Thursday, April 30, 2009

It's driving him crazy that no one responded to his last email...

BTW, since NONE of you spineless Binghamtoners (or whatever you call yourselves) don't have the BALLS to respond to what i wrote below, here are the 50th Anniversary TZ events I have orchestrated to date so far this year--just to show you IDIOTS what you passed up by rejecting me. Your loss, ASSHOLES.

How to Win Friends and Influence People

This is long, but so worth it. I have to give the background, first. We are working on an academic conference on the works of Rod Serling at the College, to be held in the fall. We received paper proposals and as a committee, decided on who we should accept and who we shouldn't. We were up in the air on this one guy, because he tends to be a pain in the ass, but he is knowledgeable on the subject. So rather than outright dismiss him, we decided to throw him a bone and have him host a marathon one of the nights.

So the other day, this is what I wrote to him:


On behalf of the Conference Committee, I am sorry to inform you that your paper proposal has not been accepted for inclusion at the fall conference, "Celebrating 50 Years of The Twilight Zone."

We received a great number of proposals -- nearly double the amount of proposals we have received in previous years -- and the caliber of all the proposals made this a difficult decision.

However, the committee would like to ask you host the TZ marathon and introduce each episode (the night is still TBD) at the Conference in October. We will do an online poll and use the top three vote-getters, a pick from each the president and the dean, and then ask you to choose the remaining three episodes to show.

If this is still acceptable to you, please let me know no later than May 7.

thanks, Ellie

To which I almost immediately received the following:

If you think that, after coming up last year for NO MONEY and doing TWO presentations (the marathon plus my multimedia presentation) that BOTH of Serling's daughters came up to me with tears in their eyes thanking me, and then, this year, offering to DESIGN your materials FOR NO MONEY--which you, Ms. Lincoln, basically REFUSED--and then, to have my efforts REBUFFED like your letter above, when i just got done presenting BOTH presentations to the NY Comic Convention this past February (and the upcoming summer San Diego Convention, the country's BIGGEST pop culture convention this July, which would both HONOR the 50th TZ anniversary AND give YOUR October celebration a plug), is the HEIGHT of your DISRESPECT of both myself and my efforts to promote The Twilight Zone, and more importantly, Rod Serling's memory.

And for even MY TZ Marathon idea to be basically REJECTED in favor of a mixed-committee hodgepodge with NO FOCUS only adds to the SLAP IN THE FACE you have just DISRESPECTED me with even FURTHER.

So good luck with your symposium WITHOUT my presentations, which only makes YOU, the RS Foundation, and ALL the attendees POORER without my participation.

You all don't DESERVE me.

One of my committee members thought I should write back to him, so we had it in writing, that we were taking this as rejecting the offer to host the marathon. So in my sweetest email voice possible:

Thank you for replying to my email so quickly. I will take this as you declining our offer to host the marathon. We will fill the slot with someone else.

thanks, Ellie

And then:

SCREW YOU, Ms. Lincoln.

We all got a chuckle out of it, except for one of my committee members -- a retired faculty member -- who was incensed that anyone would speak to me that way. So he fired off an email to this asshole.

Dear Asshole (he actually the guy's real name, but this is more fun):

I've been following the correspondence between you and Ellie Lincoln.

Even though the committee decided not to include your proposed paper in the program, we felt -- based on your participation in our earlier conference, and your knowledge of Serling and his work -- that you would appreciate the opportunity to participate in our third Serling event. But, your responses to this offer have shocked all of us... and I personally find your ranting extremely offensive and unprofessional. Your last comment to Ms. Lincoln was unbelievably rude. I'm surprised that anyone aspiring to be involved in future events honoring this "master" television writer would allow such a "temper tantrum" to be transmitted in writing -- on the internet yet!

If your paper proposal had any merit to begin with, it has certainly been greatly diminished by your reaction to the committee's ruling. You have proven, by your actions, that you clearly lack the ability to communicate within either professional or academic circles.

I knew Asshole wouldn't be able to not have the last word. Sure enough, about an hour later:

If you think, Mr. Weber, that I'm going to take even MORE time out of my day to dissect and respond to your holier-than-thou, high-&-mighty, ivory-tower BULLSHIT spewed in your e-mail below, sorry--I've got more important work for clients who not only PAY me for my hard work, but more importantly, RESPECT me for that hard work, for my EXPERIENCE, and my KNOWLEDGE.

But YOU Binghamton people have your HEADS so far UP YOUR COLLECTIVE ASSES that [one of the committte members]--for one--NEVER EVEN RESPONDED to the 12-minute DVD that I sent her a few months ago, that I made of a Twilight Zone VIDEO INSTALLATION I was invited to participate in, using the words, images, and music from the series (like my VISIONS presentation does). So other than the RUDENESS of getting ABSOLUTELY NO REACTION FROMM HER, gee, Mr. Weber, does ANY ONE of the "participants" your and your FUCKED-UP committee chose OVER ME have the ARTISTIC CAPABILITIES AND WHEREWITHAL to put such a piece of TWILIGHT ZONE ART together as my 12-miniute video installation represents? That I was offering to your "institution" (as in MENTAL institution at this point) for FREE because I love and honor Rod Serling's memory & The Twilight Zone like NO ONE ELSE?

Can ANYONE Ms. Lincoln chose OVER ME to design your graphic materials (for FREE again, mind you) for your symposium BETTER SUITED than me, the man who not only created and designed all of the aforementioned, but to this day, has designed the ONLY coffeetable art book about the series, both Zicree's and Gordon Sanders' TZ book covers, as well as my multimedia show that I've been presenting for OVER TWENTY YEARS?!?!?!?!?

The answer to all of the above is, of course, NO. But YOU, Mr. Weber, as part of this "committee," I assume, have YOUR OWN fucked-up "agendas" that obviously have NOTHING to do with RESPECTING me and what SHOULD have been a WELCOMING of my participation--you people should have been INVITING me to come this year, given my TRACK RECORD on all things Twilight Zone.

But instead, you chose to DIMINISH and DISRESPECT me by throwing me in with all your other BORING presenters (trust me, I saw PLENTY last year), and then, to add insult to injury, expected me to GROVEL for the CRUMBS of a mini-marathon that, last year, I SINGLE-HANDEDLY turned from a potential dark room showing random TZ episodes (like ALL past TZ marathons at conventions) into a full-fledged intellectual discourse in the TZ ("Five Themes of The Twilight Zone").

So for that, Mr. Weber, I say to YOU, and to Ms. Lincoln, and the ENTIRE Ithaca community that rejected me so DISGUSTINGLY:


And yes, Weber, I have the balls to do it here, "on the internet" even. FUCK YOU, personally, for having the unmitigated GALL to write back to me with your sanctimonious, self-serving CRAP. Stick it up your ASS where it belongs.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

E's Back

I heard from E over the weekend, actually had a text waiting from me when I got out of foster care class.

"how's my sexy bitch?"

"I'm good...missing you."

"me too"

And then because it was the NFL Draft Day, I didn't hear from him again.

This morning, I came back from a meeting to "hey u"

"Hi baby."

"When do I get to watch you [do something] to my [adjective, adjective, adjective] [part of my anatomy]?" Ya'll can figure out what he was saying.

Tempting as it sounded (and it did), I can't do anything for another 10 days or so. And he doesn't know that I'm trying to get pregnant, that I'm on "vaginal rest" for two weeks, not to mention the bruises all over my stomach and ass from my new set of shots.

How to answer? I tried to call Bubbles at work, but it went right to voice mail. I can do this on my own.

"Hmmmm...nice visual, want to soon. I can't next week, week after?"

It's good for him for me to not be immediately available, right? Right or not, that's the way it has to be. I'll call the whole fucking nine months without if the doctor tells me to, if it means sustaining a pregnancy.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

A Late Bloomer

I went to Syracuse yesterday for the embryo transfer, still a little down about only four eggs and two embryos. FG walked and said, "we've got three beautiful embryos."

Both Jill and I said, "no, two."

"No, three. One more decided to grow." And I started to cry, and as FG does so well, he held my hand, hugged me and talked about God's plan and visually what it is I want, a beautiful baby. He spent a good five to seven minutes with me -- an eternity for someone as busy as he is -- and then his parting words.

"Remember God gives us what we ask for...and sometimes something better."

And so I visualized on Hope, Faith and Bob -- my three beautiful embryos -- and the goal. A beautiful, healthy baby.

The transfer went really well, and by the time I left my second acupuncture session of the day, my mood did a complete 180. I have hope again, I have a positive attitude. And right now, I have three lives inside of me. And right now, at least one of them is burrowing in and getting ready for the next nine months.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

I'm a baseball nerd, I admit it

I went out to dinner with a friend tonight, and as we were walking through the Commons, I saw a chalkboard in front of the burrito place.

TRIVIA: What year did Babe Ruth hit his 714th home run?

"I know that." And it excited me in a way that only talking about baseball excites me.

I walked in and said, "1935."

The guy at the counter looked confused, until I pointed to the sign. "The trivia question...1935."

A girl from the back came out and said, "You're right, you win chips and salsa."

"Oh I don't need that, I just wanted to make sure I was right. And I think the exact date was May 25."

"Yea that's right."

I walked back out to my friend. "I was right, and he actually hit 712, 713 and 714 that day. In Pittsburgh. And then retired a week later."

"How do you remember this shit?"

"It was my job."

Yup, I'm a nerd, but I know my George stats. ;)

Putting all my eggs in one basket

I went to Syracuse yesterday for my retrieval. After three weeks of injections and nine ultrasounds, after two months of waiting to get back on the horse following the miscarriage, it was finally time.

Hope went with me to drive me home following the procedure. She had never been with me to one of these appointments, but I've told her so much, she knew what to expect. They let her stay in the room with me while I was out and they did the actual retrieval. So she was right there when I woke up.

Four eggs. I felt like I got punched in the stomach. Four? Only four? Hope told me that embryologist said they looked really good, that I should get three or four embryos from them. I was disappointed, but tried to remain positive.

We continued with our adventure, over to the office next door for acupuncture, and then headed south back home. I had lunch with Heather and then did a little grocery shopping. By that point, I was worn out and a little crampy. I needed to remember that even though I recover from this procedure much better than anyone ever expects, I still had a surgical procedure done. I went home, put the freezer and fridge stuff away and left the rest on the counter, before climbing into my chair and sleeping for the next three hours.

I alternatively felt sorry for myself and my four eggs and tried to think positively -- I only need one embryo to get pregnant. Still, being able to put two or three in would increase my chances.

I went to bed early last night, still tired. About 10:30, my cell phone beeped and woke me up. Because I had been in such a sound sleep, I didn't realize what beep it was -- E, J or just the general one.

I opened the phone. It was from J. "hi, how did everything go today?"

I sighed, without even being able to explain to myself what I was feeling. I started to type that there were only four, that I was disappointed, etc. But I erased it all. Not the baby daddy, not my husband or my boyfriend, or my lover. So I wrote back, "Good, I'll find out tomorrow when the transfer is and how many embryos."

"Keep me posted babe."

I had foster care class this morning. Already in week 8. I'm actually going to get through these 11 weeks -- wow. I had my phone on vibrate and the FG's office called about 10:30.

"They injected all four eggs and two fertilized, so that's great. You've got two embryos."

It's better than one or none. But again, disappointment. This shows me that my quality egg reserve is not-so-slowly dwindling. My first retrieval was seven eggs, and netted five embryos. The second retrieval was seven eggs, three embryos. This time, four and two.

Instead of spending the day thinking about what this all means, how many eggs I may actually have left, how many chances I actually have, I would really like to spend the day with someone -- Chris or E or J -- who can make me laugh, make me realize that it's okay, that I still have choices and chances. I'll feel sorry for myself for a few more hours and then I'll snap out of it.

Because I have to. Because I need to put my positive hat on and get ready for the transfer, to not think about anything but the transfer on Monday.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

The Mom Version of Ellie's Adventures

A few weeks ago, Heather told her mom the very G-rated version of my recent adventure meeting E. Her first response, "I thought Ellie was a nice girl." And then, "what did they do?"

Later that same day, I was on the phone with Heather, her mother was in the background trying to convince me to skip work and go over and hang out with them. "I want to hear more about your story."

"You told your mother?!"

"Yea, she said she thought you were a nice girl."

And then from Sandie in the background, "Get it while you can! Was it good?"


Last night, she told Heather to tell me, "there are going to be a lot of cute men in Cortland this summer, the Giants or the Jets....some team. Tell Ellie to go meet them."

It reminded me of when Bubbles and I went to NYC last summer and I hooked up with my Yankee. When we returned to Baltimore, Bubbles' mom Diane met us at her place to drop off the dog. We told a version of the truth involving drinking and my Yankee coming back to the hotel with us, but sort of left it at that.

After she left, Bubbles said, "I give her one week before she asks me if you slept with him."

I left the next morning to come back home. I wasn't even out of the state of Maryland when my phone rang. "Diane just called and asked not only if you slept with him, but what time of the month is it and could you be pregnant?"

I love my friends' moms supporting my single girl's search.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Is it Friday yet?

Another trip to Syracuse yesterday and the follicles are growing slowly, but steadily. With three mature, and the other four lagging behind, they've scheduled me for retrieval on Friday. Finally!

I had to do shots last night and tonight, and then blood work (but no U/S) tomorrow. Tomorrow night at precisely 9pm, I will do the trigger shots (hCG, to start the egg release), nothing on Thursday, and then Friday the big day.

I gotta tell you, last week at this time, I didn't know if it would ever get here. Fingers crossed that he can pull out a lot of good eggs.


E texted me last week. "haven't heard from you in a while. what's up?"

"I'm sorry...I thought I told you I was the coolest chick you know. I don't cling, I don't hover, I take your lead. You want to talk to me, you know how to reach me."

"you're right, you are the coolest chick i know." And then with five simple words, my stomach did a flip. "miss that mouth of yours"


The over/under on any of my boys remembering my birthday was 1.5. I went under, though I had faith that Chris would remember. Bubbles went with the push. "Chris will call and if J calls, he's only half a man anyway...."

Chris didn't disappoint, though it wasn't on my actual birthday, I gave him credit. When he called two days after the actual date, the first thing he said was "I missed your birthday, sorry. Was it good?"

J didn't remember, despite what he said less than a week before. He's getting closer to being erased from the phone.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Should have had faith

I'm glad I waited to talk to Heather until tomorrow about her email, glad that I kind of knew it was her venting, even if she ultimately decides to stay home with her baby.

This afternoon, I got the following text from her:

I know I have been a shitty friend lately (to all of my friend communications wise) but in addition to feeling sorry for myself today I wanted to let you know I am thinking of you tomorrow and sending you good vibes that everything looks good to go for Wednesday. Looking forward to catching up with your life. :)

Again, my friends come through in ways that my family never could.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Retrieval and a UTI

Lucky me! I drove up to Syracuse this morning for my U/S at the FG's office. They immediately saw things differently than my local doctor's office. I guess the follicles are clustered and on top of each other, so I have more mature than two and they think I will be ready for retrieval on Wednesday. I will continue shooting up tonight and tomorrow, and then back to Syracuse for another U/S on Monday morning.

I also noticed Wednesday night (when I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night) an unusual irritation. I hadn't had a yeast infection since college, but I was remembering this was what it was like. It wasn't constant, really just when I went to the bathroom. I mentioned it to the doctor's office yesterday and they said yes that could very well be the case because of all the extra hormones, that if I could stick it out one more night they would test me this morning.

They did a urine test, and there were in fact leukocytes in the urine, indicating not a yeast infection, but the start of an urinary tract infection. So I'm on antibiotics for 10 days. And I'm drinking lots of cranberry juice.

When I was driving up to Syracuse I was thinking all sort of horrible things that it could be, even though logically it really felt like a simple infection. I hadn't had any blood tests for STD's in almost a year, and in that time I had been with three different men, though Chris being one of them, I felt okay about him. Lucia may think I'm foolish to think so, but I really believe I'm the only one he has on the side. My Yankee and E, on the other hand...

Thankfully, it's a simple UTI and I'm on antibiotics.


My friend at work returns from 17 weeks of maternity leave on Monday. She sent me a long email on Friday, an excerpt of which is:

I am just miserable and physically sick from the thought of leaving her to sit at work. I don't want to come back at all. People keep making jokes about don't I miss the work and how much work I have waiting and that freaking catalog. I could honestly give two shits about any of that as I am sure you can imagine, so I don't really find it funny. :( Not that you should be telling your boss this, haha, but I know I can talk to you. I have no desire to come to work, do any work and I really don't care about the work -- it all seems so meaningless now. I don't know if I can do it day in ad day out if I continue to feel like this. I used to enjoy working work and even sometimes found work rewarding -- now it all seems like a waste of time when I could be spending my time with her.

It was really the last thing I wanted to read yesterday, and even now, just re-reading it. I just want to say to her, "I need this week to be about me. Can you do that for me? I've been covering your work since December 10. We can deal with you missing your baby next week."

I'm not sure how to answer her, and I'm guessing that it will be better to talk to her in person about it. I understand and won't begrudge her if she wants to quit and stay home with the baby, but it will freaking piss me off, because the way things work in higher education, it will take forever to find a replacement for her, to train someone. I was without someone before we hired her for nine months. I don't know if I can do that again. And hopefully I'll be going out on maternity leave at the end of the year, beginning of next. The whole thing just makes me crazy to think about.

Friday, April 17, 2009


I went for my U/S this morning -- the 7th one in less than three weeks -- and blood work. I have two follicles over 20mm, the rest are still pretty small, in the 12-14mm range.

Because I go locally for the U/S and the information gets faxed to Syracuse to the Fertility Guru, they in FG's office are not actually seeing the U/S pictures, just the measurements. I usually hear from the FG's office in the afternoon, but I was barely at my desk this morning when my phone rang.

They are concerned with the lack of growth, and according to my blood work and my hormone levels, the follicles should be much bigger. "Can you come to Syracuse tomorrow so we can see for ourselves what's going on?"

So I get to skip foster care class and drive up to Syracuse for a 9:15 appointment. I have no idea what this means, if they will be scrapping this month or we'll continue with shots and wait for more growth or they'll go in for the two that are mature. Who knows? I've given up trying to guess on what I know from past cycles. We've already determined that this month is nothing like any other cycle.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Black and blue

Tomorrow night will be two weeks since I started this round of shots -- three sticks a night, including the new medicine which stings like a mother fucker. And the needle, even though it's only subcutaneous, is longer than the others. And I usually end up bleeding a little with that stick. And what that means is this...

Yes, that's my lower belly (and yes that's my Mickey Mouse tattoo -- notice that he's wearing a Yankees hat), bruises along with prick marks. Lovely, isn't it? They tell me it will all be worth it. I'll let you know when it is.

This week the follicle are continuing to grow, but they're taking their own sweet time. I thought for sure today (and thought the same thing on Monday) that this would be it, it would be time to start preparing for the retrieval. This morning, I had two that were 20mm (that's the magic number) but they want to give the others more time to grow since they are only in the 12 to 14mm range. So two more nights of injections, and more blood work (my arm is bruised, as well) and another ultrasound on Friday.

Maybe retrieval on Monday or Tuesday?


My niece's baby shower was last Saturday. I didn't go. I sent a gift and no apologies. My mother asked what she should tell people if they asked why I wasn't there.

"Tell them the truth if they ask, tell them it's too hard."

So Sunday, when my parents came down to visit for Easter dinner, I asked how the shower was, if she got nice gifts, and if anyone asked why I wasn't there. And the reply shouldn't have surprised me. It was typical Fran.

"No, but I made sure they knew why you weren't there."

"What do you mean?" Even though, I knew. I've seen my mother in momma bear mode many times.

"I pulled Erica (the pregnant niece) and Angie (her sister) aside and said, 'you know why your aunt isn't here, don't you?' And they said no, so I told them that it was too hard with you losing the baby."

"And what did they say?"

"Nothing. So I said, 'you do know she had a miscarriage, don't you?' And they said they did."

Now I was pissed. "Did they even fucking ask how I was?"

My mother paused. She didn't need to answer, I knew not only from her expression, but also because she didn't say anything about me saying "fuck" in front of her. But she went down this road, so I made her. "Well?"

"No, they didn't."

I'm so glad I didn't waste my time to drive to Syracuse for the shower. It would have just annoyed me.

I still don't know why I let my family get to me. Why I expect them to behave any differently, why I expect them to be able to see beyond themselves.

Someone told me a long time ago that I shouldn't have the same expectations for other people that I have for myself, that it will only set me up for disappointment. And for the most part, I try not to do that, try not to set my expectations too high, but with my own fucking family? I don't think that's expecting too much. And I won't lower my expectations for them.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

My Last Day at 38

Happy birthday (almost) to me. I like to think of my birthday as my New Year's. It's a time to be reflective, it's a time to think about the last year, and a time to think about the coming year and all I want to accomplish.

Same as last year -- I've spent the past year focusing on trying to get pregnant. And same as last year -- I will spend the next year focusing on much of the same. Although the difference is, by the time my 40th birthday rolls around, I will know one way or another....I will have a baby of my own, or I will be working on adopting.

In the next year, I hope that all of my bad boys will be put away in their appropriate places. I hope that they will either give me what I deserve (regardless of what I tell them I want or expect from them) or I will have the strength to walk away.

And by the time my 40th birthday rolls around (unless I've just given birth in the past few months), I want to be back in my skinny clothes. I want to get rid of this pudgy stomach and muffin top. I want to look the way I used to in a pair of jeans and a bra and nothing else.

And I hope that by the time my 40th birthday rolls around, I will be happy turning 40, that I will accept 40 with grace, honor and happiness.

Having accomplished at least one of the three goals above will go a long way in helping me meet 40 with these virtues.

Friday, April 10, 2009


Four miles.....48:31.

Yeah....bring on 39, I'm not afraid of getting older. I'm only getting better.

And we keep going....

I had an ultrasound this morning. The missing follicles are still missing -- either the egg released (that's U/S tech's best guess) or it just disintegrated or got smaller (my guess) -- but there are seven total. Most are in the 10-11mm range.

The tech pissed me off, because even after telling me that she was sure the eggs must have released and I told her my blood levels were nowhere near ovulatory, she said, well, I don't know that they're going to tell you, probably will have you scrap this month.

So that was my mood all morning. Worrying about another month going by, wondering why my body isn't responding to the meds the way it has in the past, and especially since I'm on more than usual. And then the doctor's office called me why I was in "stitch and bitch" (a group of ladies brings their knitting and I bring my quilting, and we stitch and bitch during lunch on Fridays) to tell me to keep going with the same doses and go back in on Monday for another follicle check.

So we're still going. I'm bloated as all hell, but I keep telling myself it will be worth it. It's good practice to look four months pregnant even when I'm not, right?

The Yankees are on at 4:10 today, so my goal for the gym while I watch the game is four miles in under 50 minutes.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

I'm Weak...But Getting Better

(I have to admit that I'm writing this while I'm supposed to be paying attention in a computer training session at work. You gotta love the back row in the computer lab.)

Tuesday, I got home and immediately finished with my pre home-study cleaning, especially vacuuming and steam cleaning the rug near Casey's litter box. When I turned off the cleaner, I heard the shrill beeps of my cell phone, indicating a text from J.

Literally out loud, I said, "really?"

I went downstairs and saw that he had actually texted 15 minutes ago. "I blew off work and am drinking wine down in Fell's Point. Does that make me bad?"

"Not bad enough. If you're going to blow off work, you should be getting blown, doncha think?"

It went downhill from there. For the next two hours. Including me sending him the picture I took for E of my in the pink oxford. "Speechless" was the response to that.

"You're with friends. Call me when you're driving home."

"You better be'll be a while."

He never actually stopped texting, even though he was obviously out with friends. "I will be, and I supposed you'll be worth the wait."

"It will be worth it. Just get naked. You're hot...enjoy it."

And he's stepped up his texting. A couple, I wondered if these were really from J or from E. But they were from J. He was a little more forceful, and I told him I was digging this tougher J in control of me.

When he finally called, about 8:30, there was no small talk. I could actually hear him slapping the monkey. And what I love about the phone sex with him, he does all the talking. And he knows exactly what he wants to be doing, what he wants me to be doing. Until the point in the conversation when he said... "we're fucking in perfect rhythm, I'm kissing you so deeply, we've never experienced anything like this with anyone else we've been with."

I stopped what I was doing and looked at the phone. Did he really just say that? Seriously?! I didn't even know how to respond to that, and thankfully I didn't have to, he kept going. And then, perhaps more disturbing that the previous, "our bodies are becoming one."

WTF! I know I should have killed the mood right then and there and called him on the utter inappropriateness of that. Who would have thought that given this entire situation between the two of us for the past eight years that anything could be even more inappropriate than that? Well, he managed to do it not once, but twice.

When we were done with the dirty talk, he asked about the baby making and I filled him in on where I was in the process. He asked about my mood and how I was, related to the miscarriage. I glossed over the sadness, and told him about how being extra hormone-free had effected me last month.

"I could have bitten someone's head off for sex."

"Really? And..."

"Well, I have this guy who's been giving me blue balls for the past eight years, but he told me we would get together before the next cycle started, he would look at his schedule and call me in the next week."

"What happened?"

"You never called."

"Oh, that's me. Sorry, El."

"You've been giving me blue balls for the past eight years."

"You can't have blue balls."

"Oh no...I'm more like a guy when it comes to sex...can do it without mushiness and emotions, and baby if this ever happens, my hand will be on the back of your head pushing it down just like a guy."

He laughed, but I figured this was an opportune time. "I told you a long time ago that I have no expectations of you, just the ones you give me." I know I had delivered this message before, but it was via text. Who knows if he really heard it? But I could make sure now that he heard it.

"I know. You're right." And then he tried to change the subject. "Will you keep me posted after your next doctor appointment?"

"We're not done with that conversation."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Honestly? I'm wondering if this is ever going to happen, you and me, some afternoon."

"I don't know what to tell you EllieLincoln." (Whenever he says my full name, he says it as all one word.)

"You're the only one who can know." There was some silence and then back to the baby talk. I should have been firm, I should have gone in for the kill, I should have told him that until or unless he actually follows through, we can't do this anymore.

I should have....but I didn't. I don't know why it's so hard to cut the cord with him, but it is.

We talked some more about Baltimore stuff -- the Orioles, baseball, the museum. We talked more about the baby stuff -- he's so fascinated by it all.

And then he said something about the picture I sent him. "You looked so hot in it, sexy. I really liked the one you sent me last month too, but in that one you looked cute, almost vulnerable because your hair was wet, just out of the shower..."

"So did you show your friends at the bar, the hot redhead with the nice rack?"

"Oh no...that's all for me. And listen to you, nice rack..."

"Do you disagree?"

"It's better than nice."

I guess that's why it's so hard to cut the cord. Because he's good for my ego. Although Bubbles challenged me on that last night. "You just had a fucking ESPN radio star drive over an hour to meet you at a hotel room when he didn't even know you. J not only knows you, but you two have this amazing connection, explosive sexual attraction...and he can't get off his ass to meet you. Why do you put up with it? What is it going to take for you to say enough is enough?"

I didn't have an answer for her last night, and I really don't have an answer for you now. I just have to hope that someday soon enough will be enough.

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Missing Follicles

I went this morning for a follicle check, and where there were two big ones on Monday, they were missing today. Or smaller. I didn't exactly get the full story, mostly because everyone was perplexed, and apparently had never seen anything like this.

My blood work indicates that I did not ovulate, so I don't have to worry about that, but it is still weird that they aren't there any more. The doctor's office told me to continue with my shots (my stomach looks like a pin cushion, with lots of little red dots where the injections have gone in) and another follicle check on Friday, and we'll see where we are then.

I'm trying not to stress about it, but it's hard. Just once, just once, I would like this to all go routine. I ended up calling my friend April at the end of the day, because I knew she would understand what I'm feeling without me even having to put it into words. She's going through a similar thing and it's just good to hear her voice sometimes.

I also had my home study with DSS tonight. I'm guessing I passed, but she warned me that she wanted me to be realistic and know that the likelihood of being able to adopt a baby (0-2 years) through the system were slim. I know that, but I can't ignore this as an option.

Tomorrow: J update. Sneak preview: I was weak. But I just explained it all to Bubbles on the phone, so I'll give the recap tomorrow.

Monday, April 06, 2009

Happy Opening Day!

Life begins on opening day. I'm a little nostalgic for Baltimore today. And I would have been there if I didn't have a doctor's appointment this morning. Baby making takes precedence, even over the Yankees.

I had a follicle check and they were huge after only four days on the meds. I guess that second stimulant has been working. I had six follicles all together -- two in the low teens (in mm) and the rest between 5 and 10mm (18-20 is mature). So I'm just about halfway there.

I'll continue on my same dosage and go again on Wednesday for more blood work and another ultrasound. At this rate, I could have retrieval at the end of the week or on my birthday next Monday.

I'll take it as a good sign.


It is Opening Day, so this morning I texted all my baseball friends, including J and my (former) Yankee. I heard back almost immediately from my Yankee. I congratulated him on getting picked up by another team and being named the home opener starter later in the week.

I heard from J later in the morning: "Thanks, you too. I'm headed down there soon. Talk later?"

"Have fun. And sure, although make it a more reasonable hour next time or give me a heads up that you'll be calling."

"I absolutely will make it more reasonable next time."

Nothing earth-shattering, but I wasn't really looking for that. Just wanted to be a part of Opening Day by making sure I talked to, emailed or texted all my baseball friends in Baltimore.


And finally....I made sure I was at the gym for the first pitch of the Yankees/Orioles game. Got on the treadmill, put my ear buds in, and turned on my iPod Shuffle. And the first song that came up was "Thank God I'm a Country Boy." Made me even more homesick for Baltimore baseball today.

And if you don't understand that reference...

Saturday, April 04, 2009

Foster Care Class, Revisited

I finished week 5 of 11 this morning. It seems to be getting easier. Last week, I stayed after class and spoke with the social workers, sharing my feelings about not having sympathy for the birth parents. They didn't seem to mind, especially given that I want to adopt and won't have to work in partnership with the parents on reunifying the family.

So having had that conversation, going into class this morning was much easier. I even opened up to the class about it when it was appropriate in the conversation. My voice quivered, my eyes watered, but everyone seemed really supportive.

Some people have dropped out and I like the core group of people that we have left. My favorites -- Jason and Jason, a gay couple who are looking to do foster care but eventually want to adopt; Terry and Jennifer, another gay couple, who after my disclosure about my infertility struggles, shared that they had been trying to get pregnant as well and want to adopt; and Rebecca and Mark, a middle-aged couple with teenagers, who seem like they would be the "cool" parents.

I feel a new freedom about it, not worrying about the feelings I have towards the birth parents, worrying that this is a waste of everyone's time for me to be there, worrying about this and that. Today, I didn't worry, and I was back to myself, back to making comments and sharing, joining in, even volunteering for one of the activities.

And even if I don't need to have my baby this way -- the hormones have already bloated me up to a four-months-pregnant belly...I'll take it, it means they are working -- I'm learning good parenting skills, I being exposed to lots of things that I might not otherwise be exposed to, and learning is always a good thing.

Friday, April 03, 2009

I'm a Yankees Fan but....

this is fucking hysterical. And worth sharing...