Keeping My Head Out of the Stove...While Waiting For a Bun in the Oven

Movin' on up to the East Side...

2010-04-22T21:35:00.005-04:00

It's been almost a year since I wrote my first blog here...and it's been an interesting one. I survived baby showers, pregnancy announcements, and the general merriment that is being infertile.

I haven't written for a while, and I think that's because it was hard for me to spend so much time focusing on the fact that my belly was still flat, despite my best efforts otherwise. So this is my last post on my infertility blog.

But that doesn't mean I've given up blogging! Nope, I've made like the Jefferson's and moved to Manhattan - in the blogosphere that is. I've started a travel blog about New York City, and I hope you'll all check it out: wheninnyc.wordpress.com

And I hope all of you out there hoping for a baby get pregnant very, VERY soon :-)

All the best!
Sandra

Life is good...

2009-09-19T21:20:00.002-04:00

First of all I'd like to welcome my new followers! Thanks for following, and I promise I'm not usually this lax with my postings. :-) I'm sure you've probably read about Beatrice, who is currently sitting at the end of the bed, whining and trying to get onto the floor. That's when she isn't trying to jump on my keyboard. (okay, so we have some training to do).

I've made a vow to write more despite her efforts to tire me out with endless games of fetch, long walks in the park and general merriment. She won't break me, no matter how hard she tries.

The funny thing is that whenever I have these big gaps in my postings, I'm worried that my friends who read my blog will think I'm pregnant and just laying low. I wouldn't want to get their hopes up. So no, still not preggers. In fact, I just finished my period.

The good news is that the mainly meatless diet my naturopath suggested seems to be working! I feel much better overall, and the nasty AF cramps I've had ever since I took those few doses of fertility pills have finally disappeared! No more waking up in the middle of the night to search for Advil, no more wanting to curl up in the fetal position under my desk at work, and no more worries that I've done irrevocable damage. Just AF and nothing but AF.

In related news, I broke it off with Dr. Lunge. He's a really nice fertility specialist and everything, but this relationship just isn't going anywhere. Every time I go on one of our"dates" he makes me take yet another blood test, which tells me the same thing it always does - that my hormones are basically fine.

He's just not getting the hint, so I made a clean break and cancelled my appointment with him this Thursday. I hope he doesn't get all needy on me and start leaving messages on my cell phone telling me how much he loves my uterus or anything crazy like that. I don't know how I would handle it.

Other than that, I'm so stoked it's Sunday tomorrow and the only plans I have so far is sushi for dinner with DH's sister and hubby. Life is good...

Shocker!

2009-09-02T22:11:00.004-04:00

I just found out a friend is pregnant. And I don't feel horrible. I didn't cry. I didn't even whimper. When my hubby told me, I just said: "Wow. I always thought they'd have 3 kids." And I did.

You want to know why I'm so calm? Because I'm tired of it. I'm tired of all of it - of worrying about if I'll get pregnant, and when we should be having sex, and how my hormone levels are. I'm tired of sitting in the dr.'s office once a month for a two-second meeting only to find out, yup, I'm still infertile. I'm tired of feeling guilty for thinking I haven't done enough to make things happen. And mostly, I'm tired of how negative it all makes me feel.

I want to be positive about my future. My DH is awesome, our two cats and Beatrice are finally getting along (okay - so maybe the little cat still wants to scratch Bee's eyes out, but the big guy is okay). I started working on some future career plans (I'll save those for another post) and I'm also hoping to go to Greece next summer with my family.

Maybe I'm going through a stage and I'm just bottling up all my infertility emotions. Maybe I'll get back from my trip to Greece and be even more devastated. But at least I'll have one hell of a tan...

Infertility sensitivity training manual - Part 6

2009-08-28T21:34:00.005-04:00

After two hours of play time with her best friend "Buddi" my little Bee is finally asleep. So I've snuck off to get the next instalment of the infertility sensitivity training manual posted. If you've got more, feel free to send them along!

New additions to the list:

(1) From Fertility Chick: I would say that if you are aware of my IF issues and about to announce your good news to the entire world (be it at a party or whatever) could you at least give me a quiet heads up beforehand?? Trying to smile when both completely caught off guard and feeling like you've been kicked in the gut is not easy!!

(2) From Jay: When your mother starts coming up with solutions to your IF the DAY after your first IVF failure, tell her to shut up!!! I would say to tell her to shut up nicely, BUT when you are pumped full of the IVF 'mones, there is no way of being diplomatic!

(3) From my friend S.: Please add this to the infertility sensitivity training manual: women who bring their babies to the fertility clinic – their cute, adorable babies who make you feel even worse because you don’t have one of your own. Further, women who bring their babies to the clinic and tell waiting patients “oh she was born because of this wonderful clinic, if anything she could be an inspiration to you!” – ah thanks lady, flaunt your success in my face why don’t you!

Previous suggestions:

(1) From Mad Hatter: I have a special one for employers who might be guessing that one is TTC - DON'T offer to put off a big project we're working on for another year. I got that the other day. (sigh)

(2) From Jay: I love when a pregnant friend is complaining about x,y,z and they go, "just wait until your pregnant, you'll see." And the friend KNOWS you are infertile...Ok, really? It is getting more unlikely by the day of ME getting pregnant. IF you must complain, save me the speech about MY someday!!!Unless you are trained in the art of crystal ball reading.

(3) From StillHopeful: After my second IVF failed, a close relative said, "Well, it must not have been meant to be, everything happens for a reason". Oh, so you're saying that I'm not cut out to be a mother?

(4) From Fuzzyhead: I don't think Fertiles should act shocked when Infertiles choose to talk about Their Problem. I told everybody and their dog about my infertiity, because it really did define my life for 3 years. It coloured everything. Yet my MIL was shocked that I told anyone (and if she had known what a blog was, she'd have been shocked I blogged about it.) She thought I should have kept it private. I chose the opposite, in part because: what's the point of being ashamed about life handing you a pile of poo that you didn't ask for? And also because the world could use some edu-macating about this stuff.

(5) From Michele: Do not tell an expectant parent who has lost a child that God is replacing that child/children, that things will be okay because the other child died, and things along that line. If one more person says that i should feel better because i'm pregnant again and "things will be fine" I will scream. Or perhaps explode. You can't replace a baby with another. They aren't books or cars. They are people.

(6) From Fran: Do not tell us: "you know, I thought I was infertile, then I came to terms with it and fell pregnant". Mmmhh I see...I know she means well, but come on, we are two an half year into this hell and I know very well that I didn't feel that desperate after only three months.

(7) From Best when used by: It's not okay to ask your infertile friend/relative EVERY time you see her whether she is pregnant yet, still trying, having enough sex, comment on how fun it must be to "practice" or say, "Stop thinking about it and it will happen."

(8) From Melissa: Amen on the are you pregnant yet question. Dear god, I wouldn't tell you if I were for at least the first trimester.

Previous no-no's:

(1) Do not: Tell me that I should be happy with what I have. I had a really hard day on Tuesday for several reasons that I'll vent about later. But my DH felt the need to point out that I was loved, and healthy (if infertility can't be counted as an illness) and have a full life ahead of me (unless I chose death by chocolate of course). My mum also does this to me, and I just hate it. While they're at it, they might as well tell me to finish my brussel sprouts because there are kids starving in Africa (incidentally, I was born in Africa so this one might actually work on me).

(2) Do not: ask me if there is anything 'new' going on. I recently called a friend of mine whose wife had a baby. We hadn't talked in a while, and he had the nerve to ask me what was new. I may just be in that 'dark' place but I felt like he was digging for info. He knows I'm barren - sheesh! 'Just the puppy,' I said trying to sound nice and bright and not a tad maniacal. (this was the same woman whose baby shower I attended with the hecklers).

(3) Do not: Send us pregnancy announcements by email without a warning first - unless you are 100% sure we are going to be at home when we pick it up.

Amendment 3A: As an amendment to this rule, Optimistically Hopeful said: My personal preference for pregnancy announcements would be e-mail, NOT the phone. It's so much easier for me to read an e-mail and be able to deal with it on my own terms and timeline than to be on the phone with someone and feel like I have to come up with an appropriate response.

(4) Do not: Talk about how horrible it is to be pregnant. You might think we are grateful to hear how we don't have to suffer with stretch marks, pregnancy acne and hemorrhoids, but what we're really thinking is "Get the preparation H ready!"

(5) Do not: Give us "knowing" looks when we pass on wine, beer, liquor and coffee. It's no secret. Sometimes we just want a diet coke.

(6) Do not: Make comments like "you don't know what it's like to be a parent." Ouch. This one's obvious, but it's happened to me before so I thought I should include it.

(7) Never say: You should just enjoy all the great sex (and this was from my mother). Who is she kidding? As I mentioned in my first blog, one of my fertility-challenged friends told me her husband actually said: "I don't even know if I like sex anymore." Doesn't that sound like good times?

Blame Beatrice!

2009-08-26T11:31:00.003-04:00

I just opened an email from a friend asking why I hadn't posted in a long time. It's pretty simple really - she's cute, she's furry, and she's got more energy than I can handle. Yup, Miss Beatrice is earning her nickname of "Nutty McNutty" by keeping me and DH running around morning, noon, and most of the night.

Here is my new puppy schedule:

6:30 - get up. Feed the cats. Get the puppy outside for a pee.
6:45 - make breakfast (really enjoying my protein shakes recommended by the naturopath)
7 - give Bee her breakfast
7:15 - hand her over to Jamie while I get ready. He takes her for a drive to get a coffee and then a run in the park
8:15 - off to work
11:45 to 1:15 - I arrive home to get her out again (unless Jamie can come home, and I can selfishly enjoy an hour lunch with friends at work :-) - I REALLY enjoy these days now)
1:15 - back to work
Around 5 - arrive home to get puppy out, unless Jamie has already done that.
5:30 - play with Beatrice for half an hour in the backyard while either I or DH gets dinner ready.
6 - wolf down dinner while Beatrice watches us through the sliding door off the deck (or while she harasses the cat, causing a hissing fit under the kitchen table - ahhhh, so relaxing)
6:30 - 7:30 - Take Beatrice off for a walk, usually somewhere there are people because she could really care to just "walk" - she is so people motivated that we either let her follow someone or end up dragging her for half the walk
7:30 - give Bee her dinner
7:31 - Play catch and pray she needs a nap so we can get a few things done.
8 - collapse in front of television
8:30 - Take Bee back to stop her from running around the house like a maniac
9 - hand her off to Jamie if possible to get a few house chores done
10 - stumble into bed

So there you have it, craziness thanks to nutty mcnutty. But even so, I really do miss posting. So I'm vowing to get back into it. I still need to update the Infertility Sensitivity Manual (received a few more suggestions) and a few other interesting tidbits.

Well, that wasn't so hard. I'm sure I can find a few minutes here and there. Oops - time to get Beatrice up for lunch. And so it begins again...

Beatrice and her new best friend

2009-08-07T09:26:00.008-04:00

It's funny but I have so many friends right now around my age who don't have kids. I've never really asked why they don't have kids (the friendships aren't at that point yet). But it does make it easier to socialize.

Last night, DH and I went to a friend's house to hang out with her and her husband - and of course to watch our two crazy puppies play. Buddi is super cute. She is a cocker spaniel x cairn terrier (although she looks more like "eddie" from Frasier).

Beatrice is definitely a people puppy, but she LOVES Buddi. They played for about 3 hours straight. It was awesome. This is a picture of them playing with Buddi's octopus.

As you can see, Beatrice is a bit puffier than before! - thanks for the suggestions everyone on how to get the groomer to chill out a bit with the comb :-)

Tonight we're hanging out with another friend of mine who doesn't have kids. They have a cottage about half an hour away, so we're going up for a few hours with Beatrice. They have a Labrador Retriever, so she'll have a much bigger play date!

Maybe there is a huge community out there of infertiles with dogs?

Whey better!

2009-08-06T12:53:00.004-04:00

I can't believe it's been more than 2 weeks since I posted anything! Life has been good, just busy. I'm off work this week to get things done around the house (woo-hoo!). The puppy is getting bigger. She grew even more today when I took her for her first groom. They made her head into a huge puffball! I do not like it at all - but we're going for a puppy play date tonight so after a few rolls in the mud with Buddi she should go back to looking like the crazy curly puppy I know and love.

On the fertility front, I went for my first appointment with a naturopath. It was fantastic. She thinks I have estrogen dominance and now I'm on a super healthy (mainly vegetarian) diet. She also recommended some whey protein powder for shakes in the morning. Very tasty with some fruit and soy milk. I've had other protein shakes before and could barely get them down. So I'm happy to report this one is super tasty (and super expensive! $50 for one tub). I still need to pick up some specialty items like flax seeds and special granola bars. But I should be on my way to better health in no time!

In other changes, we had a realtor come by to assess our house this week. We may have been able to get the bottom end of a price I would like, but I'm really not sure it's worth it right now. It still just the two of us (plus cats and dog) so it's not like we need more room. And we love our neighbours. Plus, I'm not sure I want to take on more mortgage right now. I'm looking into some different career options, and it's hard to say if I'll get more salary or less.

Speaking of salaries, I'm interviewing for a job closer to home. I'm not head over heels for it, but it does have some nice perks, like 100% dental and shutdown over x-mas. Plus, I'm just so bored at work right not that a break might be just as good as a change. We'll see what happens.

Overall, feeling pretty good. Hope everyone else is doing well. I need to catch up!

I'd also like to welcome my new followers, and thank Fran for the Honest Scrap Award. Much appreciated :-)

Infertility sensitivity training manual - Part 5

2009-07-21T21:45:00.004-04:00

The Infertility Sensitivity Training Manual has grown again! Here are a few more suggestions I know we can all relate to:

(1) From Mad Hatter: I have a special one for employers who might be guessing that one is TTC - DON'T offer to put off a big project we're working on for another year. I got that the other day. (sigh)

(2) From Jay: I love when a pregnant friend is complaining about x,y,z and they go, "just wait until your pregnant, you'll see." And the friend KNOWS you are infertile...Ok, really? It is getting more unlikely by the day of ME getting pregnant. IF you must complain, save me the speech about MY someday!!!Unless you are trained in the art of crystal ball reading.

Previous no-no's:

(1) Do not: Tell me that I should be happy with what I have. I had a really hard day on Tuesday for several reasons that I'll vent about later. But my DH felt the need to point out that I was loved, and healthy (if infertility can't be counted as an illness) and have a full life ahead of me (unless I chose death by chocolate of course). My mum also does this to me, and I just hate it. While they're at it, they might as well tell me to finish my brussel sprouts because there are kids starving in Africa (incidentally, I was born in Africa so this one might actually work on me).

(2) Do not: ask me if there is anything 'new' going on. I recently called a friend of mine whose wife had a baby. We hadn't talked in a while, and he had the nerve to ask me what was new. I may just be in that 'dark' place but I felt like he was digging for info. He knows I'm barren - sheesh! 'Just the puppy,' I said trying to sound nice and bright and not a tad maniacal. (this was the same woman whose baby shower I attended with the hecklers).

(3) Do not: Send us pregnancy announcements by email without a warning first - unless you are 100% sure we are going to be at home when we pick it up.

Amendment 3A: As an amendment to this rule, Optimistically Hopeful said: My personal preference for pregnancy announcements would be e-mail, NOT the phone. It's so much easier for me to read an e-mail and be able to deal with it on my own terms and timeline than to be on the phone with someone and feel like I have to come up with an appropriate response.

(4) Do not: Talk about how horrible it is to be pregnant. You might think we are grateful to hear how we don't have to suffer with stretch marks, pregnancy acne and hemorrhoids, but what we're really thinking is "Get the preparation H ready!"

(5) Do not: Give us "knowing" looks when we pass on wine, beer, liquor and coffee. It's no secret. Sometimes we just want a diet coke. (4) Do not: Make comments like "you don't know what it's like to be a parent." Ouch. This one's obvious, but it's happened to me before so I thought I should include it.

(6) Never say: You should just enjoy all the great sex (and this was from my mother). Who is she kidding? As I mentioned in my first blog, one of my fertility-challenged friends told me her husband actually said: "I don't even know if I like sex anymore." Doesn't that sound like good times?

Here are the suggestions I have received so far:

(1) From StillHopeful: After my second IVF failed, a close relative said, "Well, it must not have been meant to be, everything happens for a reason". Oh, so you're saying that I'm not cut out to be a mother?

(2) From Fuzzyhead: I don't think Fertiles should act shocked when Infertiles choose to talk about Their Problem. I told everybody and their dog about my infertiity, because it really did define my life for 3 years. It coloured everything. Yet my MIL was shocked that I told anyone (and if she had known what a blog was, she'd have been shocked I blogged about it.) She thought I should have kept it private. I chose the opposite, in part because: what's the point of being ashamed about life handing you a pile of poo that you didn't ask for? And also because the world could use some edu-macating about this stuff.

(3) From Michele: Do not tell an expectant parent who has lost a child that God is replacing that child/children, that things will be okay because the other child died, and things along that line. If one more person says that i should feel better because i'm pregnant again and "things will be fine" I will scream. Or perhaps explode. You can't replace a baby with another. They aren't books or cars. They are people.

(4) From Fran: Do not tell us: "you know, I thought I was infertile, then I came to terms with it and fell pregnant". Mmmhh I see...I know she means well, but come on, we are two an half year into this hell and I know very well that I didn't feel that desperate after only three months.

(5) From Best when used by: It's not okay to ask your infertile friend/relative EVERY time you see her whether she is pregnant yet, still trying, having enough sex, comment on how fun it must be to "practice" or say, "Stop thinking about it and it will happen."

(6) From Melissa: Amen on the are you pregnant yet question. Dear god, I wouldn't tell you if I were for at least the first trimester.

Flea market update

2009-07-19T13:54:00.003-04:00

I'm starting to understand why MJ covered his baby in a blanket. The flea market was awesome - but exhausting! After about two hours, I wanted to put Beatrice in my jacket and zip it up just so I could get a break from the oohing and aahing.

Don't get me wrong - I think it was fantastic. She was great with all the people and the dogs, but it's hard to talk about anyone for two hours - even someone as cute as she is :)

As for the girls, they all ended up with great purchases. Two of them have to go back next week to pick theirs up because they were too big to fit into their car. I ended up with honey - not very exciting but it wasn't the "stroll and shop" kind of day it normally is. And that's okay too. It was all for the benefit of the new puppy.

There was only one 6'5'' guy who kind of creeped me out. He wanted to hold her forever, and even sat near us on the patio at lunch. Cree-eepy. But our gang kept her safe. And now she's peacefully asleep - and I can enjoy some blog time... ahhhhh....

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And welcome to BumpBlogger!

Binding Beatrice to me

2009-07-19T07:54:00.003-04:00

In "The Sopranos", Tony tries to "bind" Christopher to him to ensure loyalty to the "family." It mainly involved getting him to run numbers, hustle drugs and whack people.

My DH and I have also started the process of "binding" Beatrice to our family - of course, our methods are a little different. We've been asking her to run around our backyard, fetch plastic bones and stop biting our kneecaps (or ankles, fingers, pants etc.). DH further binded Beatrice to him on Thursday when they watched football together (I think he's definitely in love now).

Today is another big test for her. I'm taking her to an antique flea market with Heart-Shaped Uterus, Her Cousin (who was told she would have trouble conceiving but didn't) and the always lovely H. I'm hoping she'll be okay in big crowds. But with four girls to answer to, she should do well.

Right now she's running around the couch with a stuffed frog (previously a cat toy) in her mouth. She's been a total maniac so far this morning. But I think that's probably a good fit with this "family."

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I also want to wish Quest for Mommihood a congrats on her BFP! There must be something in the water because that is the third BFP in as many weeks!

Infertility sensitivity training manual - Part 4

2009-07-15T18:29:00.004-04:00

It might just be the Two Week Hate and I'm taking things the wrong way, but I have a few more points to add to the infertility sensitivity training manual. If you think of any more, feel free to pass them along.

(1) Do not: Tell me that I should be happy with what I have. I had a really hard day on Tuesday for several reasons that I'll vent about later. But my DH felt the need to point out that I was loved, and healthy (if infertility can't be counted as an illness) and have a full life ahead of me (unless I chose death by chocolate of course). My mum also does this to me, and I just hate it. While they're at it, they might as well tell me to finish my brussel sprouts because there are kids starving in Africa (incidentally, I was born in Africa so this one might actually work on me).

(2) Do not: ask me if there is anything 'new' going on. I recently called a friend of mine whose wife had a baby. We hadn't talked in a while, and he had the nerve to ask me what was new. I may just be in that 'dark' place but I felt like he was digging for info. He knows I'm barren - sheesh! 'Just the puppy,' I said trying to sound nice and bright and not a tad maniacal. (this was the same woman whose baby shower I attended with the hecklers).

Previous no-no's

(1) Do not: Send us pregnancy announcements by email without a warning first - unless you are 100% sure we are going to be at home when we pick it up.

Amendment 1A: As an amendment to this rule, Optimistically Hopeful said: My personal preference for pregnancy announcements would be e-mail, NOT the phone. It's so much easier for me to read an e-mail and be able to deal with it on my own terms and timeline than to be on the phone with someone and feel like I have to come up with an appropriate response.

(2) Do not: Talk about how horrible it is to be pregnant. You might think we are grateful to hear how we don't have to suffer with stretch marks, pregnancy acne and hemorrhoids, but what we're really thinking is "Get the preparation H ready!"

(3) Do not: Give us "knowing" looks when we pass on wine, beer, liquor and coffee. It's no secret. Sometimes we just want a diet coke.

(4) Do not: Make comments like "you don't know what it's like to be a parent." Ouch. This one's obvious, but it's happened to me before so I thought I should include it.

(5) Never say: You should just enjoy all the great sex (and this was from my mother). Who is she kidding? As I mentioned in my first blog, one of my fertility-challenged friends told me her husband actually said: "I don't even know if I like sex anymore." Doesn't that sound like good times?

Here are the suggestions I have received so far:

(1) From StillHopeful: After my second IVF failed, a close relative said, "Well, it must not have been meant to be, everything happens for a reason". Oh, so you're saying that I'm not cut out to be a mother?

(2) From Fuzzyhead: I don't think Fertiles should act shocked when Infertiles choose to talk about Their Problem. I told everybody and their dog about my infertiity, because it really did define my life for 3 years. It coloured everything. Yet my MIL was shocked that I told anyone (and if she had known what a blog was, she'd have been shocked I blogged about it.) She thought I should have kept it private. I chose the opposite, in part because: what's the point of being ashamed about life handing you a pile of poo that you didn't ask for? And also because the world could use some edu-macating about this stuff.

(3) From Michele: Do not tell an expectant parent who has lost a child that God is replacing that child/children, that things will be okay because the other child died, and things along that line. If one more person says that i should feel better because i'm pregnant again and "things will be fine" I will scream. Or perhaps explode. You can't replace a baby with another. They aren't books or cars. They are people.

(4) From Fran: Do not tell us: "you know, I thought I was infertile, then I came to terms with it and fell pregnant". Mmmhh I see...I know she means well, but come on, we are two an half year into this hell and I know very well that I didn't feel that desperate after only three months.

(5) From Best when used by: It's not okay to ask your infertile friend/relative EVERY time you see her whether she is pregnant yet, still trying, having enough sex, comment on how fun it must be to "practice" or say, "Stop thinking about it and it will happen."

(6) From Melissa: Amen on the are you pregnant yet question. Dear god, I wouldn't tell you if I were for at least the first trimester.

Heading into a serious Two Week Hate

2009-07-12T20:35:00.007-04:00

It's an old clunker (2004) but I'm SO happy my computer is home again. And it only took $75 to fix! It comes at a crucial time because I think I've got a serious case of the Two Week Hate coming on. I'm only at day 16, and my "delusional self" and "sane self" are already arguing like two parents on the verge of divorce.

"Hmm, I'm feeling a bit tired. Oh, wait! And extra hungry," delusional self says.

"What a second...just what are you getting at?" sane self asks.

"I'm just saying, I feel REALLY hungry. And it's surprising how tired I am when I slept really well last night."

"You don't fool me. I know what you're getting at. You are tricking yourself into thinking you have some sort of early pregnancy symptoms!"

"I never said that. I was just saying that I've been tired. And look at how much I ate on Saturday! That was ridiculous."

What's ridiculous is that this really is the battle going on inside my head. I think that as the endometriosis was being lasered off my uterus and ovaries, my brain was growing extra "crazy cells" to compensate. This is not going to be a good month at all.

But as I said, now that I have my computer back, it will be a good diversion - especially since I was able to get out and get some photos. You may notice that I post a lot of these lately, but an infertile girl's gotta do, what she's gotta do. Here are a few of Beatrice, and our trip to visit my brother and Shammy (Golden Retriever) and Chico (the cat).

A smattering of news...

2009-07-09T21:54:00.003-04:00

First of all, I want to say congrats to Best When Used By for her BFP! It looks like a pretty open and shut case, which is perfect for someone in the legal profession :-) It couldn't have happened to a nicer chickadee.

Secondly, I'm dying. Well, not literally. But the blue screen of death did cause some stabbing pains in my chest. My computer went on the fritz on Tuesday night, and I've had to borrow DH's, which is super annoying because he often has work to do at night. And I can't download all my great new pics of Beatrice or my NYC pics. Argh! Anyway, it's in techie hands now...I'm hoping for life support, but I'll be okay with just getting all my documents off my hard drive.

Thirdly (I'm in a list mood), I've noticed lately that I've become slightly obsessed with cupcakes. There is a fantastic place near me called The Cake Box, which has the best vanilla strawberry cupcakes. But I'm not only eating them...I'm also hunting them down in blogs. (if you know of any good ones, let me know). I've always been into cakes (and ice cream, and chocolate and...well, food) but this cupcake fascination is new. Maybe it's because Beatrice is so little and cute, and they are so little and cute?

Fourthly, um...well, I guess that's it for tonight. It's almost time to go to bed and dream of techies eating cupcakes while doing pregnancy tests on my computer.

Opening UP!

2009-07-07T19:41:00.004-04:00

My DH and I love to travel. So it's important that Beatrice start learning now how to endure our sing-a-longs, fights over the air conditioner, and DH's preference for talk radio.

I'm happy to report she's already successfully completed her first mission - a road trip to visit my brother and his family in Ottawa over the weekend. Five hours each way, she managed to sleep through most of it, and was a model puppy at the pit stops - happy to sniff her way around, and be scooped up into the arms of several strangers without biting a-one.

Once in Ottawa, she let the kids drag her around and test her ability to fetch balls of all sizes. She also learned how to play with my brother's golden retriever, whose paws were as big as she was! But they really enjoyed each other, and between the dog and my two nephews and niece, I barely saw her.

As for my visit with my brother, there was only one uncomfortable "talk." And it was spurred on by the movie UP!

On Saturday, the weather was horrible, so the whole family trekked out to the movies to watch the 3D version and eat enough popcorn to make my one nephew ill (until the chocolate came out after dinner of course). I was a bit nervous about the movie because I had already heard from several bloggers that it should come with an "infertility sadness" rating. Though it's only a small part in the movie, it's pretty realistic. Even DH said to me afterwards, "Man, you can't get away from this stuff."

So Saturday night after being sated by sushi - while the kids were wrapping Beatrice up in blankets and generally testing her patience - DH and I and my brother and his wife started to chat about the movie. Now, I've never ever EVER talked to any of my three brothers about my infertility. So I was a bit surprised when my brother asked me how I felt about the one part in the movie.

I was so shocked. I mean, my family is pretty open with one another, but infertility is just not something I talk about - even with my mum and we're super tight. So I just sort of started babbling about how now that the laparascopy was done that we were just going to take a "wait and see" approach and not pursue any other options. And then he said: "You know, it's okay to mourn this."

"I'm pretty sure I already have," I said with a happy lilt in my voice. Now, most days I have a pretty good handle on things, but I can't say I've mourned anything. That night, I managed not to cry, and we just moved things along - nothing to see here officer.

In a way I'm glad he knows now. The pink elephant got a little smaller. I felt the same way after I updated my SIL a few days after my laparascopy for endometriosis. Of course, I didn't really need to tell her we had problems. We've been married for almost four years, and we ain't spring chickens. But it was good to let it out. I had thought about sending everyone an email just to say, "hey, this is where we are. If anything changes, we'll let you know" kind of thing. But at this point, I'm pretty sure that even if I haven't said it, it's been filtered down by my mum.

Whatever happens, I have a much better idea what maternity leave is like. A puppy definitely isn't a baby, but it's pretty close. There are early mornings, crash-and-burn naps, and constant supervision of the plants and the cats to keep me busy. Ah, finally an outlet for my mothering pangs...

On a side note, a few people have asked how to reach me. Feel free to email me anytime at sdimitra@gmail.com. Have a good night everyone!

Say hello to my little friend...

2009-06-29T14:29:00.005-04:00

Beatrice is a beaut! She's super smart and playful, and has no problem at all sleeping in her crate at night. It's been a huge help that I've been able to take this week off (I've been calling it 'puppy leave') because even though she's been so good, I'm exhausted! I swear I've lost a few pounds already just playing with her.

Here are a few pictures of my new personal trainer!

First things first...

2009-06-28T10:48:00.003-04:00

I am not at all pleased with Dr. Lunge. That doesn't mean I'm not aglow with puppy love. Beatrice is lovely! But first things first...

I went for my appointment on Friday, and waited 1.5 hours to see him. He read over my report, said, "Yup a lot of lasering. It was on your ovaries too." And I said, "So does that mean now that it's gone I can get pregnant?"

"You should have 'some' success," he said, still looking at his report.
Confused, I asked, "You mean 'limited' success?" And he said, very clearly, "No, 'some' success." Um, okay?

Now I know there are different grades of endometriosis from I-IV. Why I didn't just ask him what mine was I'll never know. Well, maybe I do know - because it was one of those strange appointments that seemed to take about five seconds. Dr. reads report, presents summary, signs form for me to get bloodwork done to check my progesterone and prolactin, and orders me to come back in September. Five minutes later, I'm standing at the car holding the cotton ball in the crook of my arm where the blood was taken.

It was not good that I was also at the peak of PMS on Friday, and I'm going to blame some of the tears on my hormones. I actually cried at work! I've never cried at work - and certainly not in front of my boss. She asked how things went and I couldn't pretend to eat my lunch anymore. "I'm just so frustrated," I said. And I am.

I'm frustrated because I had to go to his office twice (and wait 1.5 hours) to hear less information about my endometriosis than he told my husband after the surgery. Then, without asking what I wanted, he ordered blood work and ordered me back in a few months - but for what? I don't want any more of his help.

In a previous blog posting, I talked about how this was it - this was my last appointment with Dr. Lunge or any fertility specialist. I had gone the drug route and it freaked me out. My DH really doesn't like Dr. Lunge because he thinks he keeps prolonging my treatment so he can get paid by OHIP. And he started to get into it on Friday when I told him about the appointment. I told him now was not the time to get into a debate over the politics of the issue and he apologized (it wasn't a good time to talk about it anyway - he was in the car on the way to a friend's cottage). I'm sure we'll discuss it more tonight when he's back.

We have to decide if I will continue this relationship with Dr. Lunge, or if I'm going to have to break up with him. It's been a long journey, so I'm understandably curious about whether my hormone levels are normal (previously, I was told my prolactin was a bit high). I also feel like I need some closure - and maybe I need to tell him it's over in person. We've know each other for a few years now, so it's beyond a phone break-up, I think.

In the meantime, I'm excited to report that a new relationship has just begun to blossom! Beatrice has been a model puppy. We played all day yesterday, and she slept like a little angel in her crate without a peep. She also hasn't had any "accidents" yet, but I did have her outside almost all day yesterday. Today it is raining, so this will be the real test. Stay tuned for pictures (not of her accidents, of her cute little face!).

Okay, let's try this again...

2009-06-25T20:18:00.005-04:00

It's going to be one more day until I get any answers about my endometriosis from Dr. Lunge. I went for my appointment this morning and he was too busy to see me. He had some babies to deliver or something like that (yeah, good excuse). So I'm going back tomorrow at 9 a.m. for my post-op.

Maybe it's a good thing I have to wait because I've got wicked PMS right now and I might overreact to the news. I'm in a REALLY bitchy mood and everything (and everyone) is driving me nuts - like the kid hanging off my shopping cart at the grocery store, and the woman who I drove home from work tonight who tried to direct me while talking on her cellphone when I already know the way. Sheesh!

Mostly I'm feeling bitchy about the horrible stories people have been telling me about their dogs. There's one woman at work who really is a lovely woman - I'm just not sure why she feels the need to tell me about how her dog: (a) tore up her new couch because he was so allergic to the material inside of it that it was driving him crazy. She had to rush him to the pet hospital because his lips were so swollen from the allergic reaction they were almost flipped inside out! AND then follow it up with (b) how he got hit by a car when she first got him.

"He ran right out into the road and got hit," she said.
"Okay, do you have any positive stories about your dog?" I asked her, starting to feel a little annoyed.
"Well, he lived!" she said.
"No, I mean, tell me the part where he was always happy, and licked your face...that kind of thing."
"Oh, well, we used to have a great time going for milk and burgers." Okay, I thought. It's a start.

I'm not saying everyone has been negative. Another woman I work with talked about how her husband used to watch TV at night while their puppy slept on his chest. But as I sit here to try and think of another positive story...nope, can't think of one.

There is one particularly toxic person I work with who keeps asking me if I'm stressed out about the puppy and giving me "tips."

"You'd better be careful bringing her home. She might throw up all over the car like mine did."

Um, thanks for the advice you crazy bitch?! Who the hell wants to hear that their dog might be sick everywhere because they're so upset. I already realize this could happen. I definitely don't need someone to point it out or put the thought in my head.

Oh...my...god. I've just realized what this sounds like. I've been around enough pregnant friends/family members to know that during those nine months, they hear just about every horror story going - from painful hemorrhoids and leg cramps, to morning sickness and sleepless nights. And let's not forget the labour. Who hasn't heard stories about ripping, or having the epidural work the wrong way. This is EXACTLY the same thing.

Well, just like every labour is different, every puppy is different. And I refuse to give in to the negativity. Maybe your dog is a homicidal maniac who is allergic to the wind and feels the need to eat furniture like some junkie on crack. But not my little Beatrice. Nope, she will be a picture of loveliness.

And yes, delusional thinking is also a symptom of PMS - but I like it!

Thank you

2009-06-24T19:59:00.001-04:00

Thanks everyone for your encouraging comments in my yesterday's blog. Who knew being an adult would involve such tricky choices?! But I feel so much better with your support :-)

Did he say Pack Leader, or Dog Feeder?

2009-06-23T22:27:00.009-04:00

So, puppies are hyper right? Like, really hyper? I only ask because I saw Beatrice at the breeder last night, and she was...um...a little bit like my boss gets when she drinks red bull. Crazy-eyed, bity (okay, my boss doesn't bite) and running everywhere her caterpillar-like legs would take her.

Of course, this makes me a bit nervous about Saturday when I bring her home. How am I ever going to establish myself as the pack leader if I'm busy bounding after her through our flower beds, and trying to stop her from hanging off my shorts with her teeth? I don't know too many "leaders" who look frazzled at the sight of a dog bounding after a squirrel.

I'm really trying to be prepared. I read Cesar's book "Be the Pack Leader" this weekend, and learned I've got to mentally establish my dominance, and show calm-assertive energy. I even practiced his techniques twice - once on my big cat, and once on my dad (yes, I said dad).

My big cat (aka Paco) was being fiesty, so I put him in a submissive hold. I think I may have let him up too early though, and next time I'll probably wear oven mitts to make sure his teeth don't sink into my flesh as many times. But he did become more affectionate - for about a day. This picture was taken on one of his "good days" when he was happy enough to relax in a box.

As for my dad, he can also be very fiesty - especially when the discussion of politics comes up. And it did on Saturday night when DH and I were visiting. My parents are very conservative. We are very liberal. I don't think I really need to say more (okay, so once he cursed DH and I, and said he wished we would die in a fiery plane crash at the hands of terrorists) but he's really a lovely man as long as religion and politics aren't involved.

So before he could get to a new curse, I decided to put an end to the conversation with a "tsst" like Cesar taught me. My dad fought back with a death stare, but once I saw those eyelids flicker, I knew I had won! (this honestly happened).

Even with all that training, when I went to visit Beatrice tonight, if I said "tsst" and gave her a little touch, she just tried to bite my finger. Then she just rolled all over my lap like a Cirque du Soleil acrobat, and tested her tiny teeth on my sandals.

I think I've got a little more homework to do. I mean, how am I ever going to get her to lie in the crib and sit in the high chair if I can't even take her for a walk?!

Coming out of the infertile closet

2009-06-23T21:03:00.008-04:00

After reading your great comments to my last blog, I realized I never mentioned I was going to see Dr. Lunge this Thursday about my endometriosis (I hope he's prepared for my scroll of questions!). Not mentioning this is probably only part forgetfulness. In truth, I think I've been avoiding this issue. That's because I'll have to admit this will be my last appointment with Dr. Lunge - and any fertility specialist for that matter. Let me explain...

Two-and-a-half years ago when I started trying to have a baby, at first I went through the "relax-and-enjoy it" phase where I was only slightly OCD about BDing the right days (okay, I've never had a relaxed phase - but Einstein says everything is relative, and compared to how anxious I got, that was me relaxed).

Then after about eight months, I decided to add to my addiction of pregnancy symptom-surfing with some basal body temp taking. Every cycle, I got a beautiful arc at around day 14, but inevitably, my temperature would start to go down at around Day 26, and anyone who is "listening" to their bodies as much as we gals do doesn't need AF to show up to know it ain't the month.

Next I went high-tech and splurged on one of those ovulation monitors. It worked like a charm - well, at predicting my ovulation. Every month, my pee would command the monitor to tell me which days to stress my husband out about BDing. Ah, the romance...but still nothing.

Around this time, I was seeing a gyne specialist about another issue, and he recommended Dr. Lunge since I had already been trying for a year. "Hmm, a year," he said. I heard that a lot the first few months I started going to Dr. Lunge. From the woman who took my blood, to the ultrasound technicians who did my fun wand tests - everyone had determined that as of 12 months and 1 day, I was a walking one-woman pity show.

As for Dr. Lunge, he didn't seem all that worried at first. He said my prolactin was a little bit high, and prescribed two medications. One to take from Day 3-7 (which he said has been known to cause birth defects if taken while pregnant, yikes!) and another that I guess was like an equivalent to Clomid (can't remember the names and really don't want to). I dutifully took them, even though I normally shun even the lowest strength Tylenol. After three months of nausea, the world's worst AF cramps, and nightmares about the possibility of maiming an unborn child with chemicals, I decided to stop popping those pills.

I went to see him for my follow-up and told him I had stopped taking them. He seemed nonplussed. Then we talked next steps. Laparascopy for endometriosis was the next natural step, according to him. Then I could look at IUI, IVF etc.

The thing is, DH and I have discussed (and discussed, and discussed) this issue. And we have decided that we won't be pursing any other medical intervention. For us, it either happens, or it doesn't. I may see a naturopath for overall improvement of health, but no more doctors. (I'm actually very excited that I won't have to go up in stirrups - at least until my next physical).

I've been very nervous about putting this out there because I feel guilty. I feel like if I was a good mom, I would do whatever I could to have a baby. The problem is that I find a regular cycle stressful. I'm a bit better now, but last year, I took a few "sick" days because I just couldn't stop crying when AF showed up. Today, I'm in a much better place, and I just don't think I could manage the elevated hope that comes with IVF or related procedures - and a potential fall from grace.

Some days I feel pretty good about our decision. Today is one of those days. But there are others when I wonder how I'll keep my head out of the stove. Beatrice will definitely help with my mothering pangs. For now, I'm just hoping Dr. Lunge has positive news for me on Thursday...and then I'll go from there.

Putting an "end-o" to my online fertility searches

2009-06-22T20:31:00.005-04:00

I'm getting pretty good at figuring out what's going on inside my body with the help of the World Wide Web. Okay, so maybe ONE time I was off. But I did go to the bathroom a lot that day - and diabetes seemed like a perfectly good explanation to me. Hey! I could still have it you know. In fact, I think I'm a little thirsty right now.

But there was at least one time I was definitely right. A few years ago while playing soccer, I had stabbing pains in my uterus that forced me to curl up in the fetal position on the fake turf (leaving all sorts of stuff on my cheek when I finally sat up).

When I got home, I hopped on the web and after a few quick searches, I diagnosed myself with a case of endometriosis. And we all know that is exactly what Dr. Lunge zapped out of my happy little uterus last month. So hah! I got the same result as an MD but without having to spend tens of thousands on an education, use a scalpel, or play one round of golf.

But while I may not need a medical doctor, my online searches about endometriosis and infertility may mean I could soon need a psychologist.

That's probably because most of the sites I go to talk about pregnancy rates related to: mild (looking pretty good Mr. Kotter) vs. extensive (no way in hell is a baby going to sit in this mess for 9 months) endometrosis. And since I still haven't talked to Dr. Lunge about specifics, I have no idea which category I'm in!

Here is what it says in the nytimes.com health guide:

"How well surgery helps improve fertility depends on the severity of the endometriosis. Pregnancy rates after surgery in women previously considered to be infertile are approximately 75% for mild endometriosis, 50-60% for moderate cases, and 30-40% for severe cases."

Not only do pregnancy rates vary depending on how bad your endo is, but it appears as if there is a strict time limit on how long I have before these weeds start to grow in my uterus again!

Check out what another site said:

"The good news, though, is that when a doctor diagnosis your case with laparascopy, he may also remove the scarred tissues. This may not help in permanent eradication of endometriosis, but for an approximate period of 36 weeks, you can increase your chances of getting pregnant to around 75%."

36 weeks! That is only 9 months! So that means in the time it takes to create a baby, I could be right back at the starting gate? I just don't know if I can handle this AND diabetes...

Infertility sensitivity training - Part 3

2009-06-18T20:15:00.007-04:00

There were more great comments on the infertility sensitivity training manual, so I'm reposting the list here with the new suggestions (including another one I thought of). If you have any more, you know where to send them :-)

Here is my (updated) list:

(1) Do not: Send us pregnancy announcements by email without a warning first - unless you are 100% sure we are going to be at home when we pick it up.

Amendment 1A: As an amendment to this rule, Optimistically Hopeful said: My personal preference for pregnancy announcements would be e-mail, NOT the phone. It's so much easier for me to read an e-mail and be able to deal with it on my own terms and timeline than to be on the phone with someone and feel like I have to come up with an appropriate response.

(2) Do not: Talk about how horrible it is to be pregnant. You might think we are grateful to hear how we don't have to suffer with stretch marks, pregnancy acne and hemorrhoids, but what we're really thinking is "Get the preparation H ready!"

(3) Do not: Give us "knowing" looks when we pass on wine, beer, liquor and coffee. It's no secret. Sometimes we just want a diet coke.

(4) Do not: Make comments like "you don't know what it's like to be a parent." Ouch. This one's obvious, but it's happened to me before so I thought I should include it.

(5) Never say: You should just enjoy all the great sex (and this was from my mother). Who is she kidding? As I mentioned in my first blog, one of my fertility-challenged friends told me her husband actually said: "I don't even know if I like sex anymore." Doesn't that sound like good times?

Here are the suggestions I received:

(1) From StillHopeful: After my second IVF failed, a close relative said, "Well, it must not have been meant to be, everything happens for a reason". Oh, so you're saying that I'm not cut out to be a mother?

(2) From Fuzzyhead: I don't think Fertiles should act shocked when Infertiles choose to talk about Their Problem. I told everybody and their dog about my infertiity, because it really did define my life for 3 years. It coloured everything. Yet my MIL was shocked that I told anyone (and if she had known what a blog was, she'd have been shocked I blogged about it.) She thought I should have kept it private. I chose the opposite, in part because: what's the point of being ashamed about life handing you a pile of poo that you didn't ask for? And also because the world could use some edu-macating about this stuff.

(3) From Michele: Do not tell an expectant parent who has lost a child that God is replacing that child/children, that things will be okay because the other child died, and things along that line. If one more person says that i should feel better because i'm pregnant again and "things will be fine" I will scream. Or perhaps explode. You can't replace a baby with another. They aren't books or cars. They are people.

(4) From Fran: Do not tell us: "you know, I thought I was infertile, then I came to terms with it and fell pregnant". Mmmhh I see...I know she means well, but come on, we are two an half year into this hell and I know very well that I didn't feel that desperate after only three months.

(5) From Best when used by: It's not okay to ask your infertile friend/relative EVERY time you see her whether she is pregnant yet, still trying, having enough sex, comment on how fun it must be to "practice" or say, "Stop thinking about it and it will happen."

(6) From Melissa: Amen on the are you pregnant yet question. Dear god, I wouldn't tell you if I were for at least the first trimester.

Meet Beatrice!

2009-06-17T21:16:00.006-04:00

When the breeder told me on Sunday to stop by whenever I want to see my new puppy love, I'm pretty sure he didn't mean three days later. But I HAD to get a picture of her. So we interrupted the breeder and his wife's TV time so I could get in a little cuddle - and it was totally worth it! Here is our bundle of joy :-)

I've got more pictures - and I know how to use them. So you might want to be careful if you visit the site over the next few weeks. Could be doggy overload.

This is just a short blog because I'm dog tired (see what I mean), but I couldn't wait to show off pics of the little one. Turns out she is going to be useful in more than one way...she already has 3 jobs! Stay tuned...

The dog days of summer!

2009-06-14T21:58:00.004-04:00

I got a BFP today - a big, furry, puppy!!! You were all right. I waited for the right one, and I found her. All it took was hours of lamenting, multiple Internet searches, repeated visits to the humane society - and one lucky day trip.

Every summer, my mum and I visit this antique market that is about half an hour away. Today was that day. As I turned off the highway and headed towards the market, I saw a sign on the side of the road advertising cock-a-poos. After so many heartbreaking visits to kennels and the pound, I didn't get too excited. But as we were leaving the market, I mentioned I was going to take a look, and my mum agreed to go with me (she is also secretly looking for a dog, but needs to warm my dad up a bit more).

Pulling up the long driveway, I saw a group of multi-coloured curly-haired cock-a-poos in a crate. The owner came out of his house, and offered to take them out for us to look at. Only two (a boy and a girl) were still available. The girl came bounding over to me, put her little paws on my knees, and I knew - this is the one. A quick call to the DH to take a look, and an hour later we were forking over the deposit.

I'm going to have to gets some books on dog training. Is there anything like "What to expect when you're expecting a dog"? Because I've only ever had cats, so I have no idea what I'm in for. The breeder gave me a ton of great tips, but DH is going to be away the weekend I pick her up, and I'm nervous. Is it possible to mess up a dog right away?

My biggest fear is that I'll do something wrong, and she'll turn from a cute puff ball into a crazed barking, teeth-baring pup that craves human blood. As much as I'd love Cesar to come for a visit, I don't want to have a dog that would need the Dog Whisperer. So if any of you have any good book suggestions (or doggie training suggestions in general), PLEASE let me know.

My little girl still needs to get her first set of shots, so I pick her up at the end of June. But the breeder says I can visit any time (little does he know I have night vision goggles and will be pitching a tent on his front lawn).

I'm going to keep her name a secret until I pick her up. Originally, I had wanted a dog named "Pickles" but she's too pretty for such a sour name. Nope. It's going to be a sweet summer :-)

Infertility sensitivity training continued...

2009-06-11T20:54:00.018-04:00

I received some great suggestions on the infertility sensitivity training that I mentioned in my blog on Saturday. So I've decided to post them here. If you can think of any others, let me know. It would be great to keep an ongoing list, and if it gets long enough, I can break it into different subheadings. That way if anyone breaks the rules, we can just refer them to a specific section and # in the manual.

"Uh, you just broke the rule outlined in Section 7, subsection #4 pertaining to inappropriate questions." Doesn't that sound so much better than just breaking into tears and running out of the room? (which we'll still do, but only after we refer them to the manual of course).

Here are the suggestions I received:

(1) From Michele: Do not tell an expectant parent who has lost a child that God is replacing that child/children, that things will be okay because the other child died, and things along that line. If one more person says that i should feel better because i'm pregnant again and "things will be fine" I will scream. Or perhaps explode. You can't replace a baby with another. They aren't books or cars. They are people.

(2) From Fran: Do not tell us: "you know, I thought I was infertile, then I came to terms with it and fell pregnant". Mmmhh I see...I know she means well, but come on, we are two an half year into this hell and I know very well that I didn't feel that desperate after only three months.

(3) From Best when used by: It's not okay to ask your infertile friend/relative EVERY time you see her whether she is pregnant yet, still trying, having enough sex, comment on how fun it must be to "practice" or say, "Stop thinking about it and it will happen."

(4) Melissa echoed this comment: Amen on the are you pregnant yet question. Dear god, I wouldn't tell you if I were for at least the first trimester.

Here are the ones I originally suggested:

(5) Do not send us pregnancy announcements by email without a warning first - unless you are 100% sure we are going to be at home when we pick it up.

(6) Do not talk about how horrible it is to be pregnant. You might think we are grateful to hear how we don't have to suffer with stretch marks, pregnancy acne and hemorrhoids, but what we're really thinking is "Get the preparation H ready!"

(7) Do not give us "knowing" looks when we pass on wine, beer, liquor and coffee. It's no secret. Sometimes we just want a diet coke.

(8) Do not make comments like "you don't know what it's like to be a parent." Ouch. This one's obvious, but it's happened to me before so I thought I should include it.

I also want to thank all of you for being so supportive about my hunt for a furry friend. And you'll be happy to know I haven't kidnapped any animals...yet.

Looking for a furry fix

2009-06-10T19:31:00.009-04:00

So now I've lost out on two dogs. I went to the humane society tonight with DH to check up on my puppy, and turns he's already been adopted. No one bothered to tell me they always take multiple applications just in case, and I clearly wasn't first in line.

"But he's been adopted by a really nice family," the woman said. WTF does that mean? DH and I are assholes or something? (the wound is still a little fresh).

Now I have no idea what I'm going to do. Do I go back and hope I find another great puppy and get in the line-up to adopt him/her? Or do I go directly to a breeder who can give me the goods no questions asked? (I'm starting to feel like a dog junkie looking for a furry fix).

In the meantime, I'm not on speaking terms with God at all. And I'm not sure he wants to speak to me again either after the way I cussed him out as I made a delicious spaghetti dinner with a side of bitterness. I mean, seriously, who would do this kind of thing to an infertile? Isn't it enough that I had to see Dr. Lunge in shorts, or that I endured a baby shower without any plastic knives?

I'm even mad at Cesar. I watched the Dog Whisperer tonight and I didn't feel one pang of Zen. Doesn't he understand how much I need him and his pack? Nope, instead he just talked about how dogs bring such balance to people's lives. Hmmm, I wouldn't know.

My maternal instincts are backing up on me, and I need a serious mothering outlet. This is bad. Not "Raising Arizona" bad, but let's just hope I don't come across any stray puppies, kittens, raccoons, skunks, rats, mice, birds, caterpillars...you get the idea.

Trying to go from dog stalker, to dog walker

2009-06-08T20:35:00.008-04:00

I'm officially a dog stalker. Everywhere I go, I'm pointing out pups to DH. "Oh, look at that bulldog. Look! That one is soooooooo cute." But my days of stalking may soon be over. I think I may have found "the one." I won't know for a few more days, but the adoption papers have been submitted.

It all happened this afternoon. Our local human society doesn't update their website very often, so I figured I should just go down there in case they had dogs I didn't know about. Turns out, they did! There was a little bichon cross (crossed with what I don't know) with a big cone on his head, and a really bad haircut. And the minute I saw his cute little dark eyes peering out from underneath horrible 80s bangs, I thought, this one is for me!

So, I've submitted my application to adopt him. But they won't allow any adoptions until he gets neutered on Friday. And I still don't know if I'll even be approved. I'm not too sure about how I answered some of the questions. For example, they ask: "What would you not tolerate from a dog?" I answered -"Dogs that bite people." It's true. If he ran around biting everyone, I couldn't take it. I'm not the Dog Whisperer for heaven's sake! I can't just magically make these dogs go all Zen like Cesar. But I added that I would just take the dog to obedience training if that was the case. So hopefully that won't be seen as a black mark against me.

It's funny though because this breed of dog can sport a serious afro. I've already teasingly threatened DH that I'm going to get him groomed with the biggest white puffball of a head possible. The way he looks now, he could do with some fluffing up. I can't wait to take him get a good haircut. Oops...getting ahead of myself :-) But I mean, it's not like I already have a name picked out...okay, I do. But it's a name I've had for a really long time. Honest!

On a side note - my mum apologized again for the email. Looks like the infertility sensitivity training is working!

Infertility sensitivity training

2009-06-06T08:11:00.006-04:00

"Mom, I need to talk to you about something."
"What is it?"
"Before you send me any more 'happy news' by email, can you please call me first?"
"Oh no. I knew I shouldn't have sent it"
"No, you could have sent it. But could you have at least warned me first. I pick up my email at work, and it can be pretty distracting."
"I'm sooo sorry."
"That's okay. In future, let's just have this process - call me, then email me. Call, then email."

This is pretty much the conversation I had to have with my mum earlier this week after I got an email with a subject line that said: "some happy news." Before opening it, I thought it might be about one of my cousin's who just had a baby and had a HORRIBLE delivery. (I'm not too sure if she'll be able to have another baby). So I thought maybe it was about how she and her new baby boy were doing. Nope. It was about her brother, my other first cousin, whose wife is now pregnant with their first child.

So not only am I now officially the last among my first cousins to conceive (and the oldest to do so I might add) but I'm also trying to manage how the news gets to me. The conversation continued...

"I thought that maybe I shouldn't send it," she said. "And I know how upset you must have been. I mean, I know how upset I am for you, so I can imagine how you must feel."

I know she didn't realize that by opening this email I would end up silently re-evaluating my life for a good hour, and trying to talk myself down from doing something really crazy - like convincing DH to sell all of our worldly belongings and move to NYC. And I know she tries to understand, but I don't think it's possible.

Listen, I know most fertiles try really hard to empathize with us. And I know they have felt the pain of waiting to get that BFP (big fat positive). Most of my friends and family members didn't get pregnant in their first month of trying (except for my boss, who was told she couldn't have children - but that's another story). So there would definitely be some frustration there. But I just think the longer you are in these infertility trenches, the more painful it is to hear about another soldier whose tour of duty is over in this battle for a baby. (strange analogy, I know, but it's one of those mornings).

So I congratulate all of you who get this - and I guess it's up to us infertile girls to let the rest of the fertiles know it's not okay to:

1) Send us pregnancy announcements by email without a warning first - unless you are 100% sure we are going to be at home when we pick it up
2) Talk about how horrible it is to be pregnant. You might think we are grateful to hear how we don't have to suffer with stretch marks, pregnancy acne and hemorrhoids, but what we're really thinking is "Get the preparation H ready!"
3) Give us "knowing" looks when we pass on wine, beer, liquor and coffee. It's no secret. Sometimes we just want a diet coke.
4) Make comments like "you don't know what it's like to be a parent." Ouch. This one's obvious, but it's happened to me before so I thought I should include it.

Did I miss any?

A new hobby?

2009-06-04T20:06:00.005-04:00

So after I made a joke about turning my PMS warning into a cross stitch for the front hallway, Lucky Jones told me about a few she had made with sayings like "piss off" and "don't make me cut you."

I was intrigued so I asked her where she got them. Turns out she made those ones (she's very crafty - you should check out her finger puppets), but she mentioned a company that made them: Subversive Cross stitch. My favourites are "truthiness", "bite me", and "of course I care."

But I've thought of a few others I might like:

Don't fuck with Mr. Zero - one of my favourite lines from "When Harry Met Sally"
Gag me with a spoon - perfect for the kitchen
Wouldn't you rather have meat? - From a Woody Allen movie called "Deconstructing Harry"
I am so smart...SMRT - Had to get in one from the Simpsons
This is funner - "funner" is one of my husband's favourite non-words

I'm sure there are more sayings bouncing around up there. So maybe I'll try to learn cross-stitching this winter - you know, make a few gifts for the fam, that kind of thing. Except I have no talent for crafts whatsoever. So not only will the saying be messed up, but so will the design. Maybe I'll just buy one instead...

Bad hormones rising...

2009-06-03T22:22:00.004-04:00

I'm really annoyed with my DH. I mean REALLY annoyed. He came downstairs tonight to say good-bye before going to floor hockey, and I could barely look at him. And last night, I kept harassing him about being tired. What's up with that?

DH has been so wonderful doing all the housework and making my favourite foods while I recover, not to mention the whole dog episode this week. I mean, I was just joking around about the PMS symptoms yesterday, but things are starting to feel really whack.

Always the hypochondriac, I just did a quick search on Google for "post laparascopy hormones" and I found one message board where a woman mentioned having wicked PMS for about 14 days during her cycle after her laparoscopy. Fantastic. So when I had endometriosis, I was calmer?! I used to get some pretty nasty mood swings, so I was kinda hoping this would make me more level.

Definitely something I'm going to ask Dr. Lunge about. But maybe until my hormones even out I should give DH some space - or at the very least urge him to wear his protective cup!

Not a good time for major decisions

2009-06-02T19:08:00.010-04:00

After my surgery last week, the nurse gave me this list of what I could expect during my recovery, and some do's and don'ts. On the list was "Do not make any major decisions or sign anything in the next 24 hours." I guess the thinking is that the anaesthetic could "affect" my decision making. Instead of post-surgery, though, I think this would be a great warning for anyone with PMS.

Why? Because I'm a total nutcase. I don't know if it's because I no longer have endometriosis and my hormones are out of whack, but things got more intense than usual this month. It peaked yesterday morning, when I went to the website for a local humane society. That's when I found a spitz-poodle mix that I promptly decided needed to come home with me. Rushing out of the office right at 4:30, I got to the HS just 15 minutes before it closed.

"I'm here to see Shelby," I told the woman at the front desk breathlessly.
"Oh, no. She just drove off with her new owners about 20 minutes ago," she said holding up the adoption papers. "But you can take a look around at the other dogs if you like."

I shuffled through the kennel, barely looking at the other dogs. Even their sad little eyes peering at me from behind their cages didn't give me any heart pangs. My always-wonderful DH saw how upset I was and we ended up going to a few local Mennonite breeders to see some cock-a-poos, and a sheltie/retriever cross. They were cute, but I think it was just too soon.

It's crazy because I don't even know if I would have bonded with the dog at the humane society, or if it would have been a good fit for our kitties. That's why I think that a warning needs to go on every box of tampons and pads out there. Maybe something like:

Warning: If you are going to use these products in the next 72 hours, do not try on jeans or a bathing suit. Do not attempt to dress yourself in shades of the same colour. Do not purchase and/or attempt to assemble anything from IKEA (particularly with your DH). And never try to adopt anything that you fell in love with over the Internet.

This would also make a very nice cross-stitch saying to hang in the front hall...dontcha think?

Old infertility habits die hard

2009-05-31T21:02:00.006-04:00

It was a fantastic weekend - in lots of ways. I went to see Elton John and Billy Joel play last night in Toronto. I danced so much I was convinced I had given myself a hernia (that Rocket Man can really give 'er) But my hypochondria calmed down this morning after an hour of the Dog Whisperer (All hail Cesar!)

I also got to see one of my best friend's, I'll call her H., and her husband and their two little cutiepies. I hadn't seen them since Christmas, and there was so much to talk about that even after four hours, I felt a little cheated. In all of our chats, one thing really stood out to me, and when she reads this, she might be surprised what I'm going to write. Or maybe not...

H. and I have been friends since Grade 8, or about 20 years. And she is one of those amazing people who is so supportive, but who also won't let you get away with kidding yourself. And she doesn't do it in a blunt way. She is more like a mirror. And she made me realize yesterday that I was still lying to myself about babies - and I'm so glad she did.

We were sitting on the couch chatting about my job. I've blogged before about not totally loving it, and I really do feel like I should probably move on, but I'm still not sure where I'm going. Anyway - H. asked what I was thinking of doing.

"Well, I'm starting to think that maybe now is not the best time to leave in case I get pregnant."

And there it was on her face. I was saying exactly what I had said at Christmas, and on the visit before that, and the one before that. I am standing still again, holding my breath, and holding out hope of what "could" happen.

Even though I've had laporoscopy and my endometriosis has been zapped, there are no guarantees that I'll get pregnant. There are no guarantees that everything else in my body that should be working will work. And there are no guarantees that if I put everything on hold, I'll be better off for it.

So what is my plan? Good question. After this blog post, I'm going downstairs to get ice cream, and then...well, I haven't thought much further than that. I wish the Dog Whisperer had a 1-800 help line.

"Hello, yes, I'm calling because I'm having a problem with fear..."
"My dog? Oh no, I don't have a dog. I'm the one with the fear problem..."
"What do you mean you don't take humans at the Dog Psychology Centre?"

Sisterhood Award

2009-05-31T12:56:00.004-04:00

I'm not sure what I really expected when I started this blog. I guess I knew it would be a place for me to vent; to be able to go somewhere I could get out all of these crazy emotions. I never really thought about the fantastic community of people out there that I would meet and learn about - and who I would turn to for support and inspiration.

Two of the bloggers I turn to on a regular basis are lucky jones and best when used by. And so I feel really honoured that they have chosen to nominate me for the Sisterhood Award. In keeping with the sista' hood, I have nominated a group of bloggers below that prove that strength in numbers ain't just a cliche. These bloggers are inspirational, funny, and always ready to give of themselves to help another.

Here are the guidelines for this award:

1) Put the logo on your blog or post.
2) Nominate at least 10 blogs with great attitude and/or gratitude. Be sure to link to your nominees in your post.
3) Let your nominees know they have received the award by leaving them a comment on their blog.
4) Be sure to link this post to the person who nominated you for the award.

I know some of you have been nominated for this award in the past, but I still wanted to include you in my list. Here is the list of blogs I nominate:

1) Quest for Mommihood

2) Coming 2 Terms

3) Painting Chef - Cheaper Than Therapy

4) Infertility Instability

5) Optimistically Hopeful

6) Room in My Oven

7) Conceiving Life After 40

8) Stuck in a Baby Drought

9) Best When Used By

10) Lucky Jones - Happy High Heels

I had a gut feeling about endometriosis...

2009-05-28T19:53:00.004-04:00

I'm back! Or at least most of me is. I am happy to report I am now sans endometriosis! On Tuesday, I had a very fruitful laparascopy. Dr. Lunge apparently got his laser out and zapped an extensive amount of those nasty weeds from my uterus.

Throughout my trip to NYC (which was amazing by the way!) the surgery only popped into my head a few times. Even the morning I was getting ready to leave for the hospital, I was the picture of peace (EXTREMELY unusual for me). I remained calm until we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.

"Are you going to put your satellite radio away?"
"Um.."
"Because you know, there have been a lot of break-ins lately."
"Sure, okay."
"And what about the parking ticket? You have to take it with you, you know."

Oh, my poor husband. Then when we got to admitting, they wanted me to fill out forms - you know, the ones where they want you to be able to recall all major surgeries and years, as if your brain cells weren't doing enough work trying to focus on keeping your heart pumping and lungs breathing. Although my mouth worked well enough for me to complain about this for a good 10 minutes before completing the form.

Then there was the discussion with the nurse about pain medications (this went on long enough for me to start to wonder exactly HOW MUCH pain I was going to be in). And then I was taken to the surgical waiting room, dressed only in the paper thin sheets they make you wear backwards, and a slightly thicker "robe." And don't forget those luxurious paper "slippers" they have for you.

When I got to the waiting room, there were two children there who were going to have tubes put in their ears. I felt really bad for them. "Those poor little lambs. They must be so nervous," I thought to myself. Then about 15 minutes later, I thought, "Fuck it. They're little. They don't even know how bad it could get," and went back to feeling selfishly shit scared for myself.

Because of an emergency, my surgery was delayed two hours, which was kind of good because by the time it was my turn, I was so anxious to get it over with that I practically led the nurse to the operating room (not true at all. My expression as I walked down that hallway was similar to that of a lobotomy patient, but at least I didn't have to be carried in).

I briefly saw Dr. Lunge before the IV went in my hand and my head got kinda fuzzy...ah...the good stuff. When I came to in Recovery Room 1, my sole purpose was to try and wake up as quickly as possible so I could get to Recovery Room 2 and see my DH - and ask him the one question I really wanted to know...Did I go through all of this for nothing? A few hours later, I got my reply.

Dr. Lunge told my DH that the endometriosis was "extensive" and in several places in my uterus. But that it hadn't spread outside. He said now is the best time to try and get pregnant!

In the words of "George Constanza" from Seinfeld: "I'm bursting, Jerry, I'm bursting!"

Okay, it's not so great that I had endometriosis. But now it's gone. And so is the nagging feeling that this was the problem all along. I never had the typical symptoms of painful periods or pain during sex etc. But I did almost collapse from pain in my uterus a few times while exercising (honestly...once I thought I might have to go to the hospital). But these episodes were fairly infrequent, and I didn't really think about them until I tried to get pregnant.

I will go for my post-op appointment with Dr. Lunge at the end of June, and I hope to get a few more details then, because who can really remember the small details on a day when you need to be taken to the bathroom by a nurse. But this is definitely a start :-)

On a side note, I want to thank best when used by and lucky jones for nominating me for the Sisterhood Award! This was a lovely surprise to come back to, and truly warmed my heart and my newly cored-out uterus. I look forward to publishing my list of nominations in the next few days.

Stabbing heartache and pangs have left the building...

2009-05-13T21:58:00.018-04:00

One of the funny things about infertility is that on those days that you actually feel content - or dare I say it, happy - you often wonder why (or at least I do). It's like, "hmm, that's weird. I'm not stressed, or crying, or trying to pull the TV out of the wall because there is another goddamn show about a mega family."

But content is exactly how I feel today. It's probably because I only have one day of work left and then DH and I are off on vacation! But it's also only one day until my 34th birthday, and until yesterday, I was panicking over all the things on my to-do list that haven't got to-done.

I still haven't gone on safari in Africa, or filmed another documentary, or done anything constructive with my favourite photographs. And the fact that my uterus is the lazy cousin of my other organs can be very distracting from one's bucket list.

Yet today, even my feelings of discontent over the lack of a family seem to have been oddly transplanted for the moment. It almost feels like the part of me that provides the mothering pangs, and the hurtful stabbing heartache has gone on its own vacation.

Maybe heartache and pangs know that NYC hotel rooms are too small to accommodate such heavy baggage and they have made a pre-emptive vacate? Or maybe they need their own vacation? It can be hard work tormenting me every month.

Either way, I'm going to try and enjoy this odd "happy" sensation. I just hope heartache and pangs haven't picked the same destination. I'd take muggers over their nastiness any day.

“Delusional Sandra” vs. “Sane Sandra”

2009-05-11T20:17:00.000-04:00

On Friday I met with Dr. Lunge for my pre-op meeting to go over any questions I might have about laparascopy, and to make sure I wasn’t pregnant. That’s right…I had to do a pregnancy test. The fact I needed to go to the pharmacy right after my appointment to buy tampons didn’t seem to matter.

So there I was, standing outside the lab shot gunning a litre of water so I could pee in a cup and get on with my day. After my sample was done (and I had scrubbed up like a surgeon) I left it on the little ice pack, and went on my merry way to re-stock my bathroom cupboard.

I didn’t really think about the test on Saturday, or Sunday. But today, for some reason, I began to call home for messages. Every hour, then every half hour. “You have no new messages,” it kept saying back to me in its monotone mocking way. And I actually started to feel disappointed! You know why? Because I am a delusional maniac.

I actually started to play the “what if…” game in my head. What if I’m one of those rare people who gets a period when I’m pregnant? What if the lab calls and they actually tell me it’s positive? What if I don’t really need to do the laparascopy because I’m already pregnant?

And you really can’t have the “what if” game without the “pregnancy symptom” game. Walking down the stairs after dinner tonight, I swore my breasts hurt. “Hmm, they never hurt at this time of the month,” my delusional self said.

“Wow, I’m feeling really tired,” it said a little bit later (after I had scarfed down my body weight in chocolate). By 10 tonight, you may find me standing in front of the bathroom mirror holding my shirt up to see if my belly has grown!

Well, it’s all just ridiculous. I know that – or at least “Sane Sandra” knows that. But “Delusional Sandra” is much stronger, and in these situations, she’s pretty much a black belt of mental manipulation. I’m just hoping I get a call from the lab before I go out and buy a crib and maternity jeans.

What should I do with my life?

2009-05-10T20:56:00.005-04:00

A few posts back, I mentioned obsessing was a hobby of mine. In particular, I like to obsess about my career. I'm constantly asking my husband (oh, my poor husband), my mother, my friends, my cats, the guy who changes the oil in my car (you get the idea) "What should I do with my life?" I think this question gets more intense during the week AF visits - mainly because I chose a 9-5 job in preparation for having a family (I've always been a good planner - but not so good on execution).

My previous profession could have been my life, and I never wanted to think I might miss birthdays, holidays, or anything important because of my job. So I made the switch to a more family-friendly (aka boring) job. I can't say I haven't learned anything, but most days I have to force myself to get going. One day last week, I went for a walk around the building to mentally prepare for the to-do list ahead, and this VP caught me standing staring over a balcony.

"You're not going to jump are you?" she asked.

"Not today," I half-joked, and slinked back to my desk.

So here I am, almost three years later, in a job that's only okay when there are back-to-back meetings or a mountain of projects, and no need to use those family sick days (And I don't think they would let me take them for my cats).

I'd love to have my own business, but I'm risk averse. Take away the security of those cheques and I spend most of my time calculating how I'm going to afford to live rather than actually looking for business.

Okay, so a day job might work. The only drawback - if I'm a tad bit bored or don't get to use my creative side, I get a little bit (just a teensy bit) bitchy.

The best combo for me is probably a steady day job that doesn't make me want to jump over the balcony, and enough time to pursue my creative projects in the evening. In theory it sounds good, but I just don't know if I can spend 8 hours a day in a job that is moderately amusing just so I can do what I want at night. I guess it goes back to the choice of - do I want to love what I do? Or do I want to do work that will let me do what I love?

And now that I've exhausted pretty well everyone in my day-to-day life with this question - what do you all think? What should I do with my life?

The marathon that is infertility

2009-05-07T22:51:00.005-04:00

Tonight I went to a screening of Running the Sahara, a documentary about three guys who run across the African desert. It takes them 111 days to run close to 7,000 kilometres. The scenery was amazing, the story suspenseful, and the blisters disgusting. Overall, very inspirational.

One of the runners, Canadian Ray Zahab, was at the screening to answer questions, and he kept joking that running is 90% mental, and the rest is in your head. I've run a half marathon before, which seems like a jaunt to the corner store for these guys, but I remember it being fairly mental.

Running aside, what his statement really got me thinking about was how I've been trying to mentally keep it all together today. Why today? Because even though I knew it was coming...could sense it...could all but feel it in my toes, it still hit me right in the stomach when AF showed up this morning.

You think you're so put together. You make vacation plans, and life plans, and work plans, and think - pshaw, if it happens it happens...if not, I've got these plans. But what you're really thinking is: I would drop all of these plans in an instant for a baby. So when you realize it's another month gone, it takes a lot of brain power to keep on living like a normal human being.

While I think what these guys did was truly amazing, it is nothing compared to what all of us infertiles go through to keep it together. Every month is a new mental marathon for us - and sometimes I'm just so exhausted. But I'm going to keep going and I refuse to let it break me, even if I have to actually run a marathon.

Endometriosis rhymes with psychosis

2009-05-06T21:13:00.001-04:00

I gave myself a few days off to recover from the baby shower, and now I’m starting to mentally prepare for my next big infertility adventure coming up in a few weeks – laparascopy for endometriosis.

Dr. Lunge (aka my fertility specialist) says there may or may not be symptoms. So the only way for me to really know is to have him get out his small scalpel and small camera and go digging around my big barren uterus. (I don’t mean to sound cynical, but I’m pretty sure if this was something men could get, they would be able to diagnosis it with a phone call).

While I really want to know whether I have endometriosis or not, I do have a problem with needles and blood (and being infertile). So clearly I’ve been hoping to get pregnant in the five months since I first booked my surgery. That obviously hasn’t happened. My period is due on Friday, and as I mentioned yesterday, the fact that I’ve been acting like Cookie Monster and Oscar the Grouch on crack means it’s probably coming.

So in addition to having to buy tampons on Friday, I’ll also have to attend my pre-surgical consult with Dr. Lunge that morning. In eager anticipation, I’ve done some background reading on the laparascopy. I got a great link from one of the people I “follow” on Twitter: http://ow.ly/3wbx

After reading through the article, I would have to say my favourite part is: “Once the anesthesia has taken effect, the doctor will make a small cut around your belly button. Through this cut, a needle will be used to fill your abdomen with carbon dioxide gas.” Gas! No one said anything about gas!

Anyway – I don’t read these things too closely because I am such a wuss. And I really don’t want to think about it until after I get back from my vacation in NYC. But I know when the car is pointed for home, I will be super stressed out. (poor hubby – PMS and surgery stress in one month. I think they give medals for that kind of thing)

Overall, I’m trying to be positive about the experience. Maybe I’ll end up switching from the “unexplained infertility” camp to the “endometriosis” camp. Either way, I don’t have any delusions that this will be a quick fix. But at least it’s not another baby shower…I really couldn’t handle that!

Run, hubby, run!

2009-05-04T20:20:00.002-04:00

Every month during the two-week hate, I start to get these funny little cravings for chocolate, or hamburgers, or to rip my husband’s head off. Sometimes I try to convince myself that these are pregnancy related. They haven’t been yet, but nevertheless, I spend hours analyzing and comparing every twang and twing against online symptoms (some people paint for a hobby, I obsess).

Usually I can mentally talk myself out of the hope that comes with thinking that you want that pint of ice cream because you’re eating for one plus something the size of the period at the end of this sentence. It’s okay if I do it on my own, but what really drives me crazy is when my husband has the same symptoms!

For example, the other day, I was complaining about how tired I was.

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “I’m exhausted.” He even had the nerve to go to bed early! Doesn’t he understand this is an early pregnancy symptom, and not one that just anyone can have?

And then when I get mad, he has the audacity to say, “I just don’t understand.”

“it’sthattimeofthemonthgetacalendarandwriteitdown,” I’ll hiss quickly through gritted teeth.

What’s really started to drive me nuts about him right now is that he’s all of a sudden turned super healthy. I’ve actually been on a healthy kick myself for the last months and dropped several pounds. But when I’m going through my PMS hell, I need ice cream, and he better be eating some too. Instead, I get:

“Nah, I’ll skip it. It’s unhealthy.”

Oh yeah! Two can play at that game. If he goes to bed at 10 tonight, I’m going to bed at 9 tomorrow. And if all he wants to eat is brussel sprouts and salad, then all I’m going to eat is broccoli and asparagus. They'll be covered in chocolate, but still…

Infertile whisperer

2009-05-03T21:35:00.000-04:00

My hubby and I have started a tradition of going for ice cream, and then windowshopping in the pet store. We quickly bypass the bunnies, the ferrets and the birds, and go right to the back where they carry the most dangerous pet known to infertiles – the puppy. They’re not only cute, for infertiles in a vulnerable state, they can be instant mothering gratification.

We haven’t pulled the trigger yet, but we’ve both given each other that “just say it and we’ll take him home today” smile. I mean, we love our two cats, but they are kind of like having two stuffed toys that come to life at breakfast and dinner. I think I would like to be needed for more than just for my opposable thumbs that can open the bag of cat food.

In addition to our doggie windowshopping, we have started to watch the Dog Whisperer. If you haven’t seen it, the always-smiling Cesar Millan can turn a snarling pitbull into a placid playmate in just 30 mintues. (okay, that’s TV time, but still, this guy works fast!) And from what I’ve seen, many issues seem to come down to stress, or the dog feeding off of the owner’s emotions.

So if I’m going to be a dog owner, it’s good that I’m such a calm individual - if by calm you mean having my EAP provider on speed dial in case there is a sudden change in plans, or I can’t find something to wear to work in the morning. Then yes, I am Zen personified.

Okay, so maybe I do have some stress issues, but you know what I’ve found really works to chill me out? Cesar himself! And I just realized it today.

We watched a few episodes back to back this afternoon, and he kept telling the dog owners to be calm, and to stop holding the leash so tight (among other things). Anyway, I must have absorbed it because afterwards, I felt so peaceful. That’s very rare for me on a Sunday (for example, on Saturday night I dreamt my mother and the director of my company were nagging me – ah, sweet dreams are made of these…)

So I’m starting to wonder if I really need a dog, or just the dog whisperer. It would mean fewer doggie bags and meditation classes. But then who would get all excited that I just came home, or bought biscuits, or looked in their general direction? Damn those mothering pangs!

We've begun to long for the pitter-patter of little feet - so we bought a dog. Well, it's cheaper, and you get more feet.~ Rita Rudner.

Carrie - there's a seat over here!

2009-05-01T07:41:00.005-04:00

Since it's Friday, and I really don't have anything all that tragic to report, I thought I'd dish about someone else's infertility. (Anything to get me through the lovely two-week hate!)

This week it came out that Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Brodderick have a baby mama. While they already have a 6-year-old son, they apparently couldn't get pregnant again, so they hired a surrogate, who is carrying their twins. I hope they've paid that surrogate a ton of money, because I've already seen a lot of tweets on Twitter asking who she might be. Eventually she will be found, and when she is, I hope she has a really boring past.

As for SJP, she is apparently part of a club that no one wants to belong to. It's costly (in many ways), the members are prone to crying, and the sex can be a bit stale. But it's a pretty big club - and there are lots of celebrities who are members.

When I looked around on Google, I realized just how big the celebrity club was, and I don't have time to mention them all here. Instead, I've put together a quick poll on the right on "your favourite celebrity infertilie couple." Let me know what you think...I pick Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise. How come they couldn't have children together, but they can both (apparently) have children with other people? Another mystery of the universe I guess...

And in exactly two weeks, I'll be headed to NYC! And so I thought I'd post one of my favourite Manhattan pic's. Why not, right?!

One specialist at a time - thank you!

2009-04-29T20:50:00.001-04:00

I have a breast mouse, which is really a very cute name for a sac of fluid or body goo (that’s a real scientific term) rolled up to mimic a frozen pea in my right breast. Obviously, this isn’t the official name, but I like a doctor who doesn’t bog down my little brain with medical mumbo jumbo.

Today is the first time I met this new doctor, who specializes in breast cancer and laparascopy surgery (and ironically, very pregnant). Now before you get worried, there is absolutely nothing wrong. I was referred to her as a precaution by my regular GP. When I found a little lump a few months back, she sent me to do all sorts of tests (I’ve never been felt up more in my life). And because of some family history, my GP thought it would be a good idea to at least see this specialist. Her diagnosis today: follow-up in six months.

I was so relieved, mostly because she didn’t recommend a major surgery, or weekly visits. You see, she is the third specialist I’ve had in five years. So in addition to my fertility specialist, who I see on a regular basis (sometimes in red shorts doing lunges), before him I was seeing a gynecologist for an abnormal pap smear. The gynecologist was the one who actually referred me to the fertility guy, but only after he performed cryotherapy (think sticking your wet tongue on a freezing cold pole in the winter, only not your tongue).

So over the last few years, I’ve spent a LOT of time in doctor’s offices. I’m sure my boss thinks I’ve been interviewing for jobs, because it just doesn’t seem possible that a 33-year-old seemingly healthy woman (minus the mental issues) would need to go to the doctor this much. But unfortunately, it’s true.

I’m just happy that the diagnosis today was an uncomplicated one. Now I can go back to seeing just the fertility specialist. And at the absolute worst, if I never have children, I can always name the breast mouse.

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.~Albert Einstein

Damn whippersnappers

2009-04-28T22:12:00.002-04:00

I was a true suburbanite last night and went to the neighbour’s for a Steeped Tea Party, where I learned how to make a facemask, remove dead skin cells, and make a tasty marinade for chicken – all with the same tea leaf (your dinner invitations are in the mail).

I also learned that I’m really old. Not old like I have liver spots and need a walker, but old like by the time I have kids and they go to university my pension cheques may bounce when they steal them from my purse to go to the bar (I already have such high hopes for little Timmy and Sally).

But not this perky little hostess of the party. Nope, she may be the one throwing the keggers! From the moment she started her spiel, I pegged her at around early 40s (and a young one at that). She confirmed as much later on. And she mentioned her son and daughter a lot during her sales pitch - how much her daughter liked this facemask, and how she hid this soap in her son's sock drawer (I’m not even sure we drank any hot tea last night). But it was the whole discussion over iced tea that threw me.

“My son just loves iced tea,” she gushed holding up her nifty jug. “And we both love it with a bit of vodka in it.”

Pardon? Did you say vodka? How old is this kid? Well, turns out he’s 17 (Phew, I thought she was irresponsible, but turns out she’s just really liberal).

Now, I’m not saying she had kids too young. She was in her early 20s. That doesn’t seem that unusual to me. What does shock me is thinking about living with a teenager at my age. I’m still a teenager myself! My parents make up food packages for us to go in our freezer, one neighbour mows our lawn, and another snowblows our driveway in the winter (we’re happy to just drive over the snow until it packs right down). We spend more time complaining about chores than doing them, and have, on occasion, had ice cream for breakfast. That doesn’t sound mature enough to me to have teenagers.

I’m also not saying I wish I had kids when I was younger. According to my life plan, I was supposed to have children at 32. So even at that age, I would have been 50 when they hit university. But now I’m 33 (turning 34 in a few weeks). So the youngest I could be is 34, and at the rate I’m going that seems pretty unlikely. What if I’m 39? I may be in my 60s and still reprimanding them for staying out all night. Good lord!

I was feeling kind of down because there’s really nothing I can do about it. But then I flipped open the tea brochure and there it was – Oolong tea for “younger looking skin.”

My keg of Oolong tea leaves should arrive in about a week. I just hope it works, otherwise I’ll just be super hyper and have a lot of really soft chicken breasts.

Hecklers at a baby shower - who knew?

2009-04-26T19:46:00.008-04:00

I learned today there is one type of person more cynical than an infertile at a baby shower – a great-grandparent at a baby shower. And unlike me, they aren’t afraid to heckle.

Let me introduce Great-grandma A and B. They were seated beside each other on a couch right up front (just like hecklers in a comedy club), and it didn’t take long for them to tell me how they thought it was wrong the parents, and everyone at the shower, knew the baby was a boy.

“I think these things are private,” said Great-grandma A.
“Yes, we know too much now,” said Great-grandma B.

Once the first piece of tissue paper hit the floor, they really got going.

“Those are socks?” asked Great-grandma A.
“Yeah, they call those socks now. They used to call them booties,” said Great-grandma B, jabbing Great-grandma A in the ribs.
“What is that? A robe?” Great-grandma B said, referring to a wrap-around shirt for babies.
“I don’t know. I thought it was a vest,” said Great-grandma A.

They reminded me of those two grumpy guys who sat in the balcony on the Muppet Show and heckle the other puppets (I couldn’t remember their names but Wikipedia says they are Statler and Waldorf).

And when the mom-to-be read out a card from one of the great grandmothers, Grandma A piped up:

“That’s right, we are great.”
“Is that because we’re so big?” said Great-grandma B.
“No! Because of our personality,” said Great-grandma A.

At least I wasn’t part of a comedy routine because I’m pleased to report that I didn’t knock over the punch bowl or fall in the driveway. But I was sweating by the end, and hoping I didn’t have half-moons on the armpits of my shirt (it’s a lot of work repressing your scream for three hours).

The mom-to-be looked horrible – I wish! She actually looked stunning in a black wrap-around dress and pink necklace. And she hasn’t gained a pound anywhere except her belly, not even around her face! If that was me, I’d look like Jabba the Hut and I would have some sort of rare pregnancy boils.

Baby shower by the numbers:
# of Sophie the Giraffes: 3
# of baby shower games: 2 – one where you had to match the baby with the celebrity parent, and another where you had to fill in the blank in the nursery rhyme (I think the great-grandmothers did better than me on both.)
# of plastic knives: Oddly, none. Do you think they did that for me?

Will I make a "Giraffe" of myself at the baby shower?

2009-04-25T20:20:00.006-04:00

In the last two days, I've spent 3.5 hours hiking off my pre-baby shower stress. I've gone to the mall twice to find something to wear (and with the help of my friend "heart-shaped uterus" picked up a cute black dress). And I've spent more than a few minutes wondering how many other attendees know about "Sophie the Giraffe."

Sophie was recommended to me by a mom who swears by it. I always like to take a recommendation, so Friday after work, I drove straight to the trendiest baby store I know, and picked one up. But then I started to wonder - if I haven't seen the baby shower registry (it's for a store in Toronto and it's not posted online) could someone else have been as brilliant as me? I mean, Sophie the Giraffe was on Oprah. It's too late either way, but I'm imagining a Noah's ark type scenario.

Now, whenever I start to feel a bit high stress, I also tend to become a bit of a spazz. (In my single days, a good friend once compared me to Bridget Jones). I've never gone down a pole with my butt sticking out, or run after a guy in the snow wearing just my underwear, but I'm certain I've cooked something awful, and I've definitely said the wrong thing in front of a large group of people.

So who knows what could happen tomorrow. To prove my point, at one baby shower I went to I got bumped by a car in the parking lot - honest! We went to court and everything. It could be less dramatic than that tomorrow. Maybe my dress will blow over my head in the parking lot, or a spinach leaf will lodge itself between my two front teeth, or even better, I'll fall on a table of food.

At least if I fall, I'll try and do it on top of Sophie the Giraffe. She is a squeaky toy after all.

I think people talk too much anyway. Sometimes people are talking to me and in my mind I'm just like "shut up, shut up, shut up...blah blah blah blah blaaaaah. ~Ellen DeGeneres

A heart-shaped uterus to the rescue

2009-04-23T22:17:00.005-04:00

Tomorrow is the start of the weekend. And I mean THE weekend – you know, the one where I’ll learn: (a) what dozens of biological clocks sound like when they go off at the same time; (b) how to make a hat/dress/baby out of a cloth diaper and baby pins; and (c) why people murder.

But before I start sharpening those plastic knives for the baby shower, I think I’ll be able to take the edge off a bit on Saturday. That’s because a good friend of mine (who I’ll call “Heart-Shaped Uterus”) is coming for a visit! And it will be quite a bitch session, because as (bad) luck would have it, she also has a shower this Sunday! (when God closes a door…yada yada yada)

Heart-Shaped Uterus and I are the last ones in our families and among our friends to be baby-less. And with these showers coming up, we may be particularly vengeful and destructive. Particularly since her shower is for a relative who got pregnant by accident. (The last accident I had involved a broken water bottle and my purse.)

Now, what shall we do? I like the suggestion I got from Melissa of Quest for Mommihood of a few drinks at the bar after the shower. But I need some ideas for the Saturday as part of my prep...hmm…I wonder how evil a heart-shaped uterus can be?

Women complain about PMS, but I think of it as the only time of the month when I can be myself.~Roseanne Barr

My fertility specialist can do a mean lunge

2009-04-20T20:07:00.001-04:00

There are certain people you never want to see in shorts. In high school, there was a math teacher who always wore these really small red shorts. Once he cut through the gym in his leg-baring fashions during the intermission of a basketball game and a kid yelled out: “Hey, price check on the red shorts – price check.” Obviously, I am not alone in my short snobbery.

Aside from teachers, doctors rank pretty high up for me as people that I never want to see in casual wear – particularly my own doctors. But, when you live in a community of 300,000, you are bound to run into a man who has touched your cervix when he isn’t exactly dressed for business. In my case, it was at the gym. He was wearing shorts (coincidentally they were also red) doing lunges, with a barbell in each hand. He came lunging past me as I stood up to put my mat back.

The corners of my mouth twitched momentarily into a smile, until my brain took over and yelled: “Hello! The last time this person saw you, you were in stirrups.” Luckily, my mouth straightened out before he even noticed me standing there, staring open-mouthed.

Luckily he didn’t say anything either – at least he didn't this time. After my first appointment with him, we had a quick exam and chat. By the time I got dressed and had booked my next appointment, he was standing in the pharmacy drinking a Coke.

“See you Sandra,” he shouted out and waved through the open, glass door.

“Um, see you,” I said, ducking down the stairwell quickly.

Do you find that your doctor/specialist is this “friendly” with you? I don’t know…I think I’ve rather we pretend we have never seen each other before…and I really prefer not to know how many lunges he can do.

All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt. ~Charles M. Schulz

The verdict...

2009-04-16T22:15:00.002-04:00

God - it's clear you didn't hear me on Tuesday. Despite my heartfelt plea, I have been subjected to two pregnancy announcements while watching TV - one of them was a weight-loss show for goodness sake!

That's it! I curse you (fist pumping in the air).

Infertile and counting!

2009-04-14T21:59:00.002-04:00

Dear God,

I know there are starving children in the world, but I am writing to you with a very important request. I would like you to personally filter all television shows so that when I stop on a TV program - like I just did - that it is fast-forwarded past any mention of pregnancy and/or babies.

Just so we are clear on what I am asking, I will give you an example. Tonight I stopped at the show “18 Kids and Counting” (because I’m infertile and fascinated at Costco-style procreation)…and the son who JUST got married announced they are expecting their first baby.

Now, in the future, please make sure that I am not subjected to this type of segment again. And please make sure to erase the part where the parents ask them how many kids they want to have (for those of you who didn’t see this episode, they said as many as God will allow, but one or two will do…I guess they don’t want to be too greedy)

In closing, please make sure that this change is effective immediately. I will conduct a test in the next five minutes by turning on one of my favourite shows – Project Runway Canada. If Jessica, a runway model (or Jason or Sunny) announces they are pregnant, I will curse you to the high heavens. But if not, I’ll know that you have taken my request into serious consideration.

Sincerely,
Sandra

Worse than a period?

2009-04-12T11:41:00.000-04:00

It came last week. Nope, not my period - but probably just as frightening. The shower invitation.

At first I got excited when I thought someone had sent me a card. All mail that is either a card or an invitation has that distinct smaller envelope, and is more rigid than a bill (yes, I am the kid that felt every Christmas present). But as soon as I tore into the envelope and saw the blue paper, I knew I was sorely wrong.

So my question now is - do I go?

When I first found out this person was pregnant, I went into a mommyoma (comas for mom wannabees). That meant a pint of chocolate ice cream, several sessions of the “ugly cry”, and finally the call to the friend who always knows what to say.

“What a bitch!” was her response.

Now just to clarify, this person is not a bitch at all. In fact, she is the wife of a good guy friend of mine, and really very nice. But when you head into that coma, you sometimes need to hear something really nasty said about the fertility unchallenged.

When I got the shower invitation, I didn’t call this friend again, or fall into another mommyoma, and I’m actually wondering if I could manage this shower. I have already survived a dinner with them at about her 5-month mark. In fact, I give myself big props for not collapsing on their living room floor in tears and having to be carried out like James Brown.

Instead the evening went like this - my husband and I arrived at their house at 6:30. We had a quick drink (me a big glass of red wine) and we were at the restaurant by 7:30 (I ate chicken curry, hubby had lamb). We got back to their place at 9, and we went on our semi-merry way by 9:30. I patted myself on the back on the whole drive home.

“Wasn’t I good? Wasn’t I?” I beamed at my husband from the passenger seat.

“Yeah, I couldn’t even tell you were upset!” he said, patting my arm.

To her credit, she was really very gentle about the whole thing - didn't force sonogram pictures down my throat, or let baby stuff overtake the conversation. She just answered questions when I asked them. And god forbid I take away someone's excitement. I've tried really hard not to do that.

At one point in the evening, I asked her about the labour, and she quickly changed the subject. That's when I had a shift in perception. Perhaps she wasn’t worried about getting pregnant like I was, but maybe she was scared of other things - like labour, the health of her baby, and being a good mom.

So I guess I have my answer – I guess I will go. But if they make me play any stupid baby games, I may lick all the icing off her cute baby cupcakes.

You know the oxygen masks on airplanes? I don’t think there’s really any oxygen. I think they’re just used to muffle the screams. ~ Rita Rudner.

I might as well laugh

2009-04-11T10:01:00.000-04:00

There is nothing funny about infertility. That doesn’t mean this isn’t the most absurd experience I’ve ever been through.

First of all there are the sex conversations – and not just with my doctor – with friends, acquaintances and even co-workers. Every time someone asks me if hubby and I are trying to have kids, the translation in my head is always: “So, you two really hittin’ it, or what?” Add to that the conversations about frequency, position and quality of sex with the fertility specialist and mom – say no more.

Sometimes it feels as absurd as the scene in the movie “She’s Having a Baby” with Kevin Bacon and Elizabeth McGovern. If you haven’t seen it, they play this couple having trouble getting pregnant, and in one scene, her parents are at the end of the bed wearing helmets with lights on them, and directing his every thrust. It has crossed my mind during some of our more exciting baby-making sessions.

And then there are the rituals. I have one fertility-challenged friend (husband has low sperm count) who was told by her fertility specialist that her husband should ice and then heat his scrotum at varying intervals close to sex. She had to do something similar on her abdomen. Was this before or after they got out the champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries?

Don’t forget the strange comments. Another friend with fertility issues (low progesterone/multiple miscarriages) told me that after one baby-making session with her husband he said, “I don’t even know if I like sex anymore.” She was able to laugh as she told me this story over lunch because by then her infertility problems had been solved and her infant son was drooling and cooing adorably nearby.

But I say why wait to laugh. Who knows how this will all turn out? I’d rather get through the dreaded two-week wait – and this whole process – without cracking. So instead, I’m going to try cracking up.

I am thankful for laughter, except when milk comes out of my nose. ~Woody Allen