Just as Sane as I Am

Let me begin by thanking you, dear readers. I can't believe how many of you are still slogging through this muck with me. And that, despite how cracked out I sound at times, you're still supporting me. It's humbling. It's beautiful to know that, when you're at your lowest, your friends can swarm to support you. Moving on. Over the weekend, I had a bunch of questions about what was going to happen next. I have a sharps container that's filling up; where does that go? What do I do with this shit ton of medication I have left over taking up room in my fridge? More importantly, I'm preemptively worrying about progesterone. I know it's a hormone that everyone who goes through any fertility process has to take in some form. A lot of times, and probably what it will end up being for me, it's painful injections. They're different from the last ones I took; those just went anywhere in your stomach, where as progesterone is intramuscular. It's al...

Warning: this entry gets a little judgey at times. Please try not to think less of me. If you think you'll hate how judgey I am, just skip it. Thanks. Today (Sunday the 25) is the first time I feel I can breathe in the last two weeks. Granted, I did just cover my ears while on a train to NYC because there are some small children sitting in front of me and a woman behind me telling her friend that her son is expecting and isn’t that exciting and it’s so wonderful that she’s going to be a grandmother. And at breakfast this morning we sat next to a couple and their infant, noticed that they just shoved a phone in the kid’s face and didn’t talk to him, and then, when the female half of the couple stood up, saw that she had a large baby bump. (Not that I’m judging people who use their phones to entertain their kids. Except I am. Sorry if that’s you. It’s not what I plan on doing. I work with too many 13 year old kids who can’t have a conversation since all they know how to do is use t...

Hands down. Longest, most stressful, most eventful week of my life. Two weeks. We can count from the decision to even go with IVF Tuesday the 6.  This past Tuesday, I got up early and went in for my blood test and ultra sound. I was sad. It was like admitting defeat. Right, my body won’t let me make a baby with my partner of 15 years. And we’re literally the most perfect couple in existence. Not to toot my own horn or anything. I had a different phlebotomist, Rich, and thankfully he was amazing. Got it in one. That was a small miracle. I cried through my ultrasound. Doctor said everything looked good. As long as my medication came and my blood test came back normal, then yes, I could get started that night.  Of course, because of how fast this all happened, I didn’t even know what the prescribed medication was or how to take it. My doctor had a nurse who’s not mine meet with me. She seemed unhappy with me that I hadn’t read my calendar or watched my videos that I...

Today. Today was a day that I can't even believe happened. I'm sitting on the couch wondering who was punking me and whether or not today will show up reality TV at some point. It certainly feels like it. My IVF cycle is scheduled to start TOMORROW. I found out that it was going to happen just six days ago, and now it's here. This has moved so quickly it's unbelievable. Thanks, Mother Nature! What has happened since Saturday night: I got my period on Saturday at 5pm. I need to go get monitored on Day 3 of my cycle. When you get it at 5pm, is that day 1 or not? Would I need to go in on Monday or Tuesday? This would make a difference because of the copious amounts of hormones I will need to take, both through pills and shots (that I'm going to have to administer myself). They have to be shipped from a pharmacy in Massachusetts, and I'm not sure they'd be able to get here in time to start treatment on Monday. (This is recap. Sorry.) Spoke to someone...

You know what the craziest part is? I don't even like babies. I mean, they're cute and all. I can appreciate that. But I do not  believe in cooing over them like they're adorable cats or dogs. I'll save that for cats and dogs . I refuse  to speak to babies in baby talk. People tell me that's truly for the best, but most others don't adhere to it. No, I'm the weirdo for looking a baby in the face and saying, "Hey kid. What's up?" I'm an only child. No younger siblings that I took care of. No first cousins. No friends with baby siblings when I was growing up. No baby sitting experience. When coworkers or whomever shows up somewhere with their babies, other women flock to them and grab them and throw them up in the air and kiss their cheeks and smile stupidly. I hang in the background and smile awkardly and say, "Oh, s/he's adorable." That's the extent of my show of how cute babies are. I don't know how to chang...

11/6/18 - 11/8/18 I was supremely disappointed in the movie American Hustle.  But even at that, Jon and I still quote one of Jennifer Lawrence’s lines at each other or years later. “It’s a science of an! It cooks shit!”  She, of course, was talking about a microwave. Well, my uterus is about to become a science oven.  Yes, I spoke to my doctor recently, and we came up with our “follow up plan.”  It’s something we were all thought about  in middle school health class that sounded kind of crazy. It always seem to me like so far away, something that only desperate people would ever need.  I guess I officially qualify as desperate. So options when you're going through the kind of infertility nonsense that we are are IUI (artifical insemination) or IVF (in vetro fertilization). IUI has a lower success rate, but a lot of health insurance companies require you to have a few rounds of this done first as it's less costly and invasive. When I first started ...