Current Mood: Melancholy

I'm trying not to think. There's nothing really to think about it. It's out of my hands right now.

I have chosen an egg donor. The coordinator is looking for another woman for me to share her embryos with. When that call comes, I will make the final decision of whether I am doing that or not.

My mother's parish priest thinks he can get me a baby from Nigeria (where he's from). I have asked a friend's sister (who works in the adoption field) is this sounds on the up and up. I don't want to get arrested for baby smuggling. I'm waiting to hear from her, and the priest won't be able to give me an update until he travels back to Nigeria in January.

I've applied for a job at the College. I was strongly encouraged by my boss and my former VP. It's a good step up, would be a significant raise and would expand my skills and experience beyond marketing. I submitted my resume and cover letter today.

I've passed on the job opportunity in Mississippi, and although I am going to entertain my former boss and the job at the Museum where I used to work, I don't think Baltimore is the right place for me right now.

I've been to the gym every night this week, and have been eating well. Eating well = counting points. Ugh! I'm impatient to see some sort of results. Anything. On the scale, in my waistband. I'll step on the scale tomorrow. Hopefully it will keep me motivated.

Saturday would have been my due date. It's getting harder and harder to ignore as the week winds down. I've scheduled a massage and a facial for the mid-morning, and am hoping a spa day will keep me from spending the day in tears.

And of course, everywhere I look or listen...babies. A friend at work is beginning is 38th week tomorrow. Another friend just found out she's having a boy. Did you hear Nicole Richie had her baby today? Even on ESPN, there's talk of Mrs. Tom Brady and her impending bundle of joy.

And another thing! Really, do I really need to hear all these mothers lament that their babies are starting [insert grade here], oh where does the time go, I can't believe my baby is that big, only yesterday, blah blah blah. Fuck you. That's what I wanted to say after the umpteenth post on Facebook in the last two days.

I know it's probably always been like this, and I'm just more sensitive to it. It just sucks. It really does.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Wednesday night, my first night at home. I was laying in bed watching the Yankees game and the phone beeped. J's text ring. I thought about not responding. But I did.

It was innocent enough at first, what are you doing, how was Philly. He was in St. Louis, on business with one of his clients, and I said, "so that's why I didn't get invited because he's with you."

"Yea, clearly I didn't think that through. Up for a chat later?"

"Sure, call me when you're back to your hotel room."

He continued to text silly things from the bar, and then finally called about midnight or 12:30. We talked about his trip to Philly and then he asked what I'd be doing if I was in St. Louis.

"Well...I would have been banished to the room, so I'd be doing pretty much what I'm doing now. Laying on the bed in a Yankees t-shirt and nothing else, waiting for you."

And then it started. I'll spare you the details. When it was over, he asked how my trip to Baltimore was. I told him about the development position, and he played devil's advocate and actually gave me really good advice on how to think it all through. He asked what was next with the baby stuff, and I got a little teary. I explained where things were.

Just as we were about to hang up, I stopped him. "I need to say something, and I'm not sure how to say it. I've been looking for a good segue the whole conversation, and it never happened."

"Go on."

"This is never going to happen, is it?"

"Sure it will."

"No it won't. I'm not trying to lead you down some path of sin, just following your cues and leads, but you're never going to follow through are you."

He took a deep breath. "No. I'm sorry. It's a line I can't cross."

"I knew that, but I needed to hear you say it."

"I hope you're not insulted."

"Insulted? No. Feel a little foolish? Yea."

"I'm sorry. I love my family...and I don't want to risk..."

"I know. And I respect that. And I'm glad you feel that way. But if that's crossing a line, then what we just did does too. I'm sure your wife wouldn't understand that."

"I know, I know. I don't know how I've rationalized it my head that this is okay and that's not."

"Well, if you're not willing to cross that line, we can't ever cross this one again. I want you in my life, in my corner. I always want you as my friend, but...."

"Ellie, you know how much you mean to me. I wouldn't ever not want you in my life, but I can't....and you're right, we shouldn't...."

And so just like that, I broke up with J. It felt sad and empowering all at the same time. It was 1:30am and I was exhausted. Thought about calling Bubbles, but figured that no one else needed to be up thinking about this right now.

Between the negative test two weeks earlier, and driving to Richmond, Baltimore and home, Tim's holy spirit talk, and now this with J...I just wanted sleep. I hoped for a peaceful sleep, and actually got it. I woke up at 9:30, when my cell phone rang. A friend from college, who is a corporate recruiter, calling about a job possibility in Tupilo, Mississippi. Oh lord.

Back from Vacation

I've been on vacation, and technically still am until the day after Labor Day. I left last Thursday for Richmond and arrived in time to spend the afternoon laying by the pool in 95-degree weather. It was heavenly.

And I did what I wanted. I didn't have to think. Didn't have to explain anything. There was no baby talk, no decision making. It was just vacation. Pool, shopping, dinner with a friend from college, the beach, shopping, pool. It couldn't have gotten better.

I headed up to Baltimore on Sunday and spent two days with my friend Tim and Sonya. You may remember that Tim and I had some issues last summer. We have since moved past it. Sunday night he worked, so I spent the evening with his wife and kids. Monday, his wife and I went shopping and then we all went out to lunch.

And then Monday night, I got to see my Yankees. I visited friends in the press box and was in my seat in time for the first pitch. Lots of beers and an almost perfect game later (a real perfect game, not just that it was a lovely evening), Mariano came in in the bottom of the 9th and the game was over. Yankees win.

I had my cell phone in my pocket and was updating my FB with pictures and texts from the game. In the middle of the 4th, as I was checking a text from J, I got one from E. When it rains, it pours.

J wanted to know if we could change breakfast the next day from 9 to 9:30. No problem. And E wanted to know how my day was. I told him, better now. And asked if he liked the picture I had sent him the other night (from my soak in the tub). He loved it.

At one point during the game, Tim put his arm around me and thanked him for being such a good "aunt lulu" to his girls. I told him I loved, and Sonya (his wife), that they were all like family. And then he brought up the night of out minor indiscretion, many years ago. "We're not talking about that. I still feel guilty that I let it go as far as it did. I'm just glad, we stopped."

"You know, Lulu, that night wasn't an accident." WTF? I couldn't comprehend that. I looked at the field and made a comment about Derek Jeter's ass or something.

After the game, Tim and I went to bar near the museum for another round, and I desperately needed food. E texted again to see if I enjoyed the game (he had seen that it was a near-perfect game) and J texted to tell me that he needed to cancel, had to go to Philly for the day. Was I surprised? Of course not. Disappointed? Unfortunately a little. Especially after he had texted earlier to confirm (without any prompting from me)and change times. Tim saw that I was annoyed, but didn't say anything.

It was all of midnight when we headed out. And then it started. Although, at first, I didn't realize where the conversation was headed. He started off by telling me that he's in a men's prayer group and that he has me on his list of people they pray for. I told him I appreciated that. And I told him my story about how I was in church one day, thinking about J and E texted.

We were sharing, it felt appropriate. In hindsight, I should have kept my mouth shut. Because then he started talking about how he prays for me to find my way, that I need to open my heart up to Jesus, that all the pain and loss I've experienced over the past two years are because I don't have a relationship with God.

Let me remind you of my mindset -- I'm over-tired, I'm drunk, I haven't really let loose with crying over the last negative test. Until right now. I sat in his car, tears rolling down my face, trying to catch my breath.

At this point, we were home, in the driveway. I wasn't responding to anything he was saying. Something about feeling the holy spirit in him and praying for me to find my way, to find someone to share my life and my faith with, that if he wasn't married that he would like to get to know me on a more spiritual level, that he's upset that I have such feelings for J, that I would be upset over a canceled breakfast, that he didn't realize I had feelings for him still. On and on about my life, and what I'm doing and how he feels about it.

I was done. "I need to go to bed." I got out of the car, waited for him to unlock the door and walked past him to the girls' room where I was sleeping. I went into the bathroom, blowing my nose and trying to stop crying. I heard him walk down the hall in my direction. And he walked right into the bathroom.

He hugged me and I pulled away. "You have no fucking clue what I've been through for the past two years. Acupuncture, fertility massages, yoga, driving to Syracuse every two days, giving myself shots until I'm black and blue all over my stomach, church every week, prayer, meditation, visualization, not eating ice cream so that god forbid my uterus isn't warm enough, drinking black-fucking-strap molasses every morning...and for you to tell me that I didn't do enough, that I needed to open myself up to God. Is that why you think I didn't get pregnant? Fuck you."

"No, that's not what I meant."

"Well, that's how I took it. I need to go to bed."

He hugged me again, and I let him. It was just easier. I needed to go to bed. And this seemed like the only way to get rid of him. He finally left and I fell into a fitful sleep. At least I was leaving their house in the morning and I could get some space from him.

I acted as if nothing happened in the morning. And once the girls left for school, I finished packing my bag and did my hair. With breakfast canceled, I had some time to kill before heading downtown, but I figured I would kill it somewhere else.

As I was straightening my hair, I heard my phone beep. It was a text from Tim in the other room. Some more mumbo jumbo about opening my heart, etc. I closed the phone. And then another about how I'm better than J, and I need to move one from him. I closed the phone again, packed up and left.

I haven't heard from him since then, but I'm guessing that in the next week or two, he will dig it all up. I hope I'm wrong about that.

I visited my old work, caught up with everyone there, even got recruited to apply for Bitch-stine's old job at the museum. It's an interesting prospect, and I'm going to humor them by asking some questions, but I don't think that's the right place for me right now.

I had lunch with Bubbles and filled her in on the last four days. I miss seeing her like this. To be closer to friends like her, moving back to Baltimore would be great.

After leaving downtown, I went to my friend Wanda's house. We've been friends since the mid-90s and it would be nice to be able to talk about the baby stuff with her, to get her perspective on what I should do, as well as the job stuff.

It didn't happen, and that along with the way things ended with Tim, really put a damper on the Baltimore part of my trip. When I got there, we had a snack with her five-year-old, and then took both kids to the playground, meeting one of her neighbors there. There was never a time for the two of us to talk. By the time we got home, her husband was home, it was dinner, getting the kids ready for bed and then the three of us watched TV and went to bed.

I was bummed. And it made me put into perspective the way life is for my friends who have families -- that sometimes, there is no time for my needs. Even a half hour or so of one-on-one time.

Vacation, Finally.

I leave for Richmond tomorrow, and I'll be in Baltimore on Sunday. I'll have family, friends and baseball over the course of the next week. Hopefully I'll reach some sort of decision and peace.

I went to the gym tonight. It opened today, and it was hard. My skin itched from being that sweaty for the first time in months. But it felt good. Three miles down. A good start for getting the baby weight off.

A Lot to Think About

I went up to Syracuse on Wednesday to meet with FG. He told me that, given my age, the number of cycles I've done, and the dosage I've been on, I have less than a 5% chance of getting pregnant with my own eggs. I can't even comprehend or articulate the level of disappointment I felt when I heard that.

So what, if any, are my options?

If I go with an egg donor, I have a 65% chance of getting pregnant and a 50% chance of staying pregnant (about the same as a person with no medical issues getting pregnant the traditional way) and a 95% of becoming a mom through adoption.

I cried, and he hugged, and he said all the things he says. "You couldn't have done anything more than you did. This isn't about what you did or didn't do. It's your eggs. And they may have been like this for years. You didn't wait too long. Everything is going to work out the way that it's supposed to."

I told him I was open to an egg donor, but that the $11,000 was out of my price range. And that's when he said, I have options and he had the egg donor coordinator come in and talk to me.

They have a program where two women share the same donor. The cost is $6200, and they would bill my insurance for the transfer. I have $1154 left of fertility coverage. So basically, an option, without my own eggs, very close to the $5000 number I through out at lunch the other day. So close in fact that is $5000.

I told her I was going on vacation and would give her a call when I get back. I think I know what I'm doing, but I have doubts every once in a while. And so I'm taking time to think, to figure it out. To come up with questions and wait for answers.

The Word of the Day is Negative

So apparently driving up to Syracuse, to mix things up, for my blood test did not offer any different result. They called me about 9:45 and said the test was negative. I immediately made an appointment with the Fertility Guru for a consult. It's tomorrow at 2:30.

I'm not sure what I'm hoping to hear, but I'm still hopeful he'll have something to tell me. Twelve times, with medical and medicinal intervention, I tried to get pregnant. Once it worked for a few days. Once it worked for less than two months. And 10 times, it just didn't work. Clearly, there is something wrong with my body. My eggs.

I know that sometimes people donate their embryos, or even their eggs (beyond the egg donor for money program). One of his nurses told me that she got pregnant using donated sperm that a couple had purchased and then realized they couldn't go through with it. Where's that kind of intervention for me? It can't hurt to ask.

The egg donor program (from which my favorite nurse has 21-month-old twins) is $11,000. I can't shell out that kind of money for not a 100% guarantee that I will get and stay pregnant. It's $6,000 if I use an egg donor that's a friend or family member. I went down that path last year. Other than my friend that offered and then backed out and my niece (who has her own medical issues and probably wouldn't be able to do it), I can't think of anyone I would ask. It's a huge decision. Both of these people offered.

The ironic thing is, as we were talking about it at lunch today, if FG could make something work somehow, I would be willing to spend $5,000 out of pocket (for anything not using my own egg). So close to the $6,000 if I had my own egg donor.

And so I'm back to not knowing what to do next. I'm hoping that, if nothing else, the consult tomorrow will give me some closure so that I'll be able to move on to the next plan and have peace with whatever that decision is.

My friend April, who went through her own fertility treatment and is currently pregnant, is going with me tomorrow. I'll need support, and I'll need someone who can help me ask the tough questions.

I guess if I get nothing but closure tomorrow, I will make an appointment with my adoption social worker (who has all of the first part of the process completed) and really look at the costs. I'll follow up on the two possibly not wanted pregnancies that I know of (friend of a friend of a friend sort of thing). And I'll follow up with my mother's priest who is looking into a private adoption from Nigeria (his home country).

Weirdness

I've been having some weird sensations, and I'm trying not to read into them. I had some twinges the other day (less than any other month) and then on Saturday, twice, a weird, intense, stabbing pain -- that went just as quickly as it came. Tonight, a different ache (?) that went from my uterus down into my cervix. Again, it was quick. And then it was gone.

Sometimes they take my breath away, sometimes I'm doubled over. Not in agony, more in surprise by the feeling. I'm taking this all as a good thing.

I talked to Bubbles today, who had some words of wisdom for my about my experience with the pregnant woman yesterday. "She's the one who was meant for that baby. Your baby will come on a different day."

It made me feel better. A little.

Still

Not sure what I'm feeling, trying not to think too much. For the first time in a few days, or the first time I really payed attention, I felt some twinges yesterday. And twice, I felt a sharp, quick pain in my uterus. No idea what it was, what it means.

Just a couple more days of waiting, and I go back to work tomorrow, so hopefully that will keep my mind off of things.

I went to my friend's baby's baptism this morning. I detest going to things like this as a single person. I would be so much more interesting if I had a pregnancy to talk about. Oh but, I did. Just not mine. There were lots of babies there. And a pregnant woman. Who's due date was my old due date.

I was fine through church and almost all of brunch, and then I just needed to leave. I teared up a little as I was leaving. Heather's mother gave me a hug and wished me luck on Tuesday. That was the tipping point. I just needed to come home and relax and not be with people.

I know I owe my friend Jan in Baltimore a phone call. But I can't do it. I don't want to talk about it. Last I talked to her, I was getting ready for retrieval. I can't go into the last two weeks, and my emotions, and what happens if... I just can't do it.

So the agenda for tonight -- a cold shower (summer has FINALLY arrived in Ithaca), my meditation CD, and bed. And hopefully, I can sleep.

Limbo

I'm in that limbo spot -- well past the transfer and the need to treat my body so delicately, but still six days from the blood test. I'm almost indifferent but I know that as each day ticks away, my mood will change. Fear will creep in.

I'm trying not to over-analyze if it goes the wrong way. What's meant to be will be, right? So if I' not, what does that mean?

I'm also trying not to look into too many signs. But lately, they've been hard to ignore.

Friday....it was the Family Guy episode where Peter goes to the sperm bank
Saturday....Law & Order with murder at a cryogenic lab and a court fight over frozen embryos
Monday....the Golden Girls and Blanche's daughter getting artificially inseminated
Tuesday...a ladybug (for good luck) in my bedroom

Who knows what tonight will bring?

Yes, I really eat m&m's like this

A Whirlwind Week in Review

Monday...awake for about three hours in the middle of the night, at work by 6:30am, head to Syracuse at 7:45 for a 9am fertility massage.

Tuesday...awake on and off, thinking about this being the last attempt, finally up at 5am. Jill picked me up at 6am and we headed to Syracuse for the retrieval. This was her first time doing this procedure with me. It was interesting to hear her describe it to me -- how FG pushed down on my stomach, how I was wincing in pain even as I was totally unaware of it, and how he used 10 to 15 giant Q-tips to stop the bleeding.

They were able to get five eggs. Respectable, I guess, at this stage in the game. I did acupuncture after the retrieval and rested at home the remainder of the day. I had things piled up on the DVR specifically for this.

Wednesday...awake since 2am. The day was going to be interesting, for sure. I got a call from the FG's office about 8:30. They injected three of the five eggs, and two became embryos. I was a little disappointed in the number, but tried to be positive that I only really needed one.

And then the kicker, "transfer is tomorrow." What? I was thinking Friday. Three to five days from retrieval would be Friday or Saturday. Bubbles was driving up from Baltimore on Thursday. I called her immediately and sounded the alarm. "I'll be there tonight."

I'm a planner. I had two full days worth of meetings on Wednesday and Thursday. I canceled my Wednesday morning meeting, pushing it off until next week. And did what I could for the rest of the day. Heather bought me a regular Pepsi (at this point, I'm off the artificial sweeteners, so no diet) at lunch, which helped me get through the afternoon.

I did a Wegmans run and $100 later (food to lay around and percolate to in the next two days) came home to clean the house. I managed to sit about 9pm, running on fumes at this point. Bubbles arrived about 9:45. And at that point, I was able to relax.

Thursday...I slept better last night, and was up at 6:15am to shower and be ready to leave by 7am. At Bubbles' suggestion, I made myself a mimosa. Her theory? Drunk girls always get pregnant. So one mimosa down and another in the travel mug, we headed to Syracuse.

FG came in with a picture of "two awesome, amazing and beautiful embryos" and as he inserted them into my uterus, Bubbles talked to them. Telling them to hang on, that we loved them, that we've been waiting for them for so long, that she's going to spoil them, and all sorts of amazing things. I was laying there, watching on the ultrasound screen through my tears and hoping with everything I have that they were paying attention and would listen to their Aunt Bubbles.

After acupuncture, we were back home. I napped on and off all afternoon, while Bubbles watched the entire third season of The Tudors on OnDemand. And by the time I was ready to head up to bed, Jane Seymour and Thomas Cromwell were dead, Anne of Cleves was now Henry's "sister," and the king was seducing his soon-to-be fifth wife.

Friday....another relaxing day, though we did venture outside. We met Jill for brunch and then wandered to Target and Kohl's. The rest of the day was spent much like the day before. I rested and allowed the embryos lots of quiet time to do their thing.

And so the week in review, not a lot of sleeping at the beginning, and then not a lot of much else at the end. And two awesome, amazing and beautiful embryos hunkering down into a lining almost 12mm thick.

Pheromones

Pheromones are released when a woman is close to ovulation to attract the man. Women are also hornier at this time of the month. Apparently my pheromones are strong enough to cross state lines.

I have heard from E four times in less than a week. This morning, he texted just as I was pulling up for my massage. I told him I was going into a meeting. He texted again tonight, curious and asking lots of questions about me. All dirty, of course.

And then Chris called again. He wants me to fly out to California and visit him next month. Better yet, he says, let's meet in Vegas for a long weekend.

I emailed Bubbles about it. Her response. "Wooo...what the hell do you have down there?" And of course, they are all coming out of the wood work just as I'm about to go on the DL.

Where was even one of them two weeks ago when I we could plan something? But I can't think about any of them right now.

I have my retrieval tomorrow, and that is what I need to focus on. Wish me luck.

Worlds Colliding

I had a good doctor's appointment yesterday, with several follicles on the low 20s. Tonight is my last night of "jiffy pop" medicine, tomorrow I do the trigger shots at exactly 8pm, Monday morning I have a final fertility massage scheduled, and then Tuesday, Jill is taking me up to Syracuse for retrieval. The final retrieval.

Bubbles will be heading up from Baltimore on Thursday to take me to the transfer, which should be Friday (could be Saturday). She has been saying for two years that I need to go to the doctor drunk on procedure day. "Cuz drunk girls always get pregnant."

I'm giving in. She's bringing a split of champagne, and I will be drinking mimosas in my travel coffee mug. I figure one will get me buzzed, considering I haven't had a drink in several months and haven't gotten properly drunk since Babe's birthday in February.

Even though I heard everything I wanted to do at my appointment, I couldn't shake an image out of me head. Of me pulling up to my brother's house in Richmond, and collapsing in tears in my sister-in-law's arms. I'll be headed there at the end of the month, and I pray that that image doesn't come true.

My eyes kept tearing up, I turned the radio up louder, turned music on, trying to sing along. Nothing could get that image out of my head. Finally, I turned my yoga CD on and listened to the chanting and prayer in that music. It helped a little.

~~~

E was on the air yesterday, and just as I pulled up the webcam, Chris called. It was very strange hearing both of their voices at the same time, hearing Chris talk to me while I watched E. I had to minimize the screen and turn down the volume. It really freaked me out, more than any other time any of my boys have overlapped.

I've stuck to my promise and haven't talked to J. Well, his dog has bone cancer, so I wrote something on his facebook wall about the dog, and the dog only.

I tweeted last night, something to the effect of "yea, the weekend is here" and he responded to that "don't get in trouble, ellie."

I'm happy to say, I totally ignored it. Thought once about responding and closed my computer. He might almost be dead to me.

Of course that's easy to say now, when I've got Chris and E calling, and I'm full of optimism and doing the right thing (for Karma purposes) so that I can get knocked up. But more than ever before, I feel like this time, it's going to stick with J. It will only be professional and platonic.

Chris? Let me work on one at a time.

It's Hump Day....

to quote a morning radio DJ from my Rochester days, "and later we will."

It's been such a busy week already, I'm looking forward to the weekend. I had my follicle check this morning and things are looking really good. It's hard to see how many follicles are growing, they are all stacking on top of each other at this point, but the lead follicle is 18mm and my lining is great (almost 12mm, which is really the max that it gets). The nurse is guessing Monday for retrieval, but we'll know on Friday when I go back.

Bubbles is hopefully coming up from Baltimore for the transfer. I saw her the day after the transfer the time I got pregnant and she talked to my belly. Maybe if she talks to the embryos pre-utero, they'll stick around a little more.

Triple Play

I've resigned myself, I'm about 98.9% sure that I'm done with J. And I feel good about that. I'm waiting, though not the losing sleep kind of waiting, for him to be in touch. So I can say "oh, are you calling with a day and place for us to meet. Because if you're not, we've got nothing to talk about."

And I've realized that I'm not mad at him. I'm mad at myself. Mad for allowing him to make me feel so foolish over him. Mad for allowing me to not see what he was trying to tell me with his lack of action. But I get it now. If he wanted it to happen, if he really wanted to see me, I've made it more than easy for him to make it happen.

I texted with E yesterday and felt happy to have heard from him. Before yesterday, our last exchange was about two weeks ago. He had been talking on air about the advice he gave one of his producers about what to expect from marriage. He likened it to eating healthy for the rest of his life -- he'd feel better, he'd look better, he'd sleep better, but he could never have another cupcake again.

I texted him and asked if I was supposed to be the cupcake. He answered back, almost immediately, that yes I was and to get my ass to Connecticut so he could lick every inch of me. I giggled but didn't respond back. I left it at that. Bubbles has taught me well about how to keep the power in the texting and calling relationship. I kept the power, and there he was four beeping me yesterday morning.

And then all of that power, all of that "I am in control of my life and my feelings" went out the window this morning. One little phone call. A 315 (Syracuse) area code on my phone. "This is Ellie."

"Hey now." Chris. And I melted. I'd been thinking about him lately. (His birthday is at the end of the week.) But I didn't realize the effect he still has on me. He makes me happy. He's familiar. And safe. And yes, unavailable. But he cares about me. And he knows me. I don't have to be on my "best" behavior around him.

Amazing, how after all this time, that guy in the Irish bar from January 2003....it still comes back to him.

Weekend Update

It was a fun weekend, and I wish I didn't have such a busy, Syracuse-filled week ahead, but alas I do. Doctor appointments Monday and Wednesday morning, yoga Tuesday night, and thankfully not a lot of meetings.

My follicle check went well on Friday -- there are anywhere between 5 and 8 follicles, with the lead one at 13mm. Slow and steady wins the race. My best guess is that retrieval will be next Monday or Tuesday, with transfer on Friday the 7th. Which also means that I will be getting my test results very close to the exact date of my first IUI two years ago (August 23). Win or lose, it will all come full circle. And win or lose, I'll be heading south at the end of August.

I had another fertility massage yesterday, this time with yet another person. She wasn't trained in the Mayan abdominal techniques that I had been getting, but she did some work on my stomach and pressure points. It was more relaxing than the other two, so even if it wasn't entirely focused on my reproductive organs, it was a stress-reliever. I think I'll be able to fit one more in before retrieval.

I stayed in Syracuse last night and went to the Chiefs (triple-A affiliate of the Nationals) game with my niece, her husband and their two boys. And then this morning, as I was driving home, I heard the familiar four beeps of my cell phone. E. :)

Some dirty texting back and forth as I was driving (oops) and he wants to pick a date soon for us. I'm guessing I won't be able to fit him in before the retrieval, so once again he will be my consolation prize to look forward to.

It's Almost Friday

The week got better, although there was another incident with Casey on Tuesday night, but she was good last night.

I had a follicle check yesterday and I had six follicles, possibly a seventh. The lead follicle is 12mm. I ordered the baby batter yesterday (it will arrive Monday) and I go back for another ultrasound tomorrow.

I'm guessing retrieval next Friday at the earliest. Stay tuned.

Monday Sucked

The day started out fine, if not a little early. I was up at 5:15am, jumped in the shower and got dressed, fed my neighbors cats (a more-complex-then-usual task since her cats eat different things and I have to lock one in the bathroom to eat and then wait), and was on the road by 6:15 for Syracuse.

My follicle check went well. I had my favorite NP and I have at least three follicles on the left, and five on the right. Whoo-hoo. Keep growing, little follicles. I went to Skaneateles, a beautiful little resort village on one of the Finger Lakes to spend the day at my friend Jenn's house, since I would be going back to the FG's office later in the day.

We played with the kids in the backyard, fed them lunch, and then left them with her husband while we walked around the village and got lunch. Then back to her house to sit by the pool.

About 5pm, I headed back to Syracuse for my first support group meeting. I wasn't sure what to expect, and there were lots of people there that it was their first time, too. Overall, there were about 25 people there (including three husbands). Everyone went around the room and told their story.

I would have expected that to be cathartic. And I'm not sure why the meeting, overall, wasn't. All the sad stories, all the failures should have made me feel like I'm not in it alone, but I think they gave me a hopeless feeling.

trying for three years....trying for five years...miscarriage with twins at 10 weeks...premenopausal at 35...miscarriage at 7 weeks....ready to give up...

Maybe I'm just tired. Like two years worth of tired. I'm tired of talking and rehashing what more we can all do.

Acupuncture. Yoga. Massage. Stress relievers. Meditation. Support groups. Support forums. Therapy. I'm doing all of that. And then we hear -- in the support group and in yoga -- Don't watch TV or read the news -- nothing but negative energy. Read positive books.

And then there's the information that contradicts each other. Don't eat ice cream -- you need to keep your uterus warm. Eat full fat dairy -- it's good for conception.

I've said it before, but I feel like I want to scream it from a mountain top -- it shouldn't be this hard. If it's this hard to reproduce, how did man get this far?

FG said something at the meeting that I took to heart, and I'm sure he meant it in a positive way, because he is nothing if not positive, but he said "none of us is promised anything in life."

And he's right. But is it too much to expect that if I don't get the husband, I can have the baby?

I drove home with a pounding headache, knowing I had to stop at Kohl's to buy a new hair straightener (I noticed in the morning that mine was most likely a fire hazard with frayed cord showing), still feed the neighbor's cats and do my shots and medicine.

If Casey pooped on the floor, I think I might lose it. (My 13-year-old cat has irritable bowel syndrome and sometimes doesn't make it to the litter box or starts there, it hurts and she jumps out. Fortunately, her messes are contained to one room 99% of the time, and she's only ruined the rug in her room.)

I went to Kohl's, the headache is now an 8 on a scale of 1 to 10. Go home, take my shot out of the fridge to warm up, go over to Lynne's to feed the cats. Get the mail while the one cat is eating locked up, go back in and let her out. Go home, do my shot, take my meds. Grab something little to eat, check my email and calendar for today. At this point, it's 9pm and my headache is closing in on a 9. Someone is pressing their thumbs into both of my eyes and has a vice around my head.

I go upstairs and see a pile of poo on the floor, a smaller dropping about three feet away, and a little in my room. I start sobbing, not doing any wonders for my headache. Bending over to clean up the floor makes my head explode. I cry harder. I look at the rug shampooer that I leave in Casey's room for nights like this, and lose it. I sit on a stool and sob into my knees.

I clean up the best I can, pour Nature's Miracle on all the spots and cover them with hand towels so I know where they are. Contacts out, Yankees t-shirt on, 800 mg of Ibuprofin, and the lights off. I hold my head, trying to relieve the pressure and fall asleep.

I want a boy to make the decision of what to do with Casey. I want a boy to rub my head and tell me it's okay. To tell me that we're in this together and one way or another, there will be a crib in that other room (once we tear up the poopy carpet). That's all I want as I try not to cry, lest my head actually explode.

It's what I want. And then I remember the FG's words....none of us is promised anything.

It's Time

I went to the doctor this morning and I'm ready. I start shooting up tonight -- 450 units of Gonal-F and go back on Monday. No Lupron this time, I will start on the Ganirelix towards the middle of next week.

I have follicle checks on Monday, Wednesday and Friday next week. So the continuous driving to Syracuse and back starts up again. I'm feeling positive and hopeful.

College Revisited

During my senior year of college, I had two best girl friends, but mostly aligned myself with my guy friends. I learned early on that three girls are trouble. There is always drama, there is always a power struggle, and there is never equal love between the three. Somehow, someway, some variation of two are closer than any other. It's just the way it works.

When I graduated from college and one of these girls got married, I let the inevitable happen and drifted apart from the friendship. It was easier. I never missed the drama, never regretted not keeping in touch with them.

Fifteen years later, Facebook has brought them back into my life, for better or worse. I've kept them at arm's length, exchanging pleasantries, catching up on the last 15 years, and then really not much beyond that. We have our own lives, own priorities, and have, I'm assuming, replaced each other with new friends.

One of the ways I use Facebook with my immediate circle of friends is to keep them updated on doctor appointments and there I am in my current schedule. I keep my status updates pretty vague -- those in the know get it, those who don't know, have no clue.

Recently one of these girls from college sent me an email asking if everything was okay (she'd probably noticed some posts on my FB page that said "sending good thoughts" or something like that), that she was concerned, etc. The email sounded sincere. And if....no, when I get pregnant next month, it will only be a matter of time before I announce it. So I thought about it for a day about how I should answer her.

And finally I just decided to tell her. I told her I'd been trying to get pregnant for the past two-plus years, that all the trips to Syracuse were doctor appointments, this was my last attempt, etc. Not overly dramatic, not a lot of emotional sharing, but still clear that these two years have not been the easiest. And I thanked her for her concern.

And then? Nothing from her. Not a single word. I've seen that she's been on Facebook. Clearly she's read it. And while I had hoped that we've all matured in the past 15 years, the insecure part of me wonders if she is now taking this information and talking it over with the other friend from college.

I told Hope about it today. She told me I have too much faith in people, think too highly their motives and their sincerity, that I should have gone with my gut and my last opinion of her. Should have told her thanks for your concern, everything's okay -- and left it at that.

I should have.

The First of the Last

After three weeks on the pill, I was finally able to go back to the doctor this morning. My first appointment of the last round of IVF.

My left uterus -- usually hiding behind my colon and bladder -- was actually behind my uterus. So maybe these massage techniques have been doing something positive. My lining was about 7 or 8 mm thick -- too thick to start the meds tonight. If I started tonight, they're concerned that I won't shed it all when I get my period. So I will call in the next day or two and should be shooting up by the end of the week.

The good news -- Ally found 10 or 11 resting follicles. I have no idea how many I've had in the past, no one has ever told me. But she seemed genuinely excited about it. "We've got to make this month work." And it was nice to hear from her that she's in it with me. Even when she walked in the room, she said she had been thinking of me that morning, knowing that my three weeks were up and I would be in.

After my appointment, I went next door and had my second fertility massage, this time from someone I went to high school with. At first that was a little strange, but she was ultra-professional and was even better than the man I had last week. I liked her technique much better, even though there was some pain involved.

Pain is strong. Discomfort is more like it. I'm willing to do whatever it takes. As I was laying there, I just kept thinking, "suck it up. child birth is going to hurt more."

I hope so.

Fertility Massage

One of the best parts of a massage is that you're laying on your stomach, hiding the less-than-perfect parts of yourself, exposing your back and getting it rubbed. Fertility massage? Not so much.

I started on my back and he rubbed my stomach. Nothing relaxing about it. He was really digging in, increasing blood flow and circulation to my uterus, and all I could think about was what my stomach looked like after two years of my body getting ready to be pregnant.

And then I realized I was being stupid. At this point, modesty needs to go out the window. And I just need to suck it up and do whatever it takes. He pulled down from my belly button to just above my pubic bone and then over to each pelvic bone. And then pushed up from the belly button in three directions. He rubbed my stomach in a circle, really pushing into it and moving things around. He covered it with a heating pad and then used pressure points (probably the same places I have needles when I get acupuncture) on my neck, shoulders and head.

He did deep pressure circulation stuff on my back too. Really deep. Almost to the point where it hurt. And then I think as just a way to throw me a bone, he rubbed the calves and feet for a few minutes.

Not the usual massage, but very interesting. I have to do the same type of massage on my stomach every night and use a heating pad. And I go back on Monday for another massage after my doctor's appointment. He suggested I continue to be treated with a massage each week up until transfer.

I Applaud Red Sox Nation

Yea, even me.

My Mood is Better

I'm still on the pill for one more week, but I'm feeling less weepy than even two days ago. I made it through the weekend with little drama.

My niece had her baby yesterday -- a little girl. I'm not sure exactly how to feel about this. I know how I'm supposed to feel, I know how I expected to feel. Mostly I'm indifferent and feel nothing.

I got an email from my sister (her mother) first and then from my niece herself with pictures. In neither email was my brother copied (remember the family drama from last summer). So much for my sister saying that it was all done, move on, no hard feelings, etc.

I think that pissed me off more than feeling sorry for myself that she had a baby. Thanksgiving should be interesting when the Virginia relatives (those who were not invited to the wedding) come home.

And so even with the family drama, and the baby being born, I'm feeling okay. I've got a fertility massage scheduled before yoga on Tuesday. What's a fertility massage? My cynical side says one more way for the FG to make money.

Officially, the website says: A rejuvenating and nurturing treatment utilizing a variety of techniques including Swedish, deep tissue, trigger point therapy, myofascial release, reflexology and cranial sacral. Stimulate your circulation, decrease muscle tension, and renew your well-being. This massage is designed for pre fertility treatment.

I have one scheduled for the following week, as well. No one can tell me that I'm not doing all I can to try to get pregnant.

A "When Harry Met Sally" Lesson

Marie: I don't think he's every going to leave her.
Sally: I know he's never going to leave her.
Marie: You're right, you're right. I know you're right.

The Pill is the Culprit

I'm so glad that I'm neurotic (or anal?) to write everything down. I looked back at my posts the last time I was on the pill. Of course, when I first reread them, it was a good thing because I got pregnant on the cycle following being on the pill.

What I didn't notice was my mood while I was on the pill. I was miserable. And not sad for a little while, but several days on end, miserable. About a week into being on the pill, I was an emotional wreck. Every little thing bothered me.

Fast forward to this month. About a week into being on the pill, the same thing. Last time I was only on for two weeks, this time for three. Should make for fun times.

On a Silver Fucking Platter

I'm an idiot. Go ahead. I know I am.

Last week, after I got back from the doctor, after knowing I had a three-week break from shots and ultrasounds and appointments and blood work, I said I was hoping to see E or J, or both.

And what did I do? I emailed J and said, "If I were to drive to York, or somewhere in that vicinity for an afternoon, would you make it worth my while? I've got three weeks before I start the next cycle."

York is four hours from me, 45 minutes from him. Could I be making it any easier for him?

He emailed me back, almost immediately. "Very interesting. Let me check my schedule."

I resisted the urge to respond to him. And I've resisted the urge to write back to him this week.

This is it. I promise. If I hear nothing back from him, even to say, tempting as it sounds, I'm too busy....he's cut off. Done. No more stroking his ego. No more texts. No more dirty pictures. No more naughty phone calls.

And you can hold me to it.

Cranky Monday

And I'm not sure why. I feel like crying. Or going back to sleep. When really what I want is to feel like working out.

I had a good weekend. I went to Syracuse and spent the night at my niece's. Yesterday was Andrew's 2nd birthday party.

I had been anxious about it earlier in the week, that my oldest sister would be there and I would have to hear about her daughter, who is due to give birth in the next two weeks. I think I've forgiven her insensitivity in how she told me she was pregnant, but I can't forget. And to hear people go on and on about it -- I wasn't in the mood. I found out Saturday night that she wouldn't be coming. She had to work all day on Saturday.

Maybe it was, not just being around little kids, but actually celebrating the anniversary of his birth. It could be that or it could be something totally unrelated. Like I'm just tired. Or my hormones are out of whack -- though I have been living with that for the past two years.

I feel like I did last summer when I thought an egg donor was my only option. My mind is swimming with all sorts of things and what if's. What if there is a better chance to get pregnant with an egg donor than with my own egg. Should I have just gone with an egg donor last summer, instead of wasting the time and money on trying to get pregnant on my own? Or should I have just given up and saved since last year and gone ahead with adoption? Should I try with an egg donor after my final IVF?

I don't know how productive of a day it will be at work today. I should have called in sick.

"Donna Does Wonders with the Probe"

I managed to get a doctor's appointment this morning, and so at 8:45, Hope, Heather and I took a "staff field trip" to the doctor's office. (The only thing missing was Nancy.)

We came up with a list of questions in the car, and I told them that what I'm not good at, what I really needed them from them, was the follow-up. Once I ask the question and get an answer, I'm not good at saying, "but what else?" or "but what about...?" They were both up to the task.

The FG's office was hopping when we got there. I leaned over to Hope and said, so which one of you is my lesbian lover and which is the egg donor. (Because really, what else would three women be doing at the fertility doctor?) She sized up me and Heather with our matching Vera Bradley purses and said, "ummm....she's more like you, she's your egg donor." To which Heather replied, "she wants to be your lover."

When I was finally called back for my baseline U/S, the nurse was a little surprised at our little conga line. "They're both coming back?"

When the nurse practitioner came in to the ultrasound, they started asking their questions. The NP -- new to the practice -- didn't have all the answers, but said she would bring Donna in when we were done. And then she couldn't find my left ovary, which has been known to hide. "Stay undressed, I'll get Donna and see if she can find your left ovary. She does wonders with the probe."

Donna came in, immediately found my left ovary, and then sat there while the girls peppered her with questions. At this point, Donna was saying that there were some residual cysts left over from last month, but we could still go ahead, to start the meds tonight and be back on Friday for a follicle check.

Hope and Heather weren't ready to accept that that was the best thing for me. The most impactful question, and I think it was from Hope, "if she got pregnant in December, why wouldn't you try to do the cycle the exact same way? Why increase her dosage so much, why add a new medicine to the mix? Especially when using more medicine didn't seem to create a better quality or quantity of eggs?"

Donna thought about it for a minute and then said, "Well the cysts are a little bigger than I would like." She looked at me, "what if we put you on the pill for three weeks to suppress ovulation, let your cysts go away, and we'll start up on July 13 with just the Gonal-F?"

It felt like a weight off my shoulders. And in thinking about it, that was the way the cycle worked when I got pregnant. I was on the pill for two weeks to manipulate my cycle so that we could fit it in before Christmas. So this isn't a bad thing, it can only be a good thing.

And if I can fit in a visit or two with E or J (or dare I say both?) in the next three weeks, all the better.

And so I went back to the gym tonight for the first time in five weeks. I lasted about half hour on the treadmill. It was a start. I'll give myself this week to get my endurance back up and then start running next week.

Today was a better day than Friday. At least we're moving in the right direction.

Sunday Bloody Sunday

At least my body doesn't let me psyche myself into believing that the test was a false positive. I woke up this morning to my period and quickly realized I had very little in way of supplies to deal with it. Ugh.

I started making a list of questions for the doctor. Hope is going with me to the baseline to help ask questions and be an extra set of ears.

* what more can I do?
* what are the chances of getting pregnant?
* did the increase of Gonal-F and Menopur cause over-stimulation to the point that the follicles stopped growing and it caused the spotting?
* should FG re-examine me to see where things stand with my reproductive levels?
* would taking a month off make any difference?

That's what we have so far. It will be good for Hope to be there. I ask why I'm not getting pregnant and I get an answer like, "you're doing all you can." Hope will push and ask for an actual medical explanation.

For the past two years, I've never wavered. I've never doubted myself or my decision. This is what I'm supposed to do. I can be a single mother. I will have no trouble with it. But now, as I'm nearing my last chance, I am starting to doubt adoption.

How reasonable is it to take on a debt that large and add another person to my household? A person who is 100% dependent on me for all of his or her needs?

I'm casting the net, and actually this is where Fran being Fran is a good thing. She's casting the net. She's got her Nigerian priest looking into adopting from his country, she's working something with a woman who may or may not have someone in her family to take care of her baby which has to be taken from her as soon as she gives birth, and then she asked my oldest sister about anything that her husband may have (he's the former DA of a small town and now has his own private practice).

Hope asked me the other day if, knowing that I believe in fate and destiny, I needed to go through the past two years of failure and disappointment so that my heart would be completely open to an adopted child, that if the past two years were fate's way of making the timing exactly right for the child that is meant for me.

It's a nice thought. And one that I'm sure will become my mantra the minute I'm holding my baby, however that baby comes to me.

Eleven Down....One to Go

My test was negative today. I was indifferent to the results. It has become the norm to hear the bad news, at this point. I can only cry so many times.

The girls and I went on a field trip after getting the news. Wal-Mart to get me a diet Pepsi; Kohls for a shopping excursion; and McDonald's for grease.

And then I got back to the office and ran into a co-worker who is only in the office on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She had been looking for me the other day, wanted to tell me something before I heard it from someone else, was just going to say it.

"You're pregnant." It wasn't a question, because just like hearing the negative test result, hearing that other people are pregnant has become the norm. "I'm happy for you."

"I know you are."

"I'm probably going to cry, but I'm happy for you." And then I walked into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and sobbed.

After that one of my friends said, "maybe you just adopt. Isn't that what they say? You adopt, and then when you least expect it...."

But that's not going to happen to me. Unless Mr. Right suddenly shows up. It happens to those people because they have a husband, they're having sex. The only sex I'm having these days is protected, for the most part.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm ready to give up. But I won't. I have one try left and I have to do it. I've already called in my prescription refills for the next round of ovarian stimulants, even before I get my period.

And so I'll do what I've done the last 10 times I've heard, "the test was negative, if you want to try again, call us on the first day of your cycle." I'll feel sorry for myself for the weekend, and then get right back on the horse.

This, however, will be the last horse I'm riding. Win or lose. After the next round, I'm done.

Some days are so hard

Babies are everywhere. And if they're not there, their parents are, talking about them. And some days, I'm happy to listen and join in on the conversation, and others....not so much.

Today was one of those days.

A group of us went to lunch today and on the way drive back to work, it was nothing but babies.

And the right amount of years between the first and second. (Can I just have one, please, before all you breeders start planning for your next one?)

And when people were going to start trying to having a baby. "We're going to start in August." (And you'll probably be pregnant by the end of the year.)

And how one baby is getting teeth and the other one is walking. (I got nothing on that one, just sadness for myself.)

I went to read my Rochester friends' blog -- and shouldn't have since it's all about the little girl they just adopted. Probably not the best reading in my current mood. She's thisclose to crawling, and eating new foods and has new teeth. And I'm so happy for them -- and so sad and jealous.

It's one of those nights when I'm hoping for no baby-related shows, an easy fall to sleep, and a restful night. I have yoga tomorrow, and I'm hoping to be out of this mood by then.

I have my blood test on Thursday. I'm feeling indifferent. Some twinges, less than last month, but then again, I wasn't pregnant last month.

I'm so tempted to buy an HPT, but I won't.

But I want to.

Visualize...and Make it Happen

FG offered a class in making vision boards last week. It was at the same time as yoga, and not really wanting to be the only single one there, I opted to go to yoga. But that's not to say that I totally give up on the vision board idea.

Two procedures ago, he told me to visualize. "See what you want. Imagine what you will get. Think about a beautiful healthy baby. See your child." And so, I found this picture in a magazine and though, not every night, I try to look at this picture often.



I don't know what my child will look like. I only know that when I saw this picture in a magazine, it made me think of what my child could look like.

I showed FG two weeks ago when I went in for my IUI. He looked at the picture and grabbed my hand. "I have chills."

And for those who don't know what I look like, here is a picture of me at about 2 1/2.

My Inspirational Thought of the Day

I've made my share of mistakes, I've committed my share of sins. But I am still spiritual, still believe deeply in God. And especially over the past two years, I've found strength in praying and most recently in going back to church.

Last week, I was running errands downtown and stopped into church. As I was there, I was note really praying for guidance about J, more that I needed him in my life, that I knew it was wrong, but I'm not ready to let go of him, that he's all I've got.

At that EXACT moment, my cell phone vibrated, signaling a text. I opened it up to see a text from E. "In LA, thinking about you." I guess that was God's way of answering my statement. I guess He showed me.

~~~~~~

My sister-in-law sent this to me as an email and it really effected me.

I know I can't see the big picture of why I'm supposed to struggle with infertility or while I'm single or why anything is the way it is in my life. But I have to believe that there is a greater plan.

"We complain about the cross we bear but don't realize it is preparing us for the dip in the road that God can see and we cannot."

And the wait begins

I had a relatively uneventful weekend and then started my progesterone (in oil via intramuscular shots and suppositories via....you know) and the Lovonox in my stomach. The bloating continues -- big distended belly each night.

My dilemma for today -- because I had IUI, I have moments where I actually forget that I could be pregnant. And so on Friday, during one of these lapses, I made a date for next Monday with E. Hmmmmm.

I spoke to the doctor's office today and they said, absolutely I can have sex, in fact "some couple even have sex after the IUI, you never know." I didn't correct the nurse that this is not my situation, but took the verdict and continued the deliberation of whether I should go or not.

Some friends say, don't go. If your test is negative, you will think that you did something wrong.

Others say, go. Enjoy yourself. Relax.

I thought about it all day. I called my sister-in-law and asked for her advice, but prefaced it with, I think I know what my decision is. She listened to both sides of the argument and then said, it's a tough call. What do you think?

I told her what I will tell you now, if I can't decide, if I'm waffling so much back and forth, then I probably know deep down that I shouldn't go.

I'm going to text him later tonight or tomorrow and tell him I had to have a "chick-related" procedure done and am on "vaginal rest" for the next 10 days, can we do it the following Monday?

If I'm not pregnant, consolation prize. If I am, I'll figure out what to tell him then.

Doin' Old School with an IUI

I went for my IUI today. Sixteen point eight million sperm were inserted into my uterus. I had acupuncture before and after. And then I came home and rested. I've got four good follicles on the right side, three C-grade on the left. And 16.8 million sperm! Could just one of them buy one of my girls a drink? Please? It's a sure bet.

When I was getting dressed, I heard the FG's voice in the hallway. I opened the door and he gave me a hug. "You could be pregnant right now."

"I don't know if they swim that fast."

"You need to think pregnant. Are you visualizing? Are you praying? Are you chanting? Are you relaxing? Are you thinking about what you want? It will come to you, or something better. What is meant to be yours, will be."

Just once, I want to lay my head on his lap, have him stroke my hair, and listen to him tell me about what it's like to live in his world. I want to know what it's like to live in a world where you are so happy and positive. All the time. Just being around makes me feel like I can be that positive.

I had a professor in college. I took all of his classes. And I wanted to marry him. I wasn't attracted to him. I was inspired by him. Whenever I left his class, I would get two feet out the door and I would have to stop and write down a million things that I wanted to write about, thoughts I had in my head.

That's the way I feel about the FG. I'm attracted to his mind and his spirit. And his willingness to do so much for so many people to help them fulfill their dreams.

When I walked through the waiting room, I saw someone I knew from high school. (He was actually the first person I "stepped up to the mike" with.) He said hi, so I stopped and said hi.

What exactly is the etiquette when you see someone at the fertility specialist's office anyway? As I was driving home I thought about it, and likened it to running into someone you know at the naughty store. You're both embarrassed and then you realize that you're both there for the same reason. We talked for a few minutes, he introduced me to his wife and then I was off to acupuncture.

I listened to my yoga CD on the drive home. Stayed relaxed. Tried to think pregnant. And then a deer started to run across the highway. I slowed down and I now know where the expression "deer in the headlights" comes from. She just stood there, until I beeped my horn and she ran back into the woods. I saved a life today. Always a good thing.

I rested all afternoon. I thought good thoughts. I have tomorrow off, though I will need to go up to the office to get some work to do over the weekend. Other than writing a couple of articles for a newsletter, it's going to be a low-key weekend, letting these millions of little guys try to find their way to one of my girls.

IVF, IUI -- Getting Knocked Up Somehow

I drove to Syracuse for yoga last night. When I got there, I noticed a little cramping in my stomach but thought that it was probably follicle growth. And didn't think about it again.

When I was driving home, I stopped for something to eat, and then a little while later noticed that my stomach hurt. More like I shouldn't have eaten McDonald's than anything else. Again, I didn't think anything of it.

I got home about 9pm, utterly exhausted at the prospect of doing anything other than falling into my bed. But, given that I had to leave my house at 6:15am to go back to Syracuse for a follicle check, I dragged myself into the shower. At least with a full shower and my hair out of the way, I would only have to take a quick jump in the shower in the morning.

And then I noticed it. The faintest of spotting. WTF?! I tried not to freak out. Spotting happens. It doesn't mean anything. I woke up twice in the middle of the night and checked. Nothing.

And then this morning, it was back again. The lightest and fairest amount while still existing. I thought about what it meant all the way to Syracuse. Three weeks of shots. Driving 60 miles round-trip every other day. Another month of waiting for this to just be over. All the way to Syracuse.

When I got to the doctor's office, I burst into tears as soon as the first nurse closed the exam door and asked how I was. "I think I'm getting my period." She calmly told me it could be the hormones, that my blood levels haven't indicated that I ovulated, that let's take it one step at a time and see what the ultrasound looked like and what my levels were today.

She then took my blood pressure, which is usually in the 100/70 or 95/66 range. Today? 141/100. Clearly I had gotten myself worked up.

Donna -- the nurse who has been monitoring me and doing all my ultrasounds -- came in and was just as calm as Cory had been. Lining looks good. Follicles still really full. But the blood work will be the determining factor.

We talked about options. Because it's my last IVF, we might not want to do that since the conditions aren't perfect. But she was concerned about this also being the last of my sperm. Not the case -- the donor I am using has more available. So she floated the idea of an IUI out there. Interesting.

(IUI is inter-uterine insemination and what I did for my first six attempts. They put the sperm directly into my uterus using a catheter, rather than retrieve the eggs and put embryos back in with IVF.)

She told me to get dressed and relax. She would call me once she got the blood work back. I managed to calm down on my way back to Ithaca. I listened to my yoga CD, cried only a few times, and by the time I got to work, I felt better.

Donna called around lunchtime. Was I still spotting? A little, but not that much. It hadn't worsened in any event. My blood levels indicated that I did not ovulate. "What do you want to do?"

"I'd be willing to do IUI this month."

"Good, that's what I think we should do too."

And so (unless I actually start bleeding tonight) the last three weeks of shots and trips to Syracuse and hormones and the anticipation and preparation aren't wasted. And it means two more tries, not one. Because if the IUI doesn't work, I still have the IVF to do.

So tomorrow? What else? Back to Syracuse. Acupuncture first, then the procedure, then another round of acupuncture. And then I'm going to take tomorrow and Friday off to lay low. And rest. And think good pregnancy thoughts.

Not the Fastest Growing Follicles

I went back to Syracuse this morning, for what I was hoping was the last follicle check. Not so fast. "You're not going to win any contests for the fastest-growing follicles, but they're close..."

The left ovary is still pretty sluggish -- the three follicles in 11-13mm at best. The right is very close. One of the four is 19mm, and the rest are right behind it. More shooting up tonight and tomorrow, and back to the doctor on Wednesday.

At this appointment, the nurse guessed that possibly Friday could be retrieval day.

So yoga tomorrow night, and back on Wednesday.

Pretty Woman

My friend Jill is out of town and I'm cat sitting. Which really means I drop by her house every three days or so, bring in her mail and make sure her cats have food and water. And usually, I'll hang out there for about half an hour to visit with the kitties. Not a big deal.

This morning I went over and on the kitchen counter was brand new Vera Bradley bag "from" the kitties. It was so sweet. I love the style -- totally different from my usual choices, but I wasn't crazy about the color. You'd think you couldn't go wrong with anything pink -- and usually that would be the case -- but I'm not crazy about the yellow.

There are three places in town that sell Vera Bradley -- a jewelry store at the mall, and on each of the campuses. I went to the mall to exchange it. It's Sunday. I'm in my "Sunday best" -- baseball hat, sweatshirt, capri sweat pants.

I walked into the store and was not acknowledged. I spent a good 10 minutes pulling different bags down and examining them. No one asked how I was doing, if I needed help, etc. Finally, I decided on one I liked. Same bag, different color. And decided to get the matching coin purse.

At the desk, the woman was on her cell phone, obviously retrieving messages. When she was done, she still hadn't asked me how I was or if I had found everything okay. I finally just took the lead. "I received this as a gift, and need to exchange it."

"Do you have a receipt?"

"It was a gift. The tag is still on it."

"I need the receipt. Can you call the person you got it from and get the invoice number off the receipt?"

"No. She's on vacation. She left it for me at her house this morning. I'm watching her cats. It's an exact exchange. Can't you just do it? Please?"

"No. That's not the way our system works. Get the receipt and you can come back and exchange it."

I smiled and put my purse back in the gift bag. "No, that's okay. I'd rather keep it than give this store any business." And with that, I walked out.

I've worked retail on and off for nearly 20 years. It's just basic common courtesy. Say hello when people walk in. Ask if they need help, and if they say no, leave them alone. If they look indecisive while they're shopping, go over and offer an opinion. And if you're on the phone -- business or personal -- acknowledge the person that walks up to the counter. Even if you have to whisper, "I'll be right with you."

The unfortunate thing is that this is one of the nicer jewelry stores in town. However, while it may be a nice store, it's still just a jewelry store in a fucking mall in Ithaca, not on Rodeo Drive or Fifth Avenue.

Getting Bigger

I had yoga in Syracuse last night, and then went up there again this morning for a follicle check. Before leaving the house this morning, I changed my clothes several times, looked at my belly in the mirror and finally pulled a maternity top out of the clothes my niece gave me.

Even if I'm never pregnant, I know what I look like. The good news, I have actually lost a pound this month; the bad, I look five months pregnant. Thankfully I could sit at my desk most of the day once I got to work.

The doctor appointment went well -- my biggest follicle is 15mm and the rest are coming up behind it. So I'll go back on Friday, and the nurse said that my retrieval could be as early as Monday or Tuesday next week.

Sluggish

That was the word the nurse used today when she looked at my left ovary. The follicles in the right seem to be growing, but the left ovary looks "sluggish," so they've upped my Gonal-F from 450 to 600. Can't wait to experience the side effects. I go back on Wednesday for another follicle check. At this point, I'm guessing retrieval at the end of next week.

I talked to my sister over the weekend. It was her birthday and she's getting ready for my parents' visit. I told her about how our dad's mouth and bigotry has gotten worse over the past year. And whether he says things to get a rise out of me or it really is just old age, it still pisses me off and embarrasses me. How the "n" word comes out of his mouth, even though I've told both of my parents that it bothers me, especially given my upcoming choices related to adoption.

This is my last month to give him a white grandchild, most likely. And would I love to get pregnant this month? More than anything. And it has absolutely nothing to do with it being a white child, it has to do with wanting to experience being pregnant, to understand that special feeling and privilege that comes with being a pregnant woman.

If I don't get pregnant, I will see what options I have through DSS and simultaneously move forward with private adoption. My options as single woman are the United States (although I'm not sure what exactly that means), Ethiopia, Nepal and Kazakhstan.

Kazakhstan requires two trips; not really feasible in my situation. So maybe the United States (and almost certainly a child of color), Nepal and Ethiopia. Any would be absolutely fine with me. And whether or not, it's fine with my father, I will try not to care.

Winding Down

My follicles are slow-growing, but everyone at the FG's office is so great. "It's okay, slow and steady wins the race." It made me feel better when even I could tell on the ultrasound that there was little change from Wednesday to Friday. But there are seven, so I'll take that as a good sign.

The baseball game last night was great. And at one point, I realized that I had been so into the game and keeping score and enjoying my friends, that I had actually not thought about the baby project for like four or five innings. Amazing.

Today my sister, niece and nephews came to visit. It was so much fun. We went to Buttermilk Falls, had a picnic of Subway and McDonald's and then played on the playground for an hour. Once they left, I had a marathon of laundry-washing, grocery shopping, and banking -- and home in time for the Yankees-Phillies game.

Laundry put away, fruit and veggies cut up and in the fridge, sheets changed. Tomorrow, clean and steam the rugs, mop the floors and take a nap. :)

A Whirlwind Week

Sunday, I worked all day. It was commencement, and I was responsible for getting the pictures immediately from the photographers and uploading them to the website.

Monday, I met my parents for dinner after work. They are leaving for San Diego next week for vacation and wanted to see me. I thought it was amusing that while talking about ESPN, my father told me that he thinks E is "an asshole."

I tried not to giggle too much. "Why? He's great when he's on Mike & Mike."

"I can't stand him. He's not as good as Mike and Mike." I'll remember that the next time he fucks me.

Tuesday, I left work early to head up to Syracuse for yoga for fertility class at the FG's office. It was really great. I enjoyed it a lot. And given that this is my last show, I'm trying to do everything I can, giving myself the best chance to get pregnant this month.

After class, I stopped at Gannon's (one of my favorite places in Syracuse) for ice cream and drove home. Got home about 8:15, jumped in the shower, fell asleep to the Yankees game by 9:15.

This morning I was awake at 5am, out of bed at 5:30 and out the door at 6. Back to Syracuse for a follicle check. I decided -- again, because this is the last month -- that I would do my follicle checks in Syracuse. Last month dragged on too long, and maybe things would have been different if FG's office had been monitoring me instead of my local doctor sending reports up. I had at 7:30 appointment and was at my desk by a little after 9. After work tonight, I have an appointment with Lucia at 5:30. It will be an even earlier night to bed tonight.

Tomorrow, I've got acupuncture at 4, and meeting a friend for dinner at 6. Friday morning, another trip to Syracuse, for an 8am appointment. Friday night, B-Mets game in Binghamton. Saturday, my niece and sister are coming down for the day. And Monday, my bonus day off, I have to go back to Syracuse for an 8:30 appointment.

Sometime in there, I have to do laundry and clean the house. And I'm definitely going to need a nap, at least one day.

I'm tired just thinking about it, and just want to put my head down.

Updates on J and E to come...(didn't get to see E this week, he had to go to NYC for work, but he was so sweet about being bummed that it almost made up for it)

Shooting Up Already

I went in yesterday for my baseline ultrasound and blood work. I start with the ovary stimulants tonight. Still on 450 of the Gonal-F, but they are doubling the Menopur (from 75 to 150). I gained eight pounds in 11 days last month -- I'm so looking forward to what the drugs will do to my body this month.

I weighed myself the other day, pre-period, and I am officially up 34 pounds from the start of all of this. I know. I know. It doesn't matter. But it does. It's so hard to get dressed each day. It's so hard to feel good about myself in clothes other than sweatpants and jeans.

But this is it. I'm either pregnant this month or I start working out hard-core with Adam again. And that's that.

With the double hormones, who knows what my follicle growth will be like, so that really only gives me a window of this week with E. I texted him last night and asked if he had time on Wednesday or Thursday. We're going back and forth on details for Wednesday, still very much up in the air.

It's amazing how starting this cycle again really puts my focus right back on that. So much so that if I don't get to see E this week, I'll be a little disappointed, but whatever.

10,000th visitor

I'm very close to having had 10,000 visits to this little site of mine. I know I don't have a huge base of readers, but those of you who do read, read regularly. If you happen upon this page and see 10,000 on the site meter, send me a note or write me a comment. I'd love to know who the lucky 10,000th visitor is. Maybe I'll even send you a present.

The First Flaw with the FG

The Fertility Guru rents out the Syracuse zoo once a year for his families. There are magicians, face painters, activities for kids, etc. It's something that I've heard about from my friends, and something that I look forward to being able to go to someday.

Friday, I got home from work after hearing about my negative blood test. I cried several times on the way home and was looking forward to curling up on my chair with Casey and not thinking about anything.

I got my mail and there was an invitation in there for FG's event at the zoo. Seriously? This had to be some kind of mistake. Or maybe I was being overly sensitive. I did just get horrible news a mere three hours earlier. I called a friend who had used FG for her three kids.

"That's wrong. You need to address this with him."

I polled other friends, and everyone agreed that it wasn't right that I got it. I shouldn't have been invited. I thought about saying something to one of the nurses when I was up there on Monday, getting checked for my UTI, but chickened out.

Today, I saw the invitation on my desk and decided that I would write to FG. I had Hope and Heather help with the wording, and even though I typed it on the computer, in the end, we felt that a hand-written note was best.

And so...

Dear FG,

I received the invitation last week to the Party with the Animals event, and can only hope that there was a mistake with the mailing list.

If there was no mistake, and I really should have received it, I would ask you to reconsider sending invitations to events like this – where there will be lots of success stories in person – to women who have yet to be successfully pregnant.

I’ve known about this event from my friends who have had children with your help. I’ve been excited about the day that I can go with my own child.

In every other instance, I have been given the utmost support and encouragement from you and your entire staff. But I couldn't let this go by without letting you know how I felt.

Sincerely,
Ellie Lincoln

And it was all about baseball....

I had a fabulous time in Cooperstown, walking leisurely through the museum, reading label copy. There were lots of old people there. And there is nothing better than hearing old men talk about baseball. They saw it, they were around when Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier, some remember Babe Ruth's barnstorming days.

I saw my favorite exhibit, of any museum I've ever been in. It's simple. It's effective. It stands the test of time.


(Ted Williams' strike zone and his batting average based on pitch location)

I thought about E on the drive there (dirty thoughts, all). It helped pass the time. Whoever was responsible did a really poor job building this state. In two hours and 10 minutes, I went from the middle of nowhere to the middle of nowhere, and passed through nothing but open fields, cows and trailer parks.

After the museum, I had lunch at the pizzeria. Cooperstown is actually small enough that I can say "the pizzeria" and be specifically talking about only one place. they have the best NY-style pizza. I always eat there when I'm in the Holy Land. I got a cookie from the bakery for my ride home, and then headed north and west.

And then as I was driving home, I got a text from J. "Hey, so give me an update."

I texted him back. "driving call me"

Two minutes later, his ring. He figured that I would have had a blood test in the past week (even my mother couldn't figure that out) and wanted to know what was up. I told him I had gotten a negative test, and that I had one IVF left before my fertility insurance ran out.

"I'm sorry babe."

And I told him that I had actually been thinking about emailing him, that I needed to put a bug in his ear that if the next IVF doesn't work out, my friends will be putting a raffle together to help with the adoption costs. "A Carmelo ball would do really well up here..."

"Of course, babe, anything you need. Just let me know and I'll get you some stuff."

We talked basketball play-offs, more baby stuff. It was friendly, professional, and not at all inappropriate. Of course, he's heading up to Jersey tomorrow to visit his brother. It was hard to tell if it's a solo trip or not. I'm guessing if it is, I'll be getting a phone call in the next few nights. Which I will ignore.

Kind of ironic, that he called today. If my original plans had worked out, I would have been freshly showered, in a bathrobe, sipping wine, sitting on a bed in a hotel, waiting for E when he called. I know that I wouldn't have rubbed that in his face, but it would have been nice to have that option.

Change of Plans

I got four beeps at lunch. "hey gorgeous..."

And then, "can you call me about 430?"

That couldn't be good. I figured he was canceling, but on the bright side, if he was canceling, at least he was calling. Not doing it over text (a very J move, if he texted at all).

I called him and yes, he was canceling. He has his kids unexpectedly from tonight through Sunday. "But is there an airport in Ithaca? It might just be easier if I flew you here. Then neither of us has to drive."

So I looked up flights and prices -- less than $200. "Let's talk tomorrow and set up a date. I really wanted to see you, and I don't want to cancel without setting something else up."

How very adult. Of course this is the way a man is supposed to handle this. Shit happens, things come up. And so, while I'm pretty disappointed that I don't get my consolation prize after my negative test, I have no doubt that he'll make it up to me when we see each other.

I'm still taking the day off. I'm going to the Mother Land (Cooperstown) for a trip to the Hall of Fame. It'll be a nice day to myself, away from the office, away from home, away from DSS and fertility treatments. It'll be about nothing but baseball.

Manny Tested Positive for hCG....

I didn't.

I'm going to meet E on Wednesday.

The Consolation Prize

My blood test is within the next week. I've been alternately scared and hopeful, trying not to read into the tiredness, my contacts bugging me and the slight twinges in my lower abdomen.

E texted me last night. "in seattle...thinkin bout that mouth"

I slept through the beeps. I wrote back to him this morning. And the sexting started. And then he laid it out there. "we need to hook up. soon."

"next week?"

We planned on next Wednesday, same hotel, about 5:30pm. And then I googled "sex after IVF." Depending on the website, the general consensus is either no sex until the first ultrasound at six weeks, or no sex until the second trimester -- if the doctor let them have sex at all during the pregnancy.

And so, I'll know for sure by Monday. If I'm pregnant, I'll tell him it's a no go. And I'll finally explain to him what's going on in my life. If I'm not, I get to have really great, mind-blowing sex next week, bruised stomach and all. (Yea, that's hot.)

As much as I want to see him again, as much as I want to be with him again, I hope I don't get to.

Heat

I saw Lucia last week for the first time in a month. We talked about E, Chris bring back via telephone, and how J somehow has this pull on me. And she asked me, "what do you want from these guys?"

"Well, I know that J or Chris can't give me a long-term relationship. E's life is complicated as he's going through a painful divorce with small children, so maybe somewhere down the road..."

"Don't tell me what they can't give you. You've known that all along. Tell me what you want from them?"

"Honestly? I want sex."

"You're in heat."

"Excuse me?"

And then she explained her theory. As the very basic level, our bodies are meant to make babies. And by making babies, we have sex. And to make it easier, each month as we get close to ovulation, we become a little more amorous, a little hornier, because that's when we're supposed to have sex to make babies.

My body has all the hormones for making babies. And has -- at all sorts of levels -- for the past two years. And I'm doing all of this with only occasional sex. I'm in heat.

I explained it to Hope the day we went to Syracuse together. She laughed and thought it made all the sense in the world. "Especially when you were getting ready to go meet E, and I was worried about you getting attached, and you said 'this is just about me having sex, nothing more, nothing less.'"

And so my mood has leveled out, more or less.