All the signs pointed too…, Never text while crying, Hey Jealousy and A Date that was Due…

It has to be a sign:

Everything leading up to this cycle, everything about this cycle all pointed to success. Although I am struggling with the “Everything Happening for a Reason” and the “Meant to Be”, I truly believed that this cycle would be a success. I truly believed all the signs that pointed to success. With every sign: my baseline showing no cyst = sign, the fortune teller saying I will get pregnant once my left ovary starting working again and my left ovary finally producing eggs this cycle = sign, the fortune teller saying I would find out I am pregnant (3 months prior) on October 18th = sign, Leroy being 9 days late making me have to skip the August cycle and do the September cycle making my pregnancy test fall exactly on October 18th = sign, the Math FINALLY falling in my favor = sign, my mom coming with me to my ER = sign (really good sign in my book!) and so many other signs, all of it, I believed it more and more. I believed it was God trying to show me that this was going to happen and that I just need to trust in God and it would all work out. And I trusted. I trusted that God would not send me all of these signs only to let me fall. And I focused. I focused on a positive outcome knowing in my heart that this was it. And I let go. I let go of all negative thoughts. I wouldn’t let myself even for one second entertain the thought that this wasn’t going to work. And I believed. I 100% completely believed. I believed so strongly that I knew I was pregnant. I knew I was pregnant until about 5 days past my ET when all the signs in my body pointed to no. But I tried to ignore those signs b/c God gave my so many signs up until then so I made myself believe that this was just a test and I had to trust, focus, let go and believe even stronger than before. And I did and it turned out that I’m not pregnant. And now I am having a very hard time trusting, focusing, letting go and most of all believing.

Thank you for thinking of me. I’m not pregnant. I am very sad:

Yes, that is the text I sent out to some close girlfriends on Monday October 18th when I found out that I wasn’t pregnant. I cried when I typed it into my phone and I cried when I hit send. I cried for hours on end that day but one text in response to that text actually had me laughing!

“I am so sorry to hear that. I lost my phone last week and don’t have everyone’s number yet so, who is this?”

What? Huh? A return text from who? From TM? I thought I sent the text to TT…oh no…I thought I sent out the text to some of my girlfriends from work and instead of sending it to TT I sent it to TM who is a guy I used to work with about a year ago! I just sent this guy, a guy I hardly know, a text saying “I’m not pregnant”! I quickly tried to move past it by texting “Sorry I meant to send this to TT” His text back: “Who is this?” The jig is up…I respond: “It’s Michaela”. And now the text messages continue: “Hey sorry to hear that. I didn’t know you were trying to have a baby. At least you get to keep trying. That’s the fun part!” Yes, TM I do get to keep trying and NO it is not fun! But I didn’t want to text him that. This guy already (now!) knows more of my business than he needs to so, in trying to put an end to my embarrassing text moment and I text back “Thank you and I guess you didn’t really need to know any of this. LOL!” A little LOL thrown in there to lighten things up and we should be done…nope…his text back: “I guess not! I didn’t know you were romantically involved to the extent babies were involved. They shit and cry a lot anyway!” Why do people with children always have to say something negative about children or babies to people trying to have a baby? Is it an involuntary reflex?

Oh the text I wanted to send back. The one about my struggles and being single. The one that tells TM in no uncertain terms to cherish his little baby and every little poop he produces b/c not everyone gets that chance. But I didn’t. My text back was: “At least accidentally texting you made me laugh today”. And it did.

If I hadn’t blown the whole thing years ago I might not be alone:

I’ve been many things in my life. I’ve been jealous, jaded, shallow, bitter, petty and angry. Yes, I will admit that I have at one time or another been all those things but I have never been all those things all at once until now. And I can’t seem to help it or stop it.

A lot of the women on my Fertility Boards who’ve gotten pregnant after I did are having their babies. I am jealous.

When they announce their betas, if it is low I automatically think the worst. I am jaded.

They talk about names they’ve picked out, decorating their nurseries and their baby showers. I automatically negate their choices. I am shallow, bitter and petty.

I think about the time I’ve wasted over the years. I think that if I had only tried to have a baby years ago, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I think about my miscarriage. I think "That should be me!" I am angry!

I do not like this person I’ve become. I don’t like feeling or thinking this way.

My due date:

Maybe a failed IVF cycle right before my due date has exaggerated all these feelings and I am really not that bad of person? One can only hope. But Sunday October 31, 2010 was the day I should have had my baby. My Angel. On a day where everyone will be wearing a costume, pretending to be someone else, I too will be pretending. I will be pretending to move on. I will be pretending to move forward. I will wear a mask. A mask with a smile on it when in reality I am sad.

Last Stop!!! Lostville!!

This is actually a post I didn't want to make. I wanted to find some humorous way of expressing how I am truly feeling right now because I've always been one who tries to find the funny side of life...Instead I have to rely on my other side. The side that just tells it like it is...my truthful side so, for those of you wondering where the Crazy Train left me off...well, it wasn't Disney! It feels like it stopped in the middle of a very long, dark tunnel and I am walking around trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel. And it is not there. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. I am lost in the dark. I’m trying so hard to see but I have no idea where I am suppose to go and what I am supposed to do. You see, the Crazy Train, when it stops, even though your IVF cycle has ended unsuccessfully, you still feel lost, left off in the middle, you don’t feel like this is your final destination but you don’t know what direction you are supposed to go in either. The sadness is overwhelming and self pity becomes prevalent. I have never been one to wallow in self pity but when you are stumbling around in the dark unable to see you tend to get a case of the “Why me’s”. “Why is this happening to me?” Which then makes me wonder if I am paying off some karmic debt? You are lost in a maze of questions, worry, fear and self doubt and you just can’t see a way past it. A way past the sadness, a way past the pain. You can’t see the road you are meant to travel and you can’t see the future you so desperately want…you are stumbling around in Lostville.

And although I only found out yesterday that I’m not pregnant it feels so long ago. I find myself staring off into space, drifting and remembering my last cycle like was in another lifetime. I am mourning. And I know I need to pick up the pieces and move on but I don't know which direction I'm suppose to go in. I am trying so desperately to find the light. To find the ray of light to illuminate my way but I’m grappling in the dark, reaching out, straining to find that glimmer of hope. The problem is...it is so hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel when your eyes are full of tears.

An Autumn Harvest in the land of Dixie, Call Me on the Line, Time to Transfer and The Crazy Train:

I normally wouldn’t put in a disclaimer in for one of my posts. I do believe in “Read at Own Risk” and those that know me know that I am a “tell it like it is” kinda gal. Sugar coating is not my strong point and sparing no detail is. But I do realize that not everyone reading my blog really knows me and those that do know me might want to be spared certain details. So, for those of you who don’t wish to know exactly what happens when the doc gets up-close and personal. I would advise you to skip this post…

Sorry this is so long.

Please consult the acronym list for definitions of certain abbreviations.

If you come from the land of cotton…

The fertility clinic that I go to has two REs. There is Dr. A who I call Dr. Wow and then there is Dr. C who, let’s just say, I call him Dr. Corny. Now, Dr. Wow and Dr. Corny alternate the days they are in the office. So for my regular monitoring visits I am never sure if it will be Dr. Wow or Dr. Corny doing my ultrasound. If you can’t tell from my sweet, little nicknames, I don’t really care for Dr. Corny. I prefer Dr. Wow.

My last 3 monitoring visits, it was Dr. Corny. I was starting to miss Dr. Wow but I knew he would be doing my ER or so I thought …

On the day of my ER, my mother drove me. On the way I told her it would be Dr. Wow doing my surgery. I assumed it would be Dr. Wow. After all Dr. Wow was my doctor NOT Dr. Corny and Dr. Wow did my last ER. I explained to my mom how I preferred Dr. Wow and how Dr. Corny got on my nerves. And of course my mother asked what was wrong with Dr. Corny. I explained to her about certain “demeanors” that he has that drive me crazy…like how he has a southern accent…I’m not a fan…so when he comes in he says: “How ya’ll doing this morning?” and then gives me an off to the side, halfway handshake (I hate halfway handshakes) I’m already starting to cringe. And it’s not just a southern accent; it’s a perky southern accent. I don’t do perky. Especially before 9:00 am! He says things like “Alrighty then feet in the stirrups” and always pats both stirrups with his hands. Once you lie back and put your feet in the stirrups he’ll say “Now skootch on down” and then proceeds with “Alrighty then, you’re just gonna feel my hand first” and then he “adjusts” my cookie so he can insert the vaginal ultrasound. He’s even annoying when he does your ultrasound b/c he has to point out everything. I don’t know about the rest of you but when I look at the screen all I ever see is some gray fuzz, static and an occasional black dot. But Dr. Corny is always “Ohhh, there’s your bowel, ya see that. There’s your lining, ya see that and here’s your ovary, ya see that” and I want to say “NO! No I don’t see it” but I always say “Uh huh!”

To all my southern readers, southern friends and southern folk in general I mean this in no disrespect but I am a Jersey Girl (with an equally annoying accent) and there is only so much southern hospitality and southern charm I can take. Dr.Wow is more “down to business”. He walks in says hi, has you lie back, inserts ultrasound, looks at what he needs to look at and he’s done. Dr. Corny is like a some kinda of Dixieland Mary Poppins! It’s just too much perk for me!

Now of course my mom and I are laughing about this as we are heading to the doctor’s office for my surgery. Once we get to the office and I sign in, I see Dr. Corny walking around in scrubs. I am puzzled. I look at the receptionist and I say (in horror) “Is it Dr. C today?” and she says “Yes, why?” Now I can feel the tears starting to build. I choke them back. I reply “I thought it was going to be Dr. Wow” and she tells me Dr. Wow is away. My mom and I go to the waiting room and I start to cry. I know Dr. Corny is an excellent, capable doctor but I can’t seem to fight back the tears. And you have to remember that I am on a lot (I mean A LOT) of hormones! The nurse comes back to bring me to the prep room before my surgery and she sees I’m crying. I tell her I’m okay and then my mom has to tell her I’m upset b/c I want Dr. Wow…now I am trying to stop my mom from doing this. I don’t want everyone to know that’s why I’m upset…especially Dr. Corny…he’s about to do some very delicate work in the downtown area…I don’t need him thinking he brings me to tears! The nurse assures me everything will be okay. And of course it was.

Dr. Corny came in with his usual Dixieland Perk and introduced himself to my mom. Once he left of course we started laughing because he presented all the “demeanors” to my mom that I was telling her about. And I am whispering to my mom “You see! You see what I am talking about!” And my mom says “Well, he is a little upbeat!” and we started laughing again. I actually felt a lot better.

As I was lying completely naked and barely covered with my feet up in the stirrups waiting for the anesthesiologist to put me out, in walked Dr. Corny and said “How ya’ll feeling?” I said “Good” and he said “Alrighty then I’m just gonna put the speculum in” and all I remember was lying there, with the speculum hanging out of my cookie, thinking “Hurry up and put me to sleep” and I was out! Dr. Corny retrieved all 6 eggs.

I will say this as a side bar. I did wonder if people talked at all while under anesthesia so I asked the anesthesiologist, and he said “Yes but I never tell” so of course now I am fearful that I might have unconsciously called Dr. C by his nickname Dr. Corny while I was out so I said to the anesthesiologist “Did I talk while I was out?” he said “I will never tell” UGHHHH….when your doctor is that up-close and personal you don’t want to be calling them Corny!!

After your ER you go home and rest…pass out again is more like it. And all you can do is wait until the next morning when the doctor calls to give you your fertilization report. It always seems like forever before they call and they always seem to call at random times. It’s never an exact time or time frame. Dr. Corny called me at 10:30 am with my fertilization report. Out of my 6 eggs, 5 were mature and 4 fertilized…this report was much better than my last one…and now all you can do is wait until Day 3 after your ER (ER counting as Day 0) to see how your embryos (which I like to call my embabies) are growing and when your transfer will be. So I waited the whole next day and the following morning for my call…

Well the last time you called…

Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep the night before my transfer. I was up at 7:00 am pacing the floors waiting for my call. I knew they wouldn’t call that early but I couldn’t sleep. I had this overwhelming (but not completely unfounded) fear that none of embryos made it to Day 3. On my last cycle none of my embryos made it to a Day 5 transfer, this is the reason why we are doing a Day 3 transfer this time so the chances of my embabies not making it to Day 3 were very low but still the last time…9:00 am the phone rings…I answer…it’s Dr. Wow and all the sudden I was wishing it was Dr. C. The last time Dr. Wow called me it was really bad news…”How are you feeling?” he says. “Nervous” I said. “Oh don’t be” he said and then I said “Well the last time you called me…” and I started laughing. He reassured me and said that he would have the nurse call me to let me know what time I should come in for my ET. And then he said something that really made me pause…right before he hung up he said “And I will be doing your transfer so you don’t have to worry”…"so you don’t have to worry”…UGHHH…insert curse word here!!!! FFFFF, SSSSSSS, DAMN everyone in that office knows I cried when I was told Dr. C was doing my surgery. If they even told Dr. Wow who was away that day what are the chances Dr. C doesn’t know!!!! Now I really feel bad.

And the wait goes on…

I don’t think the doctors, nurses or receptionists realize how agonizing the wait is for the phone call…your stomach is in knots the whole time and you are on the edge of your seat…10:10 am the phone rings…the receptionist wants to know if I can be there at 11:00 am. I live 20 minutes away. I still need my prep time so I rushed to jump in the shower. There are certain things a gal must do to be “presentable” before a doctor’s downtown visit. And although Dr. Corny was in the vicinity on Monday, I still had to follow protocol and get my cookie ready for today’s visit. Now I cannot speak for everyone but I make sure my legs are shaved, my armpits are shaved (Why? I have no idea! That is the only area they don’t get to see!) and the carpet is groomed from front to back. Well, me personally, I have hard wood floors so they are shined from front to back. Cookie prep done and I was off to my ET.

Transfer Time…

I had no idea what to expect after all this was my first transfer. I was told to drink about 16 ounces of water before you got there. They want you to have a full bladder. I bought the largest bottle of water I could find and began drinking it on my way to the doctor’s office. Once I got there they bring you into the same room where you had your ER but this time you are awake for the whole procedure. Dr. Wow comes over and discusses how many embabies we should transfer. We decided on all 4. The embryologist gets the embabies prepared while Dr. Wow rinses your cervix. Now they want you’re bladder to be full for this procedure. They say it helps them see better on the ultrasound machine and I clearly thought mine was full but when they looked on the ultrasound they said it was not. But man did I feel like I had to go….oh no…I am a very regular person and on this morning with all the phone calls and waiting I did not take care of my morning business. There is a little fear I have when going to the downtown doctor and that is a fear of an accidental release…now with my transfer ready to start…a delicate procedure…I am fearing that accidental release and trying oh so very hard not to clinch at the same time…

The embryologist comes in with a picture of my 4 embabies. I am in awe. I am in love. I forget about the pressure, the procedure, the speculum and I lie there looking at their beautiful picture. Dr. Wow says to me “That’s baby’s first pictures.” I said “I will put it in my baby book.” Dr. Wow says: “First page” and I say “No, I took a picture of all the needles I had to give myself. That’s going to be the first page. So when my kid acts up I can pull out the book” and now we all start laughing, me, the nurse and Dr. Wow and with that laugh the downtown pressure seems to drop a little bit and my fear of an accidental release came back rushing back. In my mind I am thinking…don’t clinch, relax and for the love of God don’t fart! But 1 second later he was done! I let out a deep breath and I am glad that is all I let out!

All Aboard (ha ha ha ha ha ha!) yes you can cue up Ozzy!...

I’m going off the rails on a Crazy Train!

After your ET you enter into the 2ww and board the Crazy Train…

I knew I would be boarding the Crazy Train as soon as my ET was over but what I didn’t realize was how fast the stop to Looneyville came up. I figured I would reach Looneyville by day 3 or day 4 after my ET. I reached Looneyville in a record 30 minutes after my ET. Since my “morning business” was put on hold for my ET and now my bladder was finally filling up with all the water they had me drink, I felt that all was about to let loose. As I lay with my feet up waiting for the nurse to tell me it was time to go, I tried really hard to “hold” things in. You have to remember that there is another woman in the bed next to me, separated by a curtain, waiting to go in for her ET. And as much as I thought I could quietly let myself “release” some pressure, I also knew I was lying there without any bottoms on so I didn’t want to risk the acoustics boosting the noise level. So I uncomfortably continued to “hold” things in. Finally the nurse came in a said that I could get dressed. I rapidly asked if I could go to the bathroom. And before she even finished I was dressed and headed to the bathroom. I figured I would pee and maybe shoot off some warning shots of what’s to come and then go home to finish my business but no…my business had a mind of its own. It wanted sweet release right then and there. Now I know you are probably thinking “Okay, so what…you took a poop at the RE’s office” and on any other given day I wouldn’t think twice (or give 2 you know what’s!) about pooping in a doctor’s office. But once I started feeling the train (my poop) about to leave the station…the Crazy Train pulled up to Looneyville! I was afraid to poop. I was afraid to push. I was afraid I would push my embryos back out! I know it’s crazy! I know it’s silly but did I not just say I pulled up to Looneyville. So there I am in the bathroom, trying to poop without pushing! You might wonder if that is even possible. And although this was an experiment that I didn’t mean to partake in, the answer is no. No it is not possible to poop without pushing. It’s only a matter of the level of pushing. Pushing becomes involuntary. And now I was completely paranoid that I had “pushed” out more than poop. I was completely paranoid that I pushed out my embabies. I tried to reassure myself that it wasn’t possible to push out my embabies (and it’s not) but I had already boarded the Crazy Train and reached my 1st stop in Looneyville. I will have to say that over the rest of the day I had to curse my very regular, cleansing bowels two more times and rest assured my conclusion from my experiment in the bathroom in the doctor’s office still holds water…no you cannot poop without some level of pushing (*fast poopers not included in this experiment).

I am now 4 days past my transfer. I am still on the Crazy Training and so far it has pulled into Looneyville, it has pulled into the This Isn’t Going to Work Station and it has pulled into Over Analyze Central! I have 7 more days to go and I can only imagine the stops that the Crazy Train has in store for me! But I am on that train and there is no turning back. When the train stops I will either be in the Happiest Place on Earth or the Saddest. And I will have no choice. I will have to get off!

Everything happens for a reason – What if the reason sucks!?

I used to think “Everything happens for a reason” I used to believe in “meant to be” but when you are trying to figure out how you ended up alone with the fear of never having children and you pour over your life with a fine tooth comb and still can’t find an acceptable reason the only conclusion you can come up with is “Maybe everything doesn’t happen for a reason or maybe the reason sucks!”

In the dissection of your life, you start to think about the good things that just didn’t work out and you say “Wow, I wonder what would have happened if I went to a different college, if I gotten that job, moved away, dated so n so, married so n so” etc and you can see some of the reasons you ended up where you are now: If I had gotten that job or moved, I would have never met V or MA and I wouldn’t BFFs, M2 and I would only be mere acquaintances. I wouldn’t be as close to my sisters or mother. I would be divorced and struggling. I wouldn’t have my condo, I wouldn’t have experienced going to school in Manhattan or a whole host of reasons and then you think “Well, maybe everything does happen for a reason”

Then you start to go over bad things that have happened in your life. Are there some things that you can put into perspective and possible see the reason you had to go through that experience? Yes, there are. I can almost see why I’m having children older. I can’t quite understand the single thing but I can see the reason for the older. I always said that I didn’t want to be one of those mothers who drank and smoked and felt their kids got in the way of going out. I didn’t want that. I wanted my party days to be well behind me when I became a mom and it took me longer than most. “You’re out of time” is the reason I cleaned everything up. And maybe I needed that wake up call. I can see that reason. I can live with that reason. But I still to this day can’t figure out the reason my father left me when I was little. Was that to prepare me to be a single mom? Because if that’s the reason then that reason really sucks! And my miscarriage…there will never be an acceptable reason…ever…

So, yes, there are times when you can see the reason but there are other times where there is no clear answer and without out that answer then there is no reason. Or maybe the reason is that unclear, very vague answer your mother would give you when she had no good reason: “Because. Just because”. What if the reason is “Because”!!

I usually get the old standby reasons: “It’s because are so strong” or “You are stronger than most” So, if I was weak I wouldn’t have to go through this heartache! What kinda reason is that? “God is testing you” Well, you know what….go test someone else! I’ve had my fill thank you! Why don’t you go pick on someone weak! On that one I’m just kidding. In that case I’d rather it be me…could that be the reason? Or there’s the ever so popular: “God only gives you what you can handle” So when is it enough? When have you reached all you can handle? When do you get to cry “Uncle”? I think the big guy’s missed the boat on this one b/c I’m at my limit!

To me the above are not reasons…and if they truly are the reason then the reason does suck!

How can you look a woman in the eye and say that there is a reason she can’t have children? There is a reason she has recurring miscarriages? There is a reason her hopes and dreams might not come true? But a) you might never find out that reason or b) the reason may suck! I really don’t think that I believe that “Everything happens for a reason”. If it was true then all of this is happening because of some vague, cryptic reason …I just don’t buy it! And if you never find out the reason then what’s the point!! Or if the reason is just “Because” then there is no point!

And as much as I don’t get it. As much as I don’t buy it. As much as the “Everything happens for a reason” excuse has flown out the window for me, I continue to ask God to show me the reason. Every day I ask him to please show me what I am supposed to do and what I’m supposed to learn. I ask him to please show me why I am at this place in my life, why I am at this scary, emotional place and I keep asking him what the reason is! I keep asking for a reason greater than Because!

An Update and an Award!!

The last we saw our fair maiden, she was off to the supermarket to pick up some ice cream in an attempt to “cool things off” and we were left with the lingering question: Pervert or Mass Egg Producer? What did the ultrasound reveal? Hmmm, well…I think the jury is still out. The ultrasound showed 6 Eggs. Not bad for a woman of advanced maternal age (oh how I hate that phrase!) with a diminished ovarian reserve but not quite the number of eggs I was expecting given my “condition” and of course not quite the number I was hoping for after reading about other woman and their 10 plus (some 20) Eggtravaganza! So, I would imagine that there are 2 factors “heightening” the situation. One being the extra Eggs and the second being that I am a woman of “advanced sexual age” (much better term and one with a huge bonus woman have to look forward too as they say goodbye to their 30s). Mix those two together and bam...increased (extremely increased) “sensitivity”! The conclusion: I am a red hot, sexually charged, semi-perverted (I can live with that!) ravishing woman who’s trying to have a baby! And I’m feeling very fertile!

Next up: an Award!

S from Ticking Clock and Shannon from Chasing Rainbows nominated me this week for The Versatile Blogger Award! S I met through my new found blog world that I am now happily immersed in and Shannon and I met on the Fertile Thoughts Single Sisters in Fertility thread. S is starting her 2nd IUI (2 is a charm and my fingers are crossed for you!) and Shannon is now pregnant from her 4th IUI! Shannon I couldn’t be happier for you and I can’t wait to meet little Chiquita.

Thank you both for the nomination!

Now here are the rules to those who I award the Versatile Blogger Award to:

The Rules ~
•thank and link back to the person nice enough to give you the award
•share seven things about yourself
•pass the award along to seven other bloggers who you think are fabulous
•contact the bloggers you chose and let them know about the award

Okay now here is the fun part!

7 Things about me…

1. I used to make pizzas for a living.
2. I sometimes look under my bed before I go to sleep. I have no idea what I would do if something or someone was actually under there. Crap myself is probably it!
3. When I eat a piece of lunchmeat, I always make it into a smiley face first.
4. I have double jointed toes (weird!).
5. I can sleep anywhere, at anytime, with any noise level.
6. When I take a shower, I make the water as hot as I can take it! I come out looking like a lobster.
7. I’m not afraid of growing old. It’s growing old alone that scares me.

And here are my nominations – I am new to this wonderful world of blogging and I know there are many, many wonderful blogs out there I have yet to discover. If you have one those amazing blogs I have yet to discover, send me a comment (or follow me!) and I will gladly give it a read and follow you. As I said I am fairly new to this wonderful world of blogging but so far I love what I have discovered and now I nominate:

Shannon at Chasing Rainbows
Charity at Charity's Journey to Single Motherhood
Hopeful at My (hopeful) Journey to Motherhood
S at Ticking Clock
Katie at from IF to when
The Baby Chaser at The Baby Chase Project
SIF at Single Infertile Female: Now What?
Erica at Parenthood for Me

Happy Blogging!

Side effects can have a certain affect…

When I was in my late twenties, I got baby fever really bad. Every baby I saw made me want one and I felt a definite rise in my already high libido. I remember telling my mother about this new found “friskiness” and her stating “You think its bad now, wait until you’re in your late 30’s early 40’s” and I distinctly remember thinking “There’s no way this could get any more intense”

Well I was wrong. In my early to mid 30’s I was with my ex Sio. Although our relationship was missing a lot of things and we brought out the worst in each other, there was one aspect that was never lacking, dull, boring or without love and that was our sex life. We had an amazing sex life and with the onset of my increased sexuality it was definitely good timing for me. It was definitely more intense than it had been in my late 20’s and I knew this time that there was NO WAY “it” could get any higher. Well let’s just say the old saying that “Your mother is always right” still holds true! Boy was she was right and then some. Over the last 6 years I have been predominately single. I have dated and had some short lived relationships which didn’t pan out but my libido, has been and still is on the rise!

I do not claim to know exactly what men go through with their heightened libidos but with the constant urges (and I mean constant ) and heightened sensations I can only imagine that what I am going through is comparable to that of an 18 year old boy.

Now I will say over the last couple of years I have scratched this itch with the help of my Friend with Benefits (FB). And although I longed for “the guy”, “my guy” to share all of this extra special fun with I knew that at least I had FB and he always “came through”.

The reason I bring this up is because recently, I ended things with FB. With the start of my new IVF cycle I felt it was time to move on, to clean house, to focus on becoming a mom and look towards the future which did not include my “afternoon delights”! To leave the past behind and start new even if it meant having to go without my “itch scratcher”! I also felt in some way that this might open me up to finding “my guy”. I ended it with FB at what I am finding to be the worst possible time.

Oh, if I had only waited a few weeks to do so…

All IVF cycles start with suppression. You give yourself a daily shot of some kind of medicine, usually Lupron, which is designed to suppress Leroy. Many people have different side effects associated with Lupron suppression. Some get headaches, some insomnia, some get forgetful (they call Loopy Lupron Brain). I (considering myself very fortunate) haven’t had any of these side effects…well if I did have Loopy Lupron Brain it would be hard for me to tell b/c I can be silly sometimes naturally…So as my cycle progressed I found myself very happy that I hadn’t had any side effects from the meds.

Or so I thought…The next step in an IVF cycle after suppression is stimulation…for those of you who can read between the lines, you might see where this is going…

During stimulation you give yourself 1 to 2 shots a day of some kind of medicine, usually Gonal F or Follistim, to stimulate your ovaries into making as many eggs as possible. The increase in eggs will cause an increase in estrogen which has a direct affect on your overall “friskiness”. As a matter of fact this is one level of “friskiness” that I don’t think even my mom knows about! And although there are many other side effects from stimulation that I hear woman complain about: cramping, bloating, gas. I have heard very few mention this uncontrollable itch!! And I am without my “itch scratcher”! The itch has truly been out of control these last few days. Not only am I ogling the hot waiter at work...I'm ogling the ugly waiter, the bar guests and random men on the street! And in my dreams…well let’s just say in my dreams all itches are scratched and then some. Aren’t dreams fun!! Now I know I have options, I could probably call FB and I am sure even Sio would be happy to oblige and of course I could take matters into my own hands (okay I already did that) but I just feel that all of this heightened activity is being wasted! Here is another time in my life where I wish I had “my guy” to share this with. You know that someone special who would appreciate this in all its heightened glory!

Now in some attempt to quiet this itch I ended up eating a whole 1/2 gallon of ice cream (the good stuff not the diet stuff) between last night and this morning. Yup I had ice cream for breakfast! So on Monday I will find out how many eggs I have...I really hope it's a lot because I feel that if it's not then I'll have no choice but to admit that the only reason I am feeling this way is because I am a pervert. That it is not the affect of certain side effects and I will end up on a diet consisting solely of ice cream! Which I am now on my way out to get some more!

My Dreambox

One of my oldest and dearest friends M2 (yes that is M squared because we were called the M&Ms growing up) went to Alaska for her summer vacation. This is a trip she has always dreamed of taking. A trip I remember her talking about many times over the years. Traveling to Alaska was a dream of hers that became a reality this summer. So, I thought it was ironic that on her dream trip she got me a Dreambox.

M2 invited me over to dinner and I knew with dinner, her return from Alaska and my birthday just passing that presents were in order!! I was excited to see what she had picked up for me in Alaska and I was pretty certain that it would be a doll. I started collecting dolls when I was very young partly influenced by M2’s mom S2. Yes, we call M2's mom S2 (S squared) b/c both M2's mom and my mom have the same name…so they are known as S2.

So after a lovely dinner (M2 always makes good grub!!), out came the present bag! I gleefully reached in to pull out my Alaskan doll but my hand grabbed onto something else in the bag. It was small. I wasn’t sure what it was so I slowly pulled it out of the bag. It was a small, circular wooden box with a dragonfly carved on the top (I love dragonflies) and a little blue gem embedded in it. “This is beautiful” I said. M2 said “Wait there is a piece of paper that goes with that. You have to read the piece of paper.” I fished around the bottom of the bag and pulled out the accompanying piece of paper. I read what was written on the paper out loud:

“The Legend of the Dreambox (often attributed to Lemuria) suggests writing down your fondest dream, greatest desire, strongest wish on a small piece of paper, putting that paper in a Dreambox and placing it beside your bed. Every evening as you retire and every morning as you rise, hold your Dreambox and think on your dream, believing with all your heart that it is so. Legend has it, if done faithfully…your dream will come true.”

M2 said “As soon as I saw this I knew I had to get it for you!” “I love it!” I declared. “I know this can only help”. I will cherish my Dreambox. Then I reached back in my present bag and pulled out a beautiful Alaskan Eskimo doll to add to my collection. Some of my favorite dolls have come from M2 over the 30 plus years we have been friends. Yes, it's been well over 30 years that we have known each other. Her mom and my mom were best friends when we were growing up. We met when we were 3 years old. We went to Kindergarten together, dance classes together, Elementary School, Middle School and High School together. We were even college roommates; having a friend like M2 for all these years is a dream come true in itself. Having her support and friendship through everything is a blessing. The night went on with lots of laughter, talks about my cycle, work, men and other issues like we always do. A true girlfriends get together. The best kind.

Once I got home I placed my doll in its new home on my bookcase next to some other favorites and I sat down with my Dreambox. I thought about all the different dreams, greatest desires and strongest wishes I have had over the years and what I might have put into this box if it was given to me 5 years ago, 10 years ago, 20 years ago and how they all have easily faded but one dream still remained the same so, I pulled out a piece of paper and I wrote:

“I easily get pregnant. I have a healthy pregnancy. I have a beautiful, healthy baby. I am a MOM!”

I neatly folded up that piece of paper and placed it in my Dreambox. I put my Dreambox next to bed and faithfully, every evening before I go to bed and every morning when I rise I hold my Dreambox , I say out loud “I easily get pregnant. I have a healthy pregnancy. I have a beautiful, healthy baby. I am a MOM!” and I know in my heart that it is true. Now let’s see if Legend really has it!

Remembering 9/11…

I really didn’t have any intentions of writing about my feelings from 9/11. It is the most tragic thing I have ever experienced and I know that all feel the same. I wasn’t going to rehash the event and talk about where I was when the Towers fell but you see as much as I try to push all those emotions to the back of my heart and mind they coming rushing back with every name being read and every image of the Towers that I see. Today is a hard day. It will always be a hard day.

As I sit here praying that I can create a life, a life to teach, love and protect, I think about those who lost their lives on 9/11/2001. I think about all the mothers and fathers that lost their sons and daughters. Aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters and friends were lost that day. I lost a friend that day. I can’t even imagine how 9 years has passed so fast. 9 years…the pain is still fresh, the memories feel new. I can still see the horror on people’s faces a we (me and my boyfriend at the time) watched the Towers fall. We stood on the hill outside my apartment which has a panoramic view of Manhattan and we watched the Towers fall. That day and those images are forever burned into my heart and my soul.

I hope to teach my child one day about the bravery of the men and women of 9/11. To teach my child about their strength and their sacrifice. To teach them honor…

This is my quiet memorial in remembrance of those lost on that fateful day and a special remembrance of my brave friend who called her mom to tell her she loved her before the 2nd Tower fell. There is not much one can do on this day but say a prayer and remember…Today I am praying and remembering.

Do the Math!

I’ve always liked the phrase “Do the Math!” It’s a phrase that suggests higher intelligence and knowledge. It suggests that the person saying it knows something that you don’t and if you could only Do the Math you would see it for yourself.

I was watching Criminal Minds (I am addicted to this show) the other night and the FBI agent is interrogating a suspect and leans in and says “I have 5 dead bodies and I am only looking at you. Do the Math!!!” It’s has authority. It’s definitive. Math doesn’t lie.

There is also that famous scene in When Harry Met Sally when they are discussing women faking organisms and Sally says: “Its just that all men are sure it never happened to them and all women at one time or another have done it so you Do the Math.” It’s a little condescending with a “smarty pants” edge.

But it also implies that answers can be obtained through calculating numbers. And that is why Doing the Math is something I can’t help but do! I've always been very good at Math. Math was something I easily understood. I actually couldn’t understand why other people couldn’t get it. It was simple to me: plug in the numbers and you have your answer. Boom just like that. It’s not subjective and as I said, Math doesn’t lie. There are no alternative answers or view points when it comes to Math. And I can’t help but to Do the Math. I think in numbers and percentages. When I am cycling, I Google stats so I can see where I stand. I Google stats so I can see where other ladies who are cycling stand.

One of the gals on the Fertility Board once posted that 33% of IUIs are successful. Of course that number stuck in my head and back in January 5 gals on the board went in for an IUI, 3 on the same day…so that stands to reason that 2 girls would get pregnant if 33% are successful (it’s 1.65 but if you round up then it’s 2). When the BFNs started rolling in I started thinking to myself hmmm could I be the 1 out of 2 and then 2 gals got their BFP and I knew that Leroy was on his way and he was.

Is this reasonable thinking? Mathematically it works but why would having 2 girls get their BFP have any effect on my BFP. I doesn’t but I can’t help but to Do the Math.

About 50% of all women will get a BFP on an IVF cycle. So when 5 girls on the boards were doing IVF basically at the same time I figure 2.5 (yes, that is correct 2.5) would get pregnant. And the fact that it is 2.5 makes you wonder do you round up or down. How do you get a .5 pregnancy…and this is where Math sucks…2 women got pregnant and 1 had a chemical pregnancy. That equals 2.5. I don’t necessarily like numbers or the Math but I still ended up doing the Math and once again the Math didn’t lie.

I think in actuality I hate the numbers. I don’t like thinking about them. I don’t like using them to figure out who will get their BFP and who won’t and mostly I don’t like the numbers because my numbers are so bad. I’m afraid of cycling with certain gals because their numbers are so much better than mine.

The other day was my 42nd birthday. I am now 42. I have now hit the age where success rates are much lower. Where my numbers suck and for once I wish Math would lie.

But here’s the thing: there is also the other side to the stats and the percentages. 30% of women over 40 WILL get pregnant with IVF. I could be one of the 30%. Dr. Doom gave me a practically 0% chance of conceiving with an IUI and I did! Ahhhhh I beat the numbers that are working so hard against me. Could I beat them again?

Over my birthday weekend I went down the shore with one of my BFFs. I stayed with V and her husband at their beach house. Their beach house is located on a little island just outside of Atlantic City. So one night we were sitting on her porch playing poker (of course this wasn’t in the casino, no of course not, but that is bunch of other numbers I won’t go into) and we were playing 7 card draw blind! So basically you can’t see your hand until you flip your cards over. I had flipped 3 cards face up resulting in a pair of Kings for my hand with 4 cards remaining face down. V had to flip her cards until she beat me or folded. She flipped her cards one at a time and got a Straight! She pushed a huge stack of her chips forward to place her bet. The others folded. It was now up to me. I pushed a huge stack of chips forward to call her. I still had 4 cards face down to complete my hand. Her husband said: “You’re going to call her, do you know how hard it is to beat a Straight. The chances are next to zero” Hmmm where have I heard that before! I said “Yup, I’ve got to see the rest of my hand. “ I flip my next card it’s a King! And I declared “I have 3 Kings” and V’s husband said “That still doesn’t beat a Straight” so, I continue to flip my cards, next card, nothing and then the next card…drum roll please….it’s a King and I say “But 4 Kings beat a Straight!!!!!” And yes by God it most certainly does! I beat the odds, I beat the numbers, I fell on the side of Math we all hope to fall on and no I was NOT in the casino where I would have won a ton of money. I was on the porch where I won a bunch of chips that ended up going back into a case at the end of the game BUT I did go for it! I went for it blind, against the odds. I had to see. I couldn’t just fold without seeing.

I know in my heart that I am going to get pregnant, with my own eggs and have a beautiful, healthy baby but I can’t help but to Do the Math!

Today is my first shot of Lupron to mark the start of my 2nd IVF cycle. I am now 42. If you Do the Math, the odds are against me, the numbers aren’t good but sometimes you just have to go for! Sometimes instead of Doing the Math you have to say Screw the Math!!

"It's impossible." said pride. "It's risky." said experience. "It's pointless." said reason. "Give it a try." whispered the heart.

The things I will never see!

At work last night a Bachelorette Party sat at a table in the bar. I waited on them. I’m not going to lie, I thought it was a pretty lame Bachelorette Party just by the sheer fact that it was in my bar. Not because the bar I work at is lame, it’s just not a Bachelorette Party type of bar. You need a bar with loud music, dancing and cute guys. You need to be down in Hoboken (like we did for my BFF’s Bachelorette Party) where you can go bar hopping to any one of the numerous bars with loud music, dancing and cute guys. Or you need to go to an All Male Revue, like we did for my sister’s 3rd wedding; yes you read correctly, I said 3rd but that is a whole another story. Let’s just say I have told everyone in my family that no one is allowed to get married (again!) until I get married! Anyway you need to go to an All Male Revue where hot sexy men embarrass the bride to be by gyrating all around and on her! Something fun, something memorable not dinner and drinks at a local tavern. So at first when they sat down I figured that we were their 1st stop on a fun filled night on the town. They would stop in here, have a couple of drinks, get a bite to eat and then head out for some fun Bachelorette shenanigans! But as the night progressed it became clear this was the full extent of their shenanigans! Shots and wings….hmmm not bad for football season coming up but really lame for a Bachelorette Party. As I continued working, washing bar glasses I thought to myself, that’s something I will never see. I will never see my Bachelorette Party. I’m not saying I will never get married but now, over 40, if I did get married I know I would not have a Bachelorette Party. It would be too silly. I wouldn’t wear a white dress either. That ship has sailed too. I will never see my Bachelorette Party and I will never see myself in a beautiful white wedding dress. I know there will be a lot of you claiming I still could have a Bachelorette Party and I could still wear the white dress but at this point in my life, now, I wouldn’t. Too me, it would just seem all too ridiculous like Mariah Carey wearing hot pants, stop already!! You look ridiculous. I am sure there are people telling her she can still pull it off too but no. It’s silly. So I will never see my Bachelorette Party and I will never see myself in a beautiful white wedding dress. I can live that. There are worse things I will never see and that I might never see. I will never see my father walk me down the aisle. He left when I was very little. I will never see my one grandmother who passed 2 years ago hold my babies and as time keeps marching on I risk the same fate with my other grandma. I myself might never see my grandchildren. I might never see the man of my dreams say “I do” and of course the most frightening of them all is I might never see my children.

Now as the night was coming to an end and I was thinking about things I will never see, I had a very unfortunate accident. A piece of glass shot out from one of the glasses I was putting away and hit me directly in my eye! It hit me with such force I was completely startled. I covered my eye and went over to the other bartender and said “I piece of glass just hit me in my eye”. He must have detected the note of panic in my voice b/c he immediately said “Go, go to the bathroom”. I went to the bathroom, uncovered my eye to see blood on my hand and blood coming out from my eye. This sent me completely into panic mode and of course I started crying. I never saw an eye bleed before and to be honest that is something I never want to see again. The ambulance was called. The police arrived. They kept me from touching my eye, so I sat there with blood dripping from my eye catching it with a cloth wondering how bad it was. I could see. I knew could see. That was a relief. I made a corny joke to the police officers: “I didn’t see that coming!” Ha ha! “If I did I would have closed my eyes!” HAHA! Dork! I am very dorky sometimes especially when I’m nervous. When the ambulance got there they covered both my eyes. They didn’t want my eyes to move around in case there was glass still in my eye. Not being able to see while riding in the ambulance was a little unnerving. I wanted to remove the bandages from my eyes but I didn’t want to make anything worse either. I knew I could see but I was still scared. They took me out of the ambulance and into the Emergency Room and had me slide off the gurney. The whole time I couldn’t see. I cracked another joke telling them “Don’t let me slide off onto the floor”. They didn’t. The nurse came and took the bandages off. I could see. The doctor came to examine me. He said I was very lucky. My cornea wasn’t scratched and there wasn’t any remaining glass in my eye. My eye looks real bad but it’s actually all good!

I will tell you something though, those 30 minutes when I couldn’t see, I have never been so grateful. I kept thanking God for all the things I had seen and all the things I will see. The funny thing is, just today, after all the rain stopped, I saw a double rainbow. It was such beautiful sight. I took it as a sign of all the beautiful things I'm going to see in my life. So, I won’t see myself wearing a white wedding dress, there just comes a time when you shouldn’t and there also comes a time when you should stop wearing hot pants! As I said, there are worse things.

Dan Quayle now Bill O’Reilly? The Great Debate!

And as a man, O'Reilly has voiced his concerns about Aniston's single motherhood comments. Besides calling it "destructive", O'Reilly accused Aniston of "diminishing the role of the dad." He went on saying that she "can hire a battery of people to help her, but she cannot hire a dad... Dads bring a psychology to children that is in this society, I believe, under-emphasized." http://www.aceshowbiz.com/news/view/00034664.html

I always wondered what makes a man have to stand up and defend fatherhood. Are they over compensating for their own inadequacies? My mom never got "up in arms" and had to justify herself as a good mother or insist on her relevance in today's society when "Mr. Mom" came out. Real fathers, real dads go on with their daily lives being the best parent that they can be and probably hold little regard to what the rest of the world thinks about the importance of a father in a child’s life. They know their importance and feel no need to defend it and they are compassionate to the plight of the single parent. Parenting is the hardest job that I pray to have the honor of having but does that mean I am single handedly diminishing the role of fathers in today society? Haven’t men already done that to themselves? I might not have the exact numbers but I would venture to say that the majority of single mothers don’t come from women who used Artificial Insemination. I going to go as far as to say over 95% of the single moms are a product of male abandonment. Now if anyone has stats to the contrary please let me know the exact numbers. As I said, I am venturing my guess.

His statement: “she cannot hire a dad” brings about the immediate response: just because you have a biological father doesn’t guarantee you a dad either. My friend’s stepfather (who was a wonderful dad) said one time “I think men are around to raise other men’s children”. Father figures come in many loving forms that biology may or may not have a hand in.

"It doesn't help matters," Quayle complained, when Brown, "a character who supposedly epitomizes today's intelligent, highly paid professional woman" is portrayed as "mocking the importance of fathers, by bearing a child alone, and calling it just another 'life-style choice.' "

Read more: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,975627,00.html#ixzz0x4ttasy0

Then there comes the assumption that this is a choice. Well, it’s not really a choice, because if it was a choice, there would be options, choose one:

❒Meet the man of your dreams, get married, have children and live happily ever after

❒Accidentally get pregnant, marry the man and divorce 5 years later

❒Accidentally get pregnant and raise the child alone

❒Get pregnant through ART and raise the child alone

In the great daddy debate I am sure that all single moms if truly given the choice would go with what's behind door #1. In absence of the 1st choice actually being a reality than I would choose (which I did) the 4th option but then again it isn’t really a choice because the other options weren't available. Murphy Brown went with option 3 but once again it was due to the fact that 1, 2 and 4 were not options at the time. So is it a choice? No, it is decision based on being out of options. It’s not like I said “Oh, yes, when I grow up I dream of getting pregnant through IVF and raising my children alone” no, I dreamed of meeting the man of my dreams, getting married, having children and living happily ever after and although painfully difficult I have released the dream of option 1 but my heart, my soul could not give up my dream of becoming a mother. Should a woman give up her dreams of motherhood in order to make sure that she is not mocking the importance of fathers? I wonder if Bill O’Reilly or Dan Quayle would tell their daughters to give up on their dreams?

So, my question is, do shows like Murphy Brown and the movie The Switch glamorize single motherhood and diminish the importance of fathers? Or are they a reflection of what is going on in today’s society? Is art imitating life or will it cause (as the Bill O’Reillys of this world fear) life to imitate art?

Every picture tells a story!

I went to visit my grandmother this weekend. The first thing I noticed was how skinny she is. I hugged her tightly and told her “You look great”. Then my sister chimes in and says “She’s too skinny”. With a quick “knock it off” glance I repeated “You look great!” And then my grandmother even says “You’re not just saying that because everyone tells me I’m too skinny”. “No, I’m not just saying that, you look great!”

Aside from my grandmother being very skinny, another thing you will quickly notice when you go to visit is how immaculate her house is kept. When I say spotless, I mean spotless. It’s unbelievable how clean and organized her home is and her home has always been this way. I can’t recall ever, EVER walking into my grandma’s house and one thing being out of order! It is picture perfect. I often wonder why I didn’t get this gene. As I sit here on my computer working on my blog instead of cleaning my condo I am secretly wishing for the cleaning gene or a cleaning fairy to do the work for me.

I walked around my grandma’s home, looking at all the knick-knacks, dolls (I did get a love for dolls from her and have a beautiful doll collection myself) and pictures. I couldn’t help but marvel at how young we all were in those pictures. Wow, there’s a picture of my father when he was very young, my grandma very young (probably my age now) my sisters, nieces, nephews, there’s me in my high school graduation photo and in each picture, although I know exactly who everyone is, they seem like different people from who they are now. It all seems so long ago. A lifetime ago. Someone else’s lifetime. I feel like I don’t even know the people in those pictures, myself included. Wow, how could so much time have passed? How did I go from a smiling 17 year old full of hope and promise to a 41 year old woman facing her greatest fears? And the one thing noticeably missing, well to me at least, in this collection of family photos, is the pictures of my children. My family is missing. Will my children’s pictures ever find a place in my grandmother’s beautiful home? Will they ever know this amazing woman? The thought that the answer to that question could be no, breaks my heart.

I feel like I’m missing my mantel with my pictures. I am missing my life being told through a collection of photos placed neatly around my house. Photos from my childhood, to my wedding, to the birth of my baby and on and on. I had this picture in my mind of what my life would be like at 40 and now that image has faded and I’m trying to replace it with a new picture, a better picture.

I had a picture in my head of what my grandma would look like when I was older and yes, that picture is different too. So what if she is too skinny, she’s in her 80s and I bet all her life (like me) she’s worried about her weight. So let her be too skinny, just let her be! You’re always something in life: too skinny, too fat, too old, too late etc. And as I sat there holding on to an extra 20lbs gathered nicely around my waist and ass, I looked at my skinny, frail grandmother, her immaculate house, all the photos and I thought so what!!! So what she’s too skinny and so what I’m not! For the 1st time I didn’t care I gained weight. I didn’t care that I wasn’t picture perfect. For the 1st time I’ve completely accepted me for me and I think I look great. And my grandma does too! And if someone had taken a picture of us that day it would have been the perfect picture to show my kids!

Why am I crying over PayPal?

I found a woman online selling her left over IVF meds. This would save me a tremendous (and I mean tremendous) amount of money. All meds are unused, sealed and kept refrigerated. Well, so she says and really isn’t that the way it is with anything you find online, until you see it in person you have to go with how it’s represented online. You have to trust that this person is legit. Well, needless to say when it comes to things online, I have trust issues. I have done the online dating ritual and believe me when I tell you that how it looks online and how it is in person is ALWAYS two different things and NEVER for the better. Plus this is a lot of money. So can you blame a girl for wanting to feel safe and secure with the transaction. You never know. She could have unopened meds, not the right meds or not have any meds at all and is running a scam. You never know and that was the point of my phone call this morning to PayPal. I want to make sure I am protected. So, after a frustrating hour of looking for answers to my questions on their website (I even tried the automated chat and wanted to kill Sarah “the friendly customer service rep” who insisted on just IMing me links back to the FAQ page which I already read from top to bottom) I called PayPal. Now (whew!) I can ask my questions to a live costumer service rep or so I thought. Nope, no such luck, first I have to spend another frustrating 10 minutes (okay I’m exaggerating 5 minutes) with the automated phone system telling me “If you like to hear the main menu say Main Menu” UGHHH they should be illegal! No one should have to talk to a machine! Finally after repeatedly saying “Speak to an agent”, I got a live customer service rep. I proceeded to ask her to please explain to me how PayPal is safe because when I hit Send Money the person I am buying my product from will then have instant access to my money. I want to know how I can make it so it is a pending payment until shipment received. The customer service rep says “They can’t do that. The seller has instant access to the money as soon as you hit send money” so I ask her “How is PayPal then secure? How does PayPal protect me? I don’t really understand how PayPal works.” I’m transferred. As I am waiting to be transferred I can feel that old familiar lump in my throat. The one I get right before I break down and cry or the one I get when I am really starting to get pissed off and I am ready to tell someone off. I’m already fed up right now so the strangle hold on my throat’s gotta be there b/c I’m pissed. I try to swallow it away. New person answers, it’s a guy. I ask him what happens if I send the money and then I don’t get my product from the seller. He says “Oh, I’ll connect you to claims” I tell him I don’t have a claim I’m just wondering how the whole process works and he cuts me off and says that he doesn’t know how to answer my question, claims does and would I like to be transferred to claims and I say (and now I’m really getting hot under the collar)“Well, if you can’t answer a question then please, by all means, transfer me to someone who can!” So finally I get a woman who can answer my question and the answer is basically NO! No, PayPal cannot guarantee that you will receive your package and yes, the seller has immediate access to the money. But if they don’t send me anything I will be reimbursed from PayPal. Oh, okay but what if they don’t send me the correct product or something totally different. Ah, well, PayPal can’t do anything about that, they will only reimburse you if there isn’t proof of an item being sent. I’m like “an item”, “any item” so I tell her “So, you’re telling me they can send me a bottle cap and you can’t help” She says “They won’t reimburse if an item has been sent, even if it was just a bottle cap.” So, then I ask “Then why is PayPal considered safe and secure and why should I use PayPal” I don’t think she ever really answered that question. As I hang up the phone that old familiar lump in my throat the one that was there because I was getting pissed off unmasked itself as really being the one I get when I am about to break down and cry. Which I promptly did! I sat at my computer looking at my PayPal account wondering WHY AM I CRYING OVER PAYPAL?? Wow Leroy’s delay in arrival has really sent me over the edge b/c why else would I be crying over PayPal but I knew in my heart that I wasn’t crying over PayPal. I’m crying over everything. Everything I have been through over the last year and everything I am still going through: TTC alone, the loss of my dream family, creating a new dream family, failed IUIs, failed pregnancy, fertility meds, failed IVF, the unbelievable cost and shouldering all of this alone and yes, even Leroy! Missing Leroy and NOT being pregnant is not fair. So PayPal was just the catalyst or so I thought. After a trip to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and to pee, I discovered the catalyst….Leroy…Yup, good old Leroy and all the emotions he brings along finally made an appearance! It’s funny. I should have known he was knocking on my door when I started crying over PayPal. Oh, and just to let you know, later on while I was getting ready for work, I burnt my finger on my flat iron and that started the water works all over again. It was a welcome home sobfest for Leroy!!

Leroy’s MIA

I am sure there are some of you who are wondering why I call my period Leroy. It all started years ago when I met this spunky, crazy and beautifully girl K. K in all her craziness said to me one day “Leroy’s here” and I was like “Leroy?” and she said “You know, your period, Aunt Flo” and then I said “Why do you call it Leroy?” and she then said she felt that Aunt Flo was outdated, needed a more modern name and then sang a verse of “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” Yes, it’s kinda gross and pretty hysterical at the same time. So, I adopted Leroy. My boyfriend at the time used to say (you can throw in your best NJ accent here!) “You know Leroy…Leroy’s the type of guy you are always happy to see but once he’s around you can’t wait for him to leave!” And at that time it was true. I wasn’t trying to get pregnant and was very happy to see Leroy every month but now….now….well, it’s a whole different story. Leroy’s the type of guy that pisses you off every time you see him. We all know that type of guy, the guy who doesn’t have to do anything, doesn’t have to say anything, all he has to do is show up and you are annoyed! Yup that’s Leroy! Now for all you fellas out there named Leroy I apologize but I promise I will not get upset if you call your constipation Michaela because it’s soooo stubborn!

Now, as annoying as Leroy is, there is one thing Leroy has always been in my life and that is very punctual! Leroy is always on time and when you are TTC that can be a very annoying habit or a very awesome habit depending on where you are in your cycle. If you are in the dreaded 2ww analyzing every symptom, praying that you are pregnant and along comes Leroy right on time! Ugghhh you just want to hit that guy! But if you are waiting for Leroy to come along so you can start your next cycle and he comes strutting along exactly when he’s expected, you are not only so glad to see him but very grateful he is so consistent. Well, that is where I am now. Waiting to cycle. So on July 31st I was expecting Leroy at his usual time and he didn’t show up. Hmmm, that’s not like Leroy. I waited a day. Day 2 no Leroy. I started thinking about my little tryst with my Friend with Benefits (yes, I am single but I am not dead! A girl’s gotta eat and this is a very dear friend) hmmm, we weren’t “that” careful but that would be a stretch. If Dr. Doom gave me a practically 0% chance with an IUI then this would have to be like a -10% chance but still I started analyzing every little symptom that I might have and of course making most of them up in my head. That is classic 2ww behavior. Then the groping of the boobs ritual starts. Boobs not sore. Day 3 no Leroy. Still groping myself. Hmm, Boobs still not sore. I take a HPT and its negative. It could still be early I tell myself. The am I pregnant, I’m not pregnant crazy train leaves the station. More groping. Day 5 no Leroy. I take another HPT and it is negative again. Okay so now I am a little freaked out! Where’s Leroy? I keep telling myself I have to stop groping myself but until Leroy shows up what’s a girl to do? And not only that, did I mention that Leroy is ALWAYS punctual!! The only time Leroy has not been punctual is when I was pregnant so I ask again WHERE IS LEROY?? All of the sudden it is like I have lost my best friend. It would be one thing if I knew why Leroy wasn’t coming but I don’t. I’m not pregnant so why, now of all times, when I am getting ready to start my 2nd IVF cycle is Leroy a no show! God it’s just like Leroy…whether he’s here or not he’s in some way pissing you off.

Well, the saga of where’s Leroy continues as I get ready to go to sleep I am pretty sure I am going to wake up on Day 6 without Leroy. Come on Leroy! I actually miss you!

Where I should be now…

Quick note: I added an Acronym List at the bottom on the left hand side to help you with all those abbreviations that us TTC (look it up) gals like to use!

One of the girls on my fertility board wrote how she is having a hard time looking forward because she can’t help but focus on where she “should be” now. That comment really made me think of where I am now and where I “should be" now. Not only in terms of my TTC (because I always think about that) but also in other aspects of my life: where I “should be” now in regards to my career, a home and of course a family. Where I “should be” now as opposed to where I am now. Wow if someone had told me 20 years ago that at 41 I would be single, starting my own software company (first of all 20 years ago I would have been like WTF is software!), working in a bar, no children, no husband and TTC using donor sperm…if someone had told me that is where I would be now… I would have told them they were out of their mind and then politely (I say that sarcastically) tell them where I would be in my life and then tell them exactly where they could go. Ahhh, but times have changed. I don’t tell as many people off as I used to! Maybe I’ve softened, maybe I don’t care as much as I used to or maybe my life is nowhere near where I thought it “should be” that my focus is on trying to accept where I am.

My career

The where I “should be” in my career. My career now or the career I thought I would have? Well, I thought I “should be” an actress. I went to a 3 year acting conservatory in Manhattan, I was good and I spent many discouraging years in the city with very limited success. So, I decided to change my idea of where I “should be” in regards to my career and went back to school to become a computer programmer which leads me to where I am now, running my own software company and supplementing my income by bartending…hmm… I’m not unhappy about where I am today but can honestly say I never saw that one coming!

My home

This is the one area that the where I am now and where I “should be” now don’t really bother me that much. I “should be” living in a house with a beautiful backyard, possibly a pool, with a swing set and a fort (yes, a fort and it’s for me not my children). Where I am today is living in a beautiful condo (even though it’s a one bedroom I will convert the dining room into the baby’s room), with maintenance (meaning they shovel the snow) and a swimming pool. I like it!

My family

Now this is where it really starts to go off course. Where I “should be” now is married to a wonderful, witty, man who adores me and we have two beautiful, well-behaved children. Or at the very least I “should be” divorced from the idiot I married against my better judgment, raising our 2 kids alone, bitching about how he’s late with the child support and doesn’t see the kid’s as often as he could…wait a minute…hold the phone…that is one of the reasons I am single because I actually used my better judgment and didn’t get married so let’s just keep it to: I “should be” married to a wonderful, witty, man who adores me and we have two beautiful, well behaved children. The End.

My journey

Well if the above was true there really wouldn’t be a “should be” in regards of TTC but since I am not married to a wonderful, witty, man who adores me and we have two beautiful, well-behaved children, the where I “should be” now, the “should be” my friend expressed on the fertility board, is simple, I “should be” 27 weeks pregnant. That “should be” I try so hard not to focus on, I try so hard to put it out of my mind but it is always there. And everyday there’s something that brings it right back to the front of my mind: the girls on my fertility board getting their BFPs, or their tickers stating “I’m 12 weeks along”, “I’m 20 weeks along”, “My EDD is mm/dd/yyyy”. Mine was 10/31/2010. And yes, I am truly happy for them, this isn’t about negating their journey or their happiness but it’s just like the old saying goes: “I am happy for them but sad for me” and it’s not only on my fertility board it’s everywhere. When I talk on the phone to my BFF and her newborn is crying in the background and she’s exhausted from chasing around her 1 year old and all I keep thinking is I “should be” getting ready to welcome my little bundle of exhaustion into my life or what I wouldn’t give to be that exhausted. And I know it’s all relevant; if the shoe were on the other foot (ahhhh, but what if my shoe was on someone else’s foot. Now, that would be a relief). And it’s on Facebook “Did you see so and so is on Facebook now? Yeah, he’s married and his wife is pregnant.” There are baby pictures and family pictures everywhere on Facebook. It’s just a constant reminder of the where I “should be” now. Even when a friend tells me “I’m 7 days late but it’s okay b/c I’ve been late before. I just wish I wasn’t so tired and I think I have the flu”. Well that’s funny b/c it sounds like you’re pregnant to me. Something I’m not and something I definitely “should be” now. I “should be” 27 weeks pregnant and that is where I want to be now. Is it hard looking forward without focusing on the where I “should be” now? Yes, but the funny thing is the more I think about it the more I know that is where I will be soon. It’s actually, finally gotten me excited about trying again. Excited about starting my cycle, my shots and eventually my 2ww (I’m a glutton for punishment) because I know that the where I “should be” now and the where I am now will one day become one in the same.

EXPOSED – No shoes, No shirt, No service…It’s funny,they never said anything about no pants!

I said to a friend the other day while talking about my journey:

“I’ve had so many people looking at my whoo-haa over the last year, I don’t even know why I bother showing up with pants on”

Of course we laughed but then it got me thinking about how I was at the beginning of this journey and how I am now. Who I talked to and who I kept it a secret from, the hours I cried, the constant doctor visits, the rollercoaster of emotions, how I was completely devastated after my first doctor (I call him Dr. Doom) diagnosed me with DOR (diminished ovarian reserve) and said to me “You have a practically 0% chance of conceiving with your own eggs” and how unbelievably ecstatic I was to prove him wrong and get pregnant on my 4th IUI (Intrauterine Insemination or Artificial Insemination. I promise to get an acronym list up soon!). From my miscarriage which no words can express how painful that loss is to my renewed hope b/c of Dr. Wow and IVF, from how I am right now full of fight and determination compared to how I felt 2 weeks ago feeling completely lost when my first IVF cycle failed.

Even my sheer modesty at the beginning is somewhat laughable. I remember changing in the bathroom for one of my exams, of course this was at the beginning of my journey, and carefully wrapping the ever so popular (and flimsy) pink paper (I don’t know what you call it) sheet (?) around my waist so that absolutely every part of me below the waist was covered. I placed the opening to the side so that the “private parts” my butt and whoo-haa where completely covered and I then (without thinking) quickly bent down to pick up my clothes off the bathroom floor and RIPPPPP!!! Yup, ripped the whole back out of my lovely pink, paper sheet and now my a&% was getting cold and if I tried to turn the sheet around my whoo-haa would be saying hello! And as I walked out of the bathroom to the exam table I was still trying to hold up this tattered piece of paper to make sure everything was covered! Today, me today…I don’t even bring the pink doily (yup I now call it a doily b/c that thing keeps getting smaller and smaller or my a&% is getting bigger and bigger but that’s another story)…I don’t even bring the pink doily into the bathroom with me anymore. I go in, pee, strip, come out (naked from the waist down…oh how I hate that phrase), sit on the edge (cause you always have to be on the very edge) of the table and just drape my pink doily over my lap. No muss no fuss and to be quite honest it would even bother me if someone accidently walked in while I was exposing myself from the waist down as I sauntered from the bathroom to the exam table. They are going to get a very up close and personal view of my downtown area soon enough…so why bother. And you see, that’s kinda the point. Over the last couple of months I have told everyone about my journey. It started with a video to Oprah and I figured if you are trying to put something on Oprah the whole world is going to find out sooner or later anyway. So, I put it on Facebook and I started a blog and boy does that feel good. I’m walking around with no pants on and I’m enjoying every minute of it. The questions don’t bother me. If I can help someone along the way then ask away!!

So, the bottom line is (yes, pun intended!)I’ve exposed myself in so many ways over the last couple of months that it’s refreshing to be able to saunter around with your pants off than trying to carefully cover everything up.



PS - For those of you who haven’t seen my Oprah video…here’s a link! My Oprah Video

Recap of the last few days: A fortune teller, Dr. What?, Dr. Wow, and a Speedo!

This post is going to be a somewhat long in order for me to give you a little recap of what’s been happening over the last few days…

“The last time we saw our caped crusader…” It can’t be crusaders b/c I haven’t found my partner in crime (or should I say crime fighting) yet…“The last we saw our caped crusader. She put on the perfect dress and headed off to an Arabian Nights party”

What did the fortune teller say?

So, at V’s Arabian Nights party she had this fortune teller there and I decided to get a reading. The fortune teller read your crystals, tarot cards and palm. While she was reading my crystals it came out that I was TTC so she told me which crystal I needed to get to help with getting pregnant. Now for all you TTC ladies it's Howlite in case you were screaming at the computer screen “I need that crystal too! She’d better not withhold that information!” :) So then the fortune teller went on to read my tarot cards. Now for those of you who don’t know, I also read the tarot cards (and yes, I will read yours but you have to come to NJ) so I always really scrutinize a tarot card reading.Well she definitely set out her cards differently than I do and she has a mixture of tarot cards and angel cards in the deck. As she started flipping over each card she first said October, then she said October 18^th and then she said male…wide eyed I’m still looking at her. She gathers all the cards together and says that I will find out that I am pregnant on October 18^th and it will be a boy….WOW!! I have never had a fortune teller be that specific with at date!! But the WOW factor was about to double when she started reading my palm. She said the usual “Life Line, Love Line stuff” and then she was looking at the area between my thumb and pointer finger. You know that stretchy, mushy area and she kept moving my thumb from side to side and then said to me "It looks like one of your ovaries isn't working" Double WOW! There is no way should could know that I was having no response (plus cysts) on my left ovary and then she also said that she feels that I will get pregnant once that ovary starts working again...Triple WOW b/c the cycle I got pregnant on is the only cycle that I produced on my left side....how weird is that!! Well, now I have to tell my Herbalist/Acupuncturist he needs to work on my left ovary.

Which brings me to Dr. What?

I decided to look into adding herbs to my TTC supplement regime. I went to a man who is a 5^th generation Taoist. Needless to say there is something about really old Chinese men that make you think they hold all the answers. I am very pleased with Dr. Wang. What? His name is Dr. Wang…tee hee...tee hee! I know it’s juvenile but I can’t help giggling at his name. I posted this on the Fertile Thoughts board and one of the other girls writes back that her RE’s name is Dr. Cummings!! LOL!! Okay so now I’m really giggling like an 8^th grader! So I decided whenever this journey starts to get me down, all I will do is think “Wang and Cummings!” And the first place I will put that to use will by my appointment with Dr. Peters (formerly known as Dr. Wow but I am waiting for the results of my meeting with him to decide whether or not he has regained that title)!

My meeting with Dr. Wow…and yes, he’s regained the title!

The meeting with Dr. Peters was good. I have to say even though I kept repeating the mantra “Wang and Cummings” I was still angry when I walked into that meeting. After going through one month, 44 shots and an ER (egg retrieval), only to have the cycle fail before I even got an ET (egg transfer) was devastating! I felt robbed and I was going to let Dr. Peters know that! Well, we did have the 3 day vs 5 day transfer debate and he still strongly feels that the only way to go is with the 5 day transfer even though none of my embryos made it for a 5 day transfer. Just a little “411”, 5 day transfers are considered risky b/c there is a chance none of the embryos will make it and of course mine didn’t. I am a poster child for Murphy’s Law. I of course argued that we should have done a 3 day transfer and he still strongly believes that if they had transferred on day 3 I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. But in the end he said he will do a 3 day transfer for me next time. Then he went on to say that he felt my cycle was good for my age and FSH levels. He said that a lot of times they have a hard time even getting 2 eggs from women with my stats so that made me happy. He felt that I should definitely try again and went on to say how his goal is to get me pregnant. Once again that made me very happy! We are going to try again in the September cycle. I wanted to start in August but he said they like you to have 1 full period before starting again and they don't count the period you get right after the ER and ET... he feels that isn't a real period since it's basically from all the meds...I guess it's good b/c you can clean your body out. I will call them when I get my period in August and they will then put my on BCPs (birth control pills) and schedule my cycle. It is making me a little crazy and a little sad that I can't start right away but I am going to trust Dr. Wow...there's just something about him that's so comforting and I just think he's amazing. Hmmm...I might have a little crush!

Up at the pool swimming laps…Holy Wang I didn’t see that Cumming!!!

After a long weekend, emotional meeting and work (yes, in the middle of all this I still find time to work) I decided to head up to the pool and swim some laps. As I was gliding back and forth across the length of the pool I started thinking about the fortune teller and what she said about October, my crush on Dr. Wow and my cycle in September and started to realize that if I cycle in September than it wouldn’t be until the first week or two of October that I would find out if I’m pregnant….What? Could that be true? Could the fortune teller be right? As I put 2 and 2 together I surface from under the refreshing blue water to see a man standing in front of me at the edge of the pool and no, this isn’t the movies, so it wasn’t the man of my dreams, or Dr. Wow the man of my crush…it was a really old man with leathery tanned skin in a speedo! And all I could think of was “Wang and Cummings!”