failure. Because you know, nail polish consistency can really make or break a cycle.

Puppies: Prison Break, part 2

Part of socialization for puppies includes exposure to the world (not just people or dogs.) They have to hear things like loud trucks, sirens and the dishwasher so they learn that the world is not a scary place. Having the crate in the kitchen has been good because they can run to it when they're afraid of something. Within a week it had become a safe place (in this case, safe from the vacuum cleaner.)



It's also a place for treats. Getting puppies used to the idea of a crate being a good thing can be done through their tummies. They get a treat and are told they're good puppies each time they go in so they learn that it's not a punishment. Boy will do anything for a treat. He will take a treat out of Girl's mouth if he can. At nine weeks, Boy began to run into the crate just to see if we'd give him something.



They were visibly bigger inside the crate, and I had to remove the pad in the bottom because they chewed one corner and the stuffing is coming out.



Now, at ten weeks, they are doing a lot of mirror sleeping and it's really cute. The crate has worked out pretty well.



Until today. See, there's a weak spot on the front zipper where someone chewed last week and it doesn't close properly. So we just plop them in through the top hole and keep the front zipped (this is becoming a problem because Boy is so damn heavy.) That's worked for about a week now. Based on the title, you can see where this is headed, right?



I came home from my bloodletting and probing to find pee all over the floor and two puppies happily sleeping on the tile. They broke through the weak spot on the zipper. I don't know if it's fixable yet. I've been busy cleaning up urine and walking two puppies in the rain. I forgot a bag and had to dig through a neighbor's recycling bin to get a newspaper to pick up some poop and walk with it until I found a trashcan. Good thing it's trash day.

Puppies: Prison Break, part 1

I have a couple puppy-picture-theme posts in mind. I was thinking about a series showing that we do, in fact, live at Toys R Us for dogs. I also have tons of cute "I love my brother/sister" shots.

However.

I think we need to discuss the crate. Some people think crate training is cruel, but we do not. It is good for them to have a safe place where they can't hurt themselves or get into trouble. Dogs like to have a "den" and a crate satisfies this need. It also helps in housebreaking, as dogs will not soil their crate if at all possible because it's where they sleep. They spend plenty of time both in and out of the crate.



When we leave the house, the pups are always in their crate. If we aren't watching them, they're in the crate. When we go to bed at night, they're in the in the crate. This might sound like a lot of time, but really they spend more time sleeping passed out on the tile floor than anywhere else. And we're suckers and allow it.

At first, they weren't happy about the crate. I can understand this, especially considering where they came from. They lived in an outside pen with several other siblings. They were away from their parents, away from the breeders (don't even get me started on what I think of these people) and that's where they stayed. Imagine being only almost seven weeks old and being taken away from your siblings, on a long car ride where you threw up, with strange people, to a strange place, and put in a small (comparatively) pen. It was obvious they were scared.



So we comforted them, reassured them, took them out to go potty regularly, and put them back in the crate. The crate was in our bedroom at night so we'd hear them whine, and in the kitchen during the day. They huddled together and got used to this, but it seemed like they had a hard time falling asleep/staying asleep while we were in the room. I guess humans are just too much fun. So we tried moving the crate downstairs and they sleep much, much better.



If a crate is too big, a dog can use one side of it for sleeping and the other side for a bathroom. We needed to figure out a way to make the crate temporarily smaller. We put a large pillow and a large stuffed dog on one side to block it off. Usually they would pull the puppy down and sleep on it or next to it. This will be good for size comparison later!



(all pictures are at 7 weeks old)

***

to be continued...

In case you're here to read about the IF stuff

Status update:

Day: 9
Days on gonal-f: 6
Possible follicles: 4-5

Today I'm starting to feel more activity over on the left. This is not surprising because the 3-4 largest follicles are all growing over there. I've got a medium sized one growing on the right all alone. It's not the most comfortable feeling (I'm in my stretchy jeans-- and I'm not even doing IVF!) but I'm actually glad that I can feel it working. Seeing things growing on the ultrasound is one thing, but feeling them grow is reassuring. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.

What else do you want to know?

I'll leave out the pictures

around 10pm... Twirl comfortable on the couch, P up for a snack...


P: Girl is puking on the floor. And it's green.

Twirl: Well, she eats leaves and grass.

P: Now she's eating it.

Twirl: I told you I didn't want dogs. (thinking: you saw it, you clean it)

P: It's ok. Floor's clean now.

Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping...

Day 1:

1. Call in refills for gonal-f, ovidrel, and antibiotics
2. Go to pharmacy to pick up prescriptions
3. See pharmacy tech retrieve a suspiciously small bag
4. Wonder where the hell the boxes of gonal-f are
5. Tech tells you they're out of gonal-f (even though no one called to tell you this)
6. Tech tells you that you are only getting about half the pens that you got on your initial prescription
7. Attempt to remain calm and reasonable
8. Ask why the fuck you don't get the full amount
9. Be treated to a math equation completely irrelevant to the problem at hand
10. Hear tech blame insurance company and tell you that you must take it up with them
11. Oh, and come back tomorrow

Day 2

1. Get headache at the thought of discussing the problem with insurance company
2. Try to figure out the problem yourself so that you can argue effectively
3. Try to explain the problem to husband
4. Have husband reassure you that you are not crazy and they are wrong
   
5. Realize that pharmacy has now closed

Day 3

1. Call insurance company
2. Wait on hold
3. Verify every possible bit of personal information
4. They can't help you, but they can give you another number to call
5. Call new number
6. Verify every possible bit of personal information
7. Relate problem
8. Wait on hold so the person on the other line can "try to understand" the rules regarding this particular drug
9. Watch an episode of The Cosby Show while on hold
10. Be told that the pharmacist must have entered the quantity incorrectly so it's not an insurance issue
11. Be told that by the way, we have the wrong birthday for you, you need to fix that
12. Call birthday fixing number
13. Verify every possible bit of personal information
14. Person on the phone says that your birthday isn't wrong
15. Spin in a circle and scream
16. Call pharmacy back to tell them about the quantity thing
17. Tech tells you that the quantity isn't wrong, it's a new prescription (not a refill) that was mailed to the pharmacy (even though you have no idea why that would be)
18. Tech suggests calling the doctor's office if you have questions about the prescription
19. Call the doctor's office and leave a message for someone to call you back
20. Realize that you haven't eaten lunch and are very hungry
21. Wait
22. Wonder if you'll get your call before the pharmacy closes
23. Type this list
24. Debate posting now or saving as draft to find out what happens
25. Smell something foul
26. Wonder if someone woke up from a nap and crapped on the floor
27. Check, find nothing, guess that one of the puppies has gas
28. Realize that you're writing about puppy gas and decide to end the list...

*****UPDATE*****

29. Talk to nurse who has no idea what I'm talking about - they never sent any prescription
30. Wait for nurse to check my records
31. Nurse will call pharmacy with the correct quantity, wait for return call
32. Nurse calls back promptly! Problem solved, but mystery still intact. My order has been changed to ten pens (though the pharmacist refused to put it through to insurance while the nice nurse was on the phone to confirm it wasn't an insurance issue)
33. Nurse checks my chart one more time and says, once again, that no prescription has been written for me, but that I can go pick up my pens after I verify that the order went through. Oh, and there are still only six physically in the store
34. Call pharmacist to verify order, he says yes, but could I wait to get my six? he'd rather not do a partial order
35. Refrain from telling him what I'd rather not do
36. Tell him I'm coming to get my six this evening
37. Go to pharmacy to see evil pharmacist
38. Pharmacist surprises me with ten boxes (wow, he really doesn't want to deal with me anymore!)
39. Swipe credit card - declined
40. Swipe credit card again - declined. Say, "This is really not my day!" and confused look from pharmacist
41. Use alternate card, but do not shove first card into any inappropriate orifices
42. Ask to see "handwritten prescription that was mailed over"
43. Pharmacist holds it up to my face, but will not allow me to hold it in my hand. Freakshow. Like I'm going to make off with it to get it filled elsewhere on account of my gonal-f addiction. Asswipe won't let me see the date, but it's my info true enough.
44. Come home, sort pens by expiration date and refrigerate. Think about how nice that nurse was, feed all animals, and realize that I've missed lunch and it's really really dinner time.
45. I'm glad I have even the limited, temporary drug coverage that I have. It won't always be there, so I know how lucky I am to have it at all.

Tomorrow: Find out why my credit card was declined. bah.

Hugeness

We went to the vet today. The little monsters doubled in size in the last month and they now officially outweigh the cats.

Puppies: Our First Bath

I used the "mist" setting on the hose to get them used to being sprayed.

Boy:



They're inseperable. Bath time would not be the same if they couldn't do it together.



Girl giving Boy a reassuring kiss.



They follow me when I walk around the deck. Sad little wet puppies.



Our first bath was very tiring, so we must sleep here on the wet towel.



I will never again give both puppies a bath alone. Ever.

I'd nap there, but they won't let me

There's a minute between the time where the nurse removes the dildocam and washes her hands and leaves the room that is slightly awkward to me. It only takes a second for me to get up (though sometimes I find the dark room peaceful in spite of the position. Today I was told, "No sleeping.") What do you do in that minute? There's not much to chat about, really, she's just told me everything I need to hear. You could just get off the table and get dressed. What hasn't she seen already? But I don't like to clean up and get dressed with an audience (not that she'd be watching with a tub of popcorn or anything.) So I sit there on the table with my paper blanket and count the seconds until I can put my pants back on. Alone.

I am so tired.

Not looking forward to the part of stimming where you feel tired even when you're actually at rest.

In which I do not pray to pass out

As much as I loathe bcps, having a period on them is a dream. No shooting pains down my legs, no enormous clots, no searing misery in my ute or back. Not even a tylenol required. Ah, the good ole days.

only crazy people post here

While I wait patiently with clean white panties for day 1, I've been reading various message boards to get me back in a treatment frame of mind. When I'm not cycling, I try to stay away from these places because they usually depress me. I end up feeling like a failure because not only can I not "just" have sex and "just" get pregnant, I can't even "just" try.

While I try to comment on people's blogs, I haven't been a participant on any message board for a couple years now. (years? that's depressing.) (Seeing all my new friends "graduate" (UGH) was demoralizing and it seemed to make everyone uncomfortable. You've been there.) I do still lurk in a few places. Sometimes it's for actual info, sometimes for the feeling that there's someone else out there (even if they don't know that I'm reading their words) and sometimes it's just to laugh a little at the insane questions that other people ask (I probably wouldn't laugh at them in person. I think.)

For me, reading around puts me in a treatment frame of mind. I see questions about *gasp* giving yourself shots! in the stomach! It's good for me because I remember that I can do it. And not freak out. I see questions about clomid and I give thanks that I know for sure that I will never take that drug again. Ever.

Of course, reading message boards is also an excellent way to get irritated. If you've been there, done that for at least, say, a half hour, you know that 5dpo! is too early to test. Even if your boobs are sore! Even if your mouth tastes like a penny! Even if you feel that suspicious tugging below your bellybutton! You know that spotting on 8dpo does not mean Implantation! It could be! My temp dipped! Do I still have a chance? What if I fly to Hawaii and eat a bunch of fresh pineapples?

One word that I'm starting to get annoyed with is "swimmers." As in, "There's no problem with me at all, but I'm taking such and such to make more targets for DH's swimmers." Gag. Never used to bother me, but now it just sounds teenage girlish and lame. (sorry) SPERM SPERM SPERM. Your "DH" has SPERM. Not "spermies." Do you all "do it" with his "thing" too?

I get it that people all have different levels of comfort about these things, so I understand that some people need to communicate using euphemisms and cutesy glitter babydust words in order to feel okay with the subject matter. I know I'm poking at it, but I really do understand this.

But you see, I'm waiting for my visit, you know, from my aunt, the red witch, and pills make me cranky, and so, it seems, does stopping them, and I have these hooligan puppies to take care of, and I just wanted to write a paragraph about SPERMIES and well, this post happened. Scary.

Puppies: Up is much easier

Attempt...



Ok, maybe not this way.



We'll go together.



She wins!

Puppies: Going down the deck stairs is a bitch

The puppies really don't like being left behind. No one better dare take a single puppy down to the grass to go potty. The other pitches a fit at being separated.

However.

They cannot navigate down the deck stairs yet. It's a big struggle. Boy will try, but he gets about half way down and then gravity pulls his chubby self to the grass below. Girl just sits at the top and whines until someone helps her down.

did that really just happen?

did she actually tell me that the cysts were gone? that my chatty ovaries had gone quiet? that I could quit taking devilpills?

yes, I believe she did.

Injectables for the insane

I went to sleep last night feeling awful (actually, I went to sleep facedown on the carpet in the living room and woke up with stray grass on my shirt-- damn puppies!) I made my way to bed and had a crap night's sleep. Right before I woke up (the last time) I had a dream that I was at the RE's and I was getting injected with my Chinese baby named Charlotte. I wonder what gauge needle you'd use for something like that? I may have a fever. Thermometer? Bah.

Cyst check tomorrow. Please, please, let them be small enough to quit the pill.

Introducing...

"Girl" (red collar)



"Boy" (blue collar)



"Them"





My Very Favorite Time of Day:

P hears from an Old Friend, and I get kicked in the ute

Here's the gist of why yesterday kinda sucked for me:


Dear Old Friend,

Just wanted to say hey. I'm here in NewCity now. Twirl and I were able to get a nice house and a couple of golden retriever puppies. What have you been up to? Still hear from any of our other friends?

P

***

P,

Hey! That's a great state to live in because I'm from there. My wife and I had a baby girl this spring (pics attatched) and named her one of the most popular names in the last five years. Our Other Friend also had a kid last winter. Those are cool dogs to have; I had one when I was a kid.

Old Friend

***

Usually I'm not terribly bothered by other people having babies. Especially when, from my high horse, I have deemed the couple worthy of procreation. All of these people have good jobs and have been married long enough and floss every day and use their turn signals. Nothing at all against them, happy for them, blah, blah, blah.

I think what made me cry was the idea that this guy was telling P about his child, and P was saying, "Well, we just got two puppies." Like there is any comparison other than no one has gotten any sleep at all lately.

P tries to console me by reminding me that we're trying and we're doing everything we can. Swallowing bcps each day does not feel like trying to me, but he'll come back with something stupid and logical like reminding me that I need to take them to shrink my ovaries back to human size so I say nothing.

Some days doing "everything you can" is just not good enough. But hey, it's ok- we have puppies.

(Oh, and this is also my way of telling you all that we have two new puppies.)

In my backyard

The city girl in me is still in awe of such things.





I don't live in a rural area, but none of my neighbors have fences and there are tons of trees backing our property.

notes from last cycle

When a toddler witnesses an injection

Niece #2: Aunt Twirl, did you hurt your belly button?

(age 2.5)

weathering the storm

Well, at least it wasn't my house that got hit by lightening!

thank you,

but I grew some big fucking cysts.

I won't be passing go this cycle, but I will be shrinking the bastards with bcps.

On the upside, I get to wait to take them because they want to do a beta anyway. As I bleed out on the effing dildocam like I'm Carrie or something and ponder which drugs would best ease the massive backache. Yeah, I might be pregnant. I'll wait on the edge of my bloody seat for that phone call.

timing isn't everything

So much for the perfect cycle.

If you feel like it, how about hoping for me that I have no cysts left over? (hope, but don't bet on it.)

Probably not interesting, but I have to get it out!

I watch Big Brother every summer.

There, now you know. I'm glad to have TiVo so that we never miss a show since the damn thing airs three times each week.

With P being gone, I haven't had anyone to watch with and no one I know watches so I have no one to bitch to about what's happening.

Last summer, like most people who watched, I rooted for the Sov6 (or sov4) alliance to beat the Friendship. Not because I'm in love with any of them (as some rabid fans apparently are) but because they were getting trounced by the more unlikeable opposing alliance.

I think too many season 6 people came back for allstars. It's not fun watching the same people win over and over again (no matter who it is) because it doesn't feel like a game anymore. I find myself hoping each week that someone else will win and even out the numbers a little. I'd like to see a little more competition.

So there. There's my confession and my rant. Back to real life.

Infecting the masses with order, one man at a time

After spending July in a hotel room (alone, and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty when I visited!) P is getting ready to come home. When I visited, my glasses vanished. (I pretty much only wear them for night driving, but absolutely dread the idea of selecting a new pair.)


P: I found your glasses.

Twirl: You did! Where?

P: Next to the bed.

Twirl: They must have fallen out of my suitcase.

P: I was straightening up the room and gathering my things together for when I come home.

Twirl: In advance? I'm so proud of you!

One more (serious) thing

I think everyone who possibly can ought to see the Holocaust Memorial Museum at least once. It's not a "fun" tour, but I think it's an important one. How anyone can deny the reality or the extent of the holocaust is truly outside the realm of my understanding.

Observations from our nation's capital

It's freakin HOT here.

***

When you take antibiotics that recommend you stay out of the sun, do it. As a person who already burns through sunscreen, I must have been suffering from heat brain to listen to my husband when he said we wouldn't be in the sun for very long.

Nothing is "just a little farther. Maybe a half a mile."

***

The fact that they have "taxation without representation" on their license plates makes me giggle. History geek.

***

I had never been to DC before this weekend adventure. A west coast girl, I had only been as far as an airport transfer. There's SO much to see! I was exhausted after the first day, but there was always another monument beckoning. I knew that I was tired to begin with so I tried to tell myself that it was fine if we didn't get to see everything we wanted this trip and that the museums and such aren't going anywhere.

The second day we visited the National Archives (a welcome rest from miles of walking in the sun!) Seeing the actual Declaration of Independence and Constitution was amazing. Plus they have a Magna Carta (there are something like 12 of these, only one of which is in the US) and do you realize how OLD that thing is?

If you think looking at old paper (and sometimes not-paper) you can barely read is dull, there are many other displays that you might find more interesting. There was everything from the land deed for the Louisiana purchase to the camera that the Zapruder film was shot with, (and it has the FBI tag still on it!) the investigation into the sinking of the Titanic, photos of young presidents, and the Zimmerman telegram. Original artwork, photographs, and film footage are everywhere. There are all sorts of visual/audio/interactive displays that would appeal to different types of learners. One of the best things I heard was a teenager say to her friend, "I have to make my parents come here. This is so awesome!" If you're interested in anything at all related to American history, there's something there for you. I had a great time and I know I didn't see everything!

***

I told P that the Washington Monument looked like a penis. Apparently he had never considered that, and so every time we saw it (and when do you NOT see it in this city?) he'd say something as innocent as "there IT is" and we'd laugh like we were the first people ever to say that. Who doesn't like a good running penis joke? Fun. Plus, you can then inflate your husband's ego by referring to his penis as a monument. You know, if such a thing occurred to you.

***

Cabbies here are just as crazy here as anywhere else. I think one of my favorite lines was, "Here's another one. She too is suffering from claustrophobia. She will not stay to the side and MOVE OUT OF THE WAY with the large car she cannot control." That was on the heels of him rolling down the window to make a rude gesture to a limo driver who made a lovely one in return. He then chatted with us about Shakespeare (we were headed to see Love's Labor's Lost) and he said that he did not like Shakespeare's philosophies.

P: Like what?
Cabbie: For example, "To live or not to live." That is just stupid. If things are not going your way you give up your life and drop everything and commit suicide? Idiot philosophy.

He also had some "interesting" political views. I will not go into them because I dislike political debates. I was, however, very grateful for my sunglasses, as I could then avoid eye contact and keep out of the discussion.

***

LOVE this:

Overheard at the Lincoln memorial:

"Dad, was Lincoln really that big?"

I was ovulating at my IUI appointment (and other fancy stuff)

The nurse that did my u/s showed me the follicles that were still on my right ovary. Actually, I think she used the dildocam to push my ovary back next to my right kidney, but the masochist in me liked the pain a little. It was like confirmation that I really did get swollen, multiple-follicle-producing ovaries and that there wasn't some mix-up after all. So anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, so then we had a look at the left ovary and I was ovulating (or had just very recently ovulated) right there. Pretty good, timing-wise.

I haven't had a completed treatment cycle in months. It amazes me that we did it this time. Other than P being out of town and having to use frozen sperm, there was not a single thing that went wrong. I only had to adjust my meds once. I did not get lost going to the office. Good response, good lining, good sperm sample. No one made me cry. I did not over/under-produce and get canceled. P's sample did not get lost/destroyed/given to another woman in a creepy tv plot. I'm not used to not being a problem case.

I'm trying to tell myself that I'm just happy to have gotten through this so we can keep moving forward. I'm trying to tell myself that the outcome isn't important for this particular cycle. Of course that's a lie. The truth is that it's really difficult not to get my hopes up. Why do this at all if you're not hoping for a child at the end? So there, I'm feeling hopeful today and if there has to be a letdown, it'll have to be later.

wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles

I made it to trigger. I did not make too many follicles. I did not make too few. My body actually did what the doctor "likes to see." Simply amazing!

I have some very unattractive belly bruising and I'm exhausted, but I'll take it.

The gonal-f pen is my new hooker not cheap, but sooo easy to use.

Thanks for all the well-wishes!

I increased today, with another check this weekend. I'm not asking for my numbers yet so that I can't obsess over them. Minor bruising, mild headaches, and I'm kinda tired already, (seriously?!) but nothing bad so far.

I have some guests coming this weekend and I'm looking forward to it (even though my house isn't "done" yet and I'm a little type-a about that kind of thing. horrified that there are temp shades up in the guest room and all...) It'll be nice to have some company while P is away, but I'm sure after a few days I'll be done with having all those people around. I'm used to being alone, and I'm having two adults and three children stay with me. I love them, but you can all add this to the list of things that prove I'm insane!

it's on

I hardly know what to say. I have no cysts. Just a quiet lefty and some appropriately-sized potentials spawning on righty. I get to cycle again. Finally.

I wish my husband was home because it was a day with NO TEARS after the doctor's office! It probably seems silly, but stabbing myself in the belly tonight really gave me a feeling of triumph.

I'm sure the mood will be short-lived, so I guess that's all the more reason to document it!

The Game

Object: Get as many food bits as possible into the water bowl before you're discovered and scolded (and photographed and laughed at.)

Means: You may use only one paw at a time, but you may switch if a better angle presents itself.

Obstacles: If mom moves the bowls apart, even if by many feet paws, do what you must to push them across the floor so that they're touching.

Prize: Once he discovers the soggy bits, your big brother will "ask" for a fresh bowl of water and you will get to partake even though you've been caught. Not to mention the thrill of being naughty and the benefits of honing your fine-paw skills.

Today is better

The doctor I'm seeing now hasn't exactly ignored my pain, just postponed treating it (note that I didn't say that he isn't a jerk.) He didn't want to do a lap until I try a couple inj/iui cycles with him. He said that he "likes cutting people open, of course, but..." Basically it's not his routine. I felt a little brushed off, but I know that some of my objectivity is gone because of all the baggage I'm carrying from the old clinic. Those doctors routinely told me that the pain was not their problem and refused to do a lap. Not so with this guy, he just wants to do this first. It wasn't my first choice given the tylenol-only proclamation, but we felt okay enough giving him a shot. For now.

In any case, the backaches and cramps have subsided for the moment and hopefully I can actually do something with my day!

Day 1

I hope today is not foreshadowing for the rest of this cycle because I AM IN PAIN! Motherfuckingbastardassnutsucking doctors who ignore this shit and glorify tylenol (tylenol only? you're out of your fucking mind!) all oughta be filled with defective uteri and made to listen to a looped tape of someone telling them so suck it up, the pain is normal.

It hasn't felt like this in months and I'm feeling quite miserable. My back hurts and the pain is radiating down my hips. I prop a large kitty on my abdomen because the pressure helps somewhat.

I feel like my ute is falling out like a dead transmission and I just wish it would and be done with it.

Tell me, please, that it will feel better tomorrow.

My dear P,

Did you really read this? If you did and you thought I was "saying bad things about you on the internet," I want to apologize. You see, sometimes I have to gripe about your bitching on here to get it out of my system. It doesn't mean that I actually think bad things about you (or I that I don't get over it once I've had time to think about it more.) The people who read this are mostly going through the same stuff we are and they understand the frustration is about the situation more than anything else.

If your feelings were hurt, I'm sorry. I never meant for that to happen.

Love,
Wife

things that made my day better

• I went to Bed, Bath & Beyond in hopes of resolving the bedding issue. As I was crossing the parking lot this old lady stopped me. "I shouldn't have gone in there," she said, and I was confused until I saw how full her cart was. Then I haughed heartily. Expensive indeed.
• I think we've come to an agreement about the comforter. Huge relief. Am ready to buy curtains. No more whitetrashbedroom.
• Barring cysts, this cycle is still a go and things have resolved.
• Getting a grip and realizing that sometimes my husband just likes to bitch and it doesn't really mean anything.
• Watching my naughty cat play his food game (picture to follow)
• Kittenwar (link fixed)
• Shamefully, the start of Big Brother All-Stars (yes, it sucks that it's all-stars, but I'm nothing if not commited where TV is concerned, so I'll be watching this summer too.)
  

just a rough day

Is it so wrong to sometimes wish my husband was someone different? I mean, standard disclaimer, love him, many good qualities, wouldn't trade and all that, but sometimes I read about other people's husbands being all helpful, supportive, or involved and I get a little jealous. P is really good at standing up for me, he'll do things if I ask him to, and he goes to every appointment, willingly. Sometimes though, I just want my husband to have a freaking clue know what's going on, understand things like timing issues, share my feelings about this doctor, blah, blah, blah. I want him to refrain from bitching and moaning not complain about having blood drawn for the *gasp* third time. I want him to say that he understands that doctor visits are much more uncomfortable and unpleasant for me than for him. He's so internal about stuff that sometimes I forget that he really is there in it all with me. I know he loves me and he wants to have children with me, but sometimes it gets really old always being the one calling the show.

Of course

I'm late. No spotting. No red. No brown. Nothing inside or out.

P has been asking me constantly if this means there's a baby in there. I ask myself how the hell you'd get one "in there" in the first place. I let myself believe, just a little, that it was possible.

We've been waiting for day 1 to set up next cycle. P has to bring in his cup of love to the office tomorrow so they can store it for me (he will be traveling during IUI week) on the off chance I don't have a cyst and can actually have a medicated cycle before my fridge full o' needles expire. Because I was late we left this scheduling to the last minute and we now have no sterile specimen container (must remember to tell Nurse Helpful that "a pharmacy" is unlikely to have this product and she should therefore not suggest that patients go there. Also, really tired of saying "sterile specimen container" to strangers.)

P has had a couple of really unfortuante experiences with producing on the spot at the office so we try to avoid them at all costs by going the at-home route whenever possible. It's too late to change our time, of course, and we're currently living under Murphy's Law for all things, so I really shouldn't be surprised at this latest development.

Oh, and the pregnancy test that I had to go out and buy to satisfy my loving husband was negative (It's been forever since I bought one of these things. Can't believe I let him badger me into it.)

In case you were wondering.

Playing to my own crowd

You know when you have this thing that you think makes you a lunatic and someone says to you, "I do that too" and you think, "Wow, I'm not alone, maybe I'm not so crazy!" and then a little bit later you realize that you failed to consider the possibility that you're both nuts?

Yeah, that happened to me.

I am, most certainly, completely insane

There I was, standing in the aisle filled with baking supplies. Usually I hurry through this aisle, as I almost never need anything in it, and the boxes of coffee cake mix are far too tempting when I'm weak.

But not this day.

On this day, I lingered. I knew turning my cart into the aisle, looking at the spices and oils and sugars that I was going to stop. I had one thing on my mind: chocolate frosting. I needed to find some chocolate frosting that I could eat from the container, health be damned. And as I stood there, pondering the merits of milk chocolate vs. chocolate fudge and Pillsbury vs. Betty Crocker, I realized that I was probably more than a little crazy.

I'm pretty sure that once you've decided you're going to eat the frosting directly from the container with or without a spoon like a fat cow, you no longer need to analyze the various candidates and select the winner based on its freaking sugar/fat/sodium content.

Just pick one so you can later fish it out of the grocery bag while still in the parking lot and have a fingerful right there in the front seat of the car, you raving psycho.

Brought to you by the letter W

W is for Waiting. I'm waiting to be a mom, waiting for my next period, waiting for stims, waiting to hear back about a master's program I'm interested in, waiting for the dryer to beep, waiting for my refund check from my old phone company. Update: it'a a no-go on the master's program, at least for now.

W is for Wildlife. In addition to the ducks, I've also seen a muskrat (had no idea what the thing was, thought a "muskrat" was a fake animal, had to google) and a blue heron and some turtles and a snake. P saw a deer and I missed it.

W is for Window Washing. I have 16 windows and two glass doors. I've used up 34 trees cleaning them.

W is for Wicked. How awesome was that show? I'm so seeing that again! Defying Gravity is my new favorite song.

W is for White-trash Window covering. Due to the down comforter issue, I'm renewing the search for bedding. I've been reluctant to purchase curtains until I finalize the bedding because if it didn't match I couldn't stand it. Yes, I do realize that some people have actual problems.

W is for Wishy-Washy. I'm pretty sure the cashiers are going to notice soon that I keep buying and returning things. I bought two dresses (for my mom's Wedding) and returned one. I've bought three different silverware drawer organizers only to find out that none of them fit. I bought a cordless phone for the wall in the kitchen but there's no outlet nearby so that has to be exchanged for a corded one. I'm returning the aforementioned comforter and the pillows I bought to match. I'm usually such a pain in the ass who takes forever to make a purchase thoughtful shopper that I actually feel bad for returning things.

W is for Where are my tickets? I think P gave me tickets to a concert in February. Before the move. And I just realized that I'm not entirely sure where they are. And he doesn't know yet. And the concert is next week. I better get off the damn internet and go look. Update: I found them. If I forget again, tell me to look by the alcohol.

good mama

P called me out into the front yard where we saw a family of ducks. As he approached them to take a picture, the mama duck quacked at him and herded her babies across the street.

they're just taking up refrigerator space

canceled.

More Cat Pictures

The boys are adjusting nicely to their new home. I'm pretty sure big kitty thinks he hit the jackpot, as this house is the biggest we've had yet (and has the most windows.) The little one might not know we moved.

Who doesn't love napping in a pedestal sink?


We don't know how long he was up there before we noticed him. We don't know how he got up there. He did look mildly concerned about his prospects for getting back down.



There are many windows to monitor. They often run from the front to the back of the house to track bugs, birds, etc. as they perform their watch duties.





The backyard is endlessly fascinating, however the pull of a morning nap in the sunshine is often too strong to resist.

Answers

5. Do you know the secret to not having your down comforter look messy on the bed once you put a duvet cover on it?

Ok, I was kinda hoping one you YOU would know the secret and tell ME. I've come up with these possible solutions:

1) Do nothing and have a messy looking bed. Ok, I couldn't even let that one stand, it's that absurd.
2) Discover that your husband is possibly allergic to the hypoallergenic down comforter and run various experiments that include benadryl, claritin, sleeping with the window open and then shut, removing the comforter and returning it to the store.

Now, which sounds like more fun to you?

Cats, I got clips that go on the inside and did a pretty decent job keeping it in place. Want em?

***
1. What's leatherman juice s2?

I blew it on this one. I meant the squirt p4. (P has the juice s2 and bugged me to buy it for so long it got stuck in my head.) Anyway. The leatherman squirt p4 is a really cool pocketknife. P made fun of me when I first got it (which is bizarre since he gave it to me) because of its size. It's small. It has scissors instead of pliers, which I find far more useful. I mean, how often do you reach for your handy pliers when you're out and about? Not often. But if you're carrying scissors, you can snip loose threads, price tags, security tags, and someone's hair if they're in front of you in line and they have 16 items in the express lane. Who, me? Nope, just putting my pliers back in my purse.

It's shiny and beautiful and red. And I use it a lot. And P has since eaten his words and borrowed it several times because he can't be bothered to go look for scissors. Hello! They're in the drawer. The same drawer I always hide them in! But, no, please, search my purse because that's easier.


***

And did the B&N card pay for itself?

YES! However, I think that's mostly because we made it part of our routine to go to B&N on the weekend and look around, read magazines, and buy overpriced coffee beverages fairly regularly. Each week we'd buy a beverage, a snack, and then our mags/books while making fun of the students who brought their homework to the bookstore and sat there for hours over one mostly empty frappuccino (ok, so we bitched about this when there were no tables available because some people are table hogs and only have a plastic cup of water and a calculus book, but whatever.)

We saved around $80 after the cost of the card, which I'm pretty sure just paid for the 'bucks we drank there each week.

***

Next up:

4. Yes! Always more cat pictures!

Five

I have mean things to say about:
my doctor
adelphia
above-ground pools and chain link fences
my silverware-drawer plight

however, since I've been tagged by Angie (OMG, really? someone reads here? and wanted to tag me?) I'll take this opportunity to not whine. For now.

Five Items in my Fridge
Corona
limes
Smirnoff Ice
Pur water dispenser
Arizona Southern Style Sweet Tea (this is my new crack!)

(hmmm... all beverages. perhaps I'm thirsty. I actually have a lot of stuff in there. do you care about all my salad dressings, dips, and vegetables?)

Five Items in my Closet
clothes
shoes
spare towels
laundry hamper
bag of purses I don't use

Five Items in my Car
satellite radio
coupons
prescription glasses so I can see at night
box of shot glasses from each state we passed through on our trip
toilet paper that I haven't brought inside yet

Five Items in my Purse
leatherman juice s2 (love the scissors!) ACK! I meant squirt s4. P has the juice.
mints
dental floss (I hate having something in my teeth)
sharpie mini
small notebook (where I've recorded each purchase made at B&N since last year when we bought their discount card because I wanted to be sure that it paid for itself. Also, I get ideas and I have to write them down.)


Um, I have to boss Five Other People? Last time I asked for participation it didn't go so well, so instead I'll ask you Five Questions.

1. Did you learn something new I should expand on?
2. Are you even more bored with me? (you know what? don't answer that.)
3. Do you wish I would go back to bitching?
4. Would you rather see more cat pictures?
5. Do you know the secret to not having your down comforter look messy on the bed once you put a duvet cover on it?

Top Ten Reasons to Love a Burst Cyst

10. quality middle-of the night time spent with your cats since you're down on the floor anyway

9. the added exercise you get when you realize all of your painkillers are at the complete opposite side of the damn house

8. finding out where the hospital is in your new city even if you don't end up going

7. not having to go out to breakfast when you really didn't want to but were going to anyway because your husband wanted to

6. finding you on the stairs shivering and only mostly conscious turns a tired, cranky husband into a helpful, caring sweetheart (who might drive you nuts by asking you every 30 minutes if you're feeling better. but hey, he's asking!)

5. funny tumor jokes made at the expense of your fibroid (poor bastard gets blamed for everything around here!)

4. staying in bed watching "Honey, We're Killing the Kids" for hours because you're too tired to do anything else

3. drug-induced naps

2. wearing fat pants, loose pants, or no pants is perfectly acceptable

1. decisions made for the indecisive. worried about your upcoming cycle? don't bother because your doctor will be very reluctant to let you go anyway. problem solved!

On our trip...

My boys inherited this bed from my mom's dog who never liked it.

At first, only my big kitty liked it.



Then, the "little" one discovered the glory of the bed.



But what happens when the little one won't get up when the big one wants to have a nap?

You sit on his insubordinate ass until he moves!



Sharing the bed is a tight squeeze, but it can be done if you must.



(none of the couches in these pictures are mine, they all live in various hotels.)

The loop

What's up with the all the disappearing blogs? Bueller?