Archive for January, 2009

I think she needs a permit for that stick shift.

Things are moving S-L-O-W-L-Y in the IVF world.  After having a long talk with my ovaries on Monday I felt we were on the same page ovulation wise.  Basically I told them to shape up because we had a lot of work to do in the next month.  They responded with a “screw you, do you really think we are looking forward to getting a needle stuck in us and all our eggs to get sucked out?  We are going to take our sweet time.”  Touche’.

My Tuesday acupuncture appointment went great.  I told my acu I needed to ovulate and 30 needles and 20 minutes later, I felt some real action going on.  Ha, take that, you stubborn ovaries!  I noticed some pain around my left ovary and it just had to be getting ready to ovulate!  After about an hour the pain went away so I hoped that was it.

Over the next 2 days I focused on my floors.  My sanding is done and I was finally able to put down two coats of polyurethane in the kitchen and half the bedroom.  That means no matter where I go in the house, I’m overwhelmed by the smell of polyurethane and I think hubby and I are starting to hallucinate.  In fact, I’m probably going to put on Zepplin, sit on the couch and let my brain turn to mush.  Oh, wait, was that just a stork outside?  Should I check my doorstep for a basket?  No. It was just the headlights of hubby’s jeep pulling in the driveway.  Oh well, no baskets on the door step but he comes bearing food.  Always a good thing.  Food.  Or baskets.  What was I talking about?  I’d better open a window.

Anyway, I had replaced about 10 old maple planks with new ones and even though they are the same wood, 130 years puts a lot of character into wood that the new stuff couldn’t even dream of.  I needed to try to age to new wood so at least it wouldn’t stick out like a nun at a nude beach.  Suddenly I digressed back to chemistry class in high school (where, by the way, I learned about everything BUT chemistry, yay public school budget cuts!)  I started by boiling about 10 teabags in a pot of water and wiping the tea on the boards.  Pretty good, but not enough.  I decided to give coffee a try.  A little darker but still not aged enough.  Then I put aside the non-toxic crap and brought out the smelly, sticky, you-have-to-wear-a-mask-to-use-it stain.  After mixing 3 stains together and practicing on some extra maple boards I finally got my new floor boards to at least look like they belong.  I have to say, they don’t match exactly but they look pretty darn good!  Seriously, I need my own HGTV show.  The kitchen and half the bedroom are now done and they just need a few days for the finish to harden so I can move the furniture back.  I’ll do the other half of the bedroom this weekend and I should have the house back in order by the middle of next week.  Since we couldn’t sleep in the bedroom last night, hubby and I stayed in the living room.  He was on the floor and I took the couch.  The blanket I wanted to use was in the dryer and for some reason was still wet when I took it out.  So I’m laying on the couch (comfy to sit on, not so much to lay on) with the windows opened about 4 inches and I’m covered in a blanket that is still damp.  Oh, and everytime I started falling asleep, I couldn’t help but think it was actually me being suffocated by the smell of the poly.  I slept all of 3 hours with the cat staring at me the whole time.  Creepy.  Then I had to get up super early for another blood test complete with ultrasound. 

That’s when the fun began.  I like to sleep until the very last second which means I’m usually rushing around like a crazy fool trying to get out the door.  Of course it snowed yesterday and the nice fluffy snow that covered my car yesterday turned into crusty, icy snow today.  Great.  Let me get my chistle.  Now I’m tired, grumpy and cold and I found out the hard way that I ran out of washer fluid.  It was fun driving down the highway looking through the one clear strip on the windshield that was only made possible because I was behind a truck that hit a puddle.  I get to the lab and of course my info is wrong when I check in.  It always is.  I don’t know what they do when I give them my information.  I think they just start typing anything and hit save so the next time I go in my chart reads:kdoie fwierl, ksieiron kgiriidiwnt, sldfijeog.  Seriously.  They have to correct it every time.  And then they wind up re-entering me into the system all while telling me that I’ll have to have a new number.  Oh gee.  Since I have no idea what you are talking about and have never seen any of these “numbers” I’ll take your word for it and stand here for 20 minutes while you do exactly what the lady did the last time I was here.

First came the ultrasound.  The tech was looking a bit pissy and told me I was supposed to be there by 7:30.  Sorry, Nurse Newbie told me 8:30.  I’ll make sure I’m on time next time.  I guess that apology wasn’t enough because I could swear I saw her snarl and her eyes flash red when she turned away.  Hmm.  That can’t be good.  In the u/s room I did the whole undress from the waist down and wrap up in the sheet thing and lay down on the table.  It was the first time I was comfy in 24 hours and I joked to the tech that I would probably fall asleep.  She had other plans for me.  First, she asked if I wanted to put the wand in myself.  (Off topic: a wand is something fairy’s have to grant wishes, I think we need to find a new term for this thing.)  I thanked her for giving me the option and that this is the only bit of control in this whole process I have.  She responded with “Oh, you’re one of those.”  Yeah, lady.  I’m one of “those”.  I’m one of those people who believes that when someone else sticks that damn “wand” in my nether regions they probably don’t realize it actually hurts.  When I do it, I go a little slower so that it is more comfortable.  So, yeah lady, I’m one of “those” people who would like to find a little comfort in what is a mostly uncomfortable process.  Jerk.  It took all my restraint not to knock her over the head with the “wand”.  So I get it in ok and she grabs it and starts shoving it around like she was conducting Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries in Symphony Hall.  She obviously drives an automatic because she can’t handle a stick for crap.  Between my winces of pain I asked her if my ovaries were hard to find.  No.  They weren’t.  Then I was beginning to think she was trying to look at my throat because she was shoving that thing so far up inside.  Hey, lady, the “wand” doesn’t actually go INSIDE the uterus!  Geez.  I mean, if I look real hard I can practically see my ovaries from the outside, what the heck is she doing in there?  Next thing I know she’s pulling out the “wand” like she is unplugging a hole in a dam.  Youch!  So that was it, thank God.  2 follicles on my left ovary and none on my right.  So if I was sufficiently fertile like everyone else I know, this would have been my month to have twins.  OK, maybe not, but I felt like I was wasting those 2 lovely follicles.  Oh well.  Get ready, ovaries, next month you’ll have more follicles than you bargined for!

The blood test was uneventful.  I got a male tech this time and he was actually not completely terrified of me.  I kind of curled up on the recliner as he was putting in the needle and put my hand over my face (you know, in case I just can’t resist the urge to peek) and tech Pick Pick came by with a glass of cranberry juice.  Did I look that bad?  One vial later and I was off.

Later that night I get a call from someone at the clinic (I say someone because my usual IVF nurse is probably mad at me and Nurse Newbie is probably in a corner crying from our last conversation) saying I have to go back on Saturday by 9:30 for ANOTHER blood test.  OK, are there a bunch of vampires over there?  3 blood tests in 5 days and I haven’t even started stimming yet.  Oh well.  I’m hoping I’ve ovulated so I can get started on Lupron already.  Let’s get this party started!  Good news?  My poor bajingo gets a break since I don’t need an ultrasound.  Yay!


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Ovulate, schmovulate.

It’s the 26th.  Hurrah!  The day I see if I can start Lupron.  I set my alarm for 6:30am, and after sleeping for probably 4 hours I woke up at 6:19.  Seriously?  I couldn’t have slept the extra 11 minutes?  There was no point in trying to squeeze in a teeny bit more sleep so I just lay there waiting for the clock to buzz.  Then it was get dressed fast, grab some water and a banana and run out to the car before I get frostbite.  The thermostat in the car read 0.  Zero. Ziltch.  Meaning there is not one hint of heat anywhere outside.  My freezer is set to zero, what does that tell you.  Basically I was feeling like a frozen waffle.  Great way to start the day.  The blood test was pretty much as expected.  I sit in the waiting room wondering which one of the lab techs I’m getting stuck with (ha! no pun intended!).  I always get the guy (we’ll call him lab tech Crackasmile because, well, he doesn’t…and I’ve tried!) Poor Crackasmile, he ushers me into the blood letting room and tells me to sit in the chair.  You know the one, it looks like the chairs from college that have a tiny little desk, just enough room for your arm and a notebook and me being a lefty always getting stuck with the righty desk and having to do a half turn to take notes.  I always hated those chairs.  Maybe that’s why I hate the ones in the lab.  So I stop Crackasmile in his tracks and tell him that I need to recline in the comfy chair or he will be picking me up off the floor.  I also told him if he didn’t think he could get my blood with one stick, then he should find someone who could.  This is my usual speech to the lab techs and it’s usually the guys who look at me like deer in headlights.  I could tell Crackasmile wanted to run for the hills because he started sweating and averting his gaze, all while mumbling that he’ll get the other tech because she is better with the comfy chair.  Sure, Crackasmile, whatever makes you sleep at night.  So I got lab tech Pick pick.  I’ve had her before and I really like her except for the fact that she likes to pick at everything and basically act like she’s my grandmother or something.  “You really need to drink more water”, or “you’re too skinny, that’s why it’s hard to find a vein”, or my favorite one “It’s good you don’t like needles, that way you won’t hurt yourself”.  What?  Anyway, I’ll take the pickiness since she is pretty good at getting my blood.  Not great, but one poke and we are done.  Nevermind its usually on the side of my wrist a couple of inches below my thumb and it hurts like nobody’s business, but she get’s the job done. 

Then it was off to Home Depot to rent a sander and the rest of my day was spent in a cloud of dust.  My kitchen floor at looking awesome and I have half the bedroom sanded and I’ll do the other half tomorrow before accupuncture.  Then it’s on to finishing the floors and then I’m DONE! 

Hubby and I were in the car together when I got the call from Nurse Newbie (very sweet, but just started at the RE’s office and doesn’t know crap) and she cheerfully told me that I hadn’t ovulated yet so I couldn’t start Lupron and I had to go back for another blood test and ultrasound on Thurs. to see if things changed.  I didn’t what?  It’s CD26 and my ovaries chose this month to go on vacation?  I ALWAYS ovulate between CD12 and 14 but I don’ t know what is up with my cycle because after I stopped the pill I got another period.  So is that my new cycle?  If so, I am on CD14 and should be ovulating as I’m writing this.  So I had hubby call back so I could get some insight.  I got the call (they really are good at calling back) and it went like this:

ME:  Do you have any idea what is up with my body?

Nurse Newbie: Not really, but don’t worry about it.

ME: I’m concerned that the BCP messed me up and now I won’t ovulate this month and my cycle will get cancelled.

Nurse Newbie: Nah, that won’t happen.  You’ll ovulate eventually. 

ME: So I will ovulate?

Nurse Newbie:  Sure, but you might not.  But we really aren’t worried.

ME:  Oh that’s nice that you’re not worried.  When I ovulate, will I start Lupron?

Nurse Newbie: Probably not yet.

There was more to the conversation but as you can see it really lacked substance.  Needless to say, I’m in a holding pattern.  I’m going to finish my floors, and then I guess I’ll have to find a new project to keep me occupied until the stars align and I can get started with this freakin’ IVF cycle.  Maybe I can start tearing off the siding on the house.  There’s nothing wrong with it but it will certainly be a distraction.  And who knows, I might be ready to start this IVF cycle when I’m done.  Where’s my crowbar?  If I haven’t ovulated by Thurs, I’m starting the demo.

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My little project is out of control!

So I have been trying to get this kitchen floor refinished before I started my stims and I thought I was on track until I realized that my little project that was supposed to distract me took on a life of it’s own!  After I took up all the tile I found my maple floor was in pretty good shape except for about 10 planks.  Not bad for a 130 year old floor.  I’ve never replaced flooring before but figured, hey, how hard can it be?  Answer…very hard.  I have done a lot of back breaking work on this house and some of it I said I never wanted to do again (like refinishing floors!) but out of everything I have done, replacing part of an old floor is the one thing I will NEVER do again.  You couldn’t pay me enough.  I have inhaled more dust (130 year old dust), given myself more bruises (forget the bruises on my hand, I have them all over my legs now too, I have terrible aim with the hammer), and have strained more muscles than I ever thought possible.  The floor was fighting me every inch of the way but my will was stronger and I won!  Now comes the easy part of sanding and finishing it.  Of course, why rent a sander for 4 hours to do one room when I can rent it for 24 hours and do the bedroom, too.  So hubby and I spent the better part of today taking out furniture and, well, all our crap out of the bedroom so that I can sand refinish that floor as well.  I’m planning on being knee deep in dust for a few days but it will be worth it!  I just hope it’s not a big deal to be using polyurethane before I do IVF.  I’ll be wearing a mask and gloves and the windows will be open (hello 14 degrees!) so I’m thinking I’ll be fine.  I can’t wait to finish this project, it’s going to look great.  And this is going to hopefully be my last hurrah when it comes to house projects.  I hope I’ll be too pregnant to do anything but sign a check for a contractor if I want something else done!

On the IVF front, I go in for my blood test tomorrow (actually, today) at 8am to see if I ovulated.  If I did (fingers crossed!) then I start Lupron tomorrow.  I have no idea what is up with my cycle after that weird mid-month period.  Do I count it as a new cycle or pretend it didn’t happen?  I don’t know.  I don’t really care as long as I ovulated at some point this month so I can get this IVF cycle started.  I can’t believe I’m actually looking forward to giving myself shots.  Scratch that.  I’m not looking forward to giving myself shots, I’ll just be happy to get the ball rolling.  I feel like I have been waiting for a long time to start.  Is it possible to fast forward to the part where I’m pregnant?  No?  Well, I’ll just have to keep distracting myself.  In the meantime, I’m not thrilled about waking up before 7am so I can drive an hour to get my blood taken.  And it’s not like I can come home and sleep, either.  My floors will never forgive me.

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Will an Obama administration get me pregnant?

I’m not one for all the hype you see on tv these days.  I see a red carpet and I’m like “Yeah, that’s nice” and turn the channel.  I’ll look at who was the best and worst dressed online the next day.  So when it came time for Obama to get sworn in, I really wasn’t getting caught up in the star power of the event.  I didn’t care who was singing, who was wearing who, who was invited to the ball, dinner, lunch, after-party party, before the party brunch… you get the point.  I just wanted to see our next president get sworn in like they have been doing for 200 years.  It’s a historic moment I was happy to be a part of but I wasn’t about to petition my town to rename my street to Obama Road.  There is a long road ahead and I’m waiting to see if the new president can weather the storm that’s been brewing.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited for this new chapter in our country’s history.  I think Obama will help heal our image overseas and build us back up here at home.  I am realistic, though.  I know it’s going to take a while.  That’s ok, I’m patient.  I voted for the guy, so I do have some faith in him.  How much faith?  Time will tell.  Of course, I voted for Bush last time so I might not have the best track record.  Anyway, since I don’t want this turning into a political commentary…zzzzz… I’ll get to my point.

I was sitting in my acupuncturist’s office and we were all watching the inauguration, in fact my 12:00 appointment turned into a 12:30 so we could all enjoy his speech.  After, as I lay on the table trying to relax with an incredible amount of needles stuck in me, I starting thinking that for my entire marriage Bush was president.  We got married in 2000 and think of all the stress this country has been through since then.  Plus, there has been a lot of stress personally and mix it all together and you get anxious me.  So as I’m listening to the Native American drum music my acupuncturist put on for me, I thought, hey, Obama is promising change and hope.  That is exactly what I need.  Maybe part of my problem in trying to have a baby was the stress of the Bush administration.  Maybe I need some of Obama’s change!  I know, it’s a crazy thought, but I’m trying to get some hope from anyplace I can find it.  Why not the new administration?  He’s promising change, well, I can use some of that.  We’ll have to see what happens now that Bush is back in Texas and a new family is in the White House.  My change is finally getting pregnant.  My hope is that this IVF is successful.  OK, so the president has nothing to do with that, but I can’t help but feel optimistic today.  I’m sure I’ll look back at this entry in a few days and wonder what in God’s name I was thinking, but I have been bombarded by Obama today and so that’s what’s in my head!

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Project Clean Slate: 3 days and 15 bruises later…

After the first night of trying to get the slate in the kitchen up, I realized that 1. heating up the slate will allow them to pop up in one piece so I don’t have to chistle them like I’m Michaelangelo carving a statue and, 2. I should have worn work gloves.  A little note about me.  I bruise like a peach.  Seriously.  I have a bruise on my stomach under my belly button from acupuncture from 3 weeks ago and it still hasn’t gone away.  You just have to look at me funny and I’ll bruise.  So, while I was taking up tile and missed the chistle and hit my knuckle with the hammer, I knew I was in trouble.  After hitting the same knuckle about 5 times, I decided to wage war against the slate.  It was NOT going to get the best of me.  So, bruised knuckles (a thumb and a finger) or not, I was not going to stop.  Even after I cut my hand on a sharp edge of broken slate today, I pressed on.  Now I have over half of it up.  And of course, I have uncovered the reason for the slate in the first place.  I was curious why someone would glue slate over maple floors, now I know.  They were lazy.  There is a small patch of wood that is either rotten or was chewed up by a dog or something.  There is also a silver dollar sized hole in another section.  So now I get to learn the skill of repairing a wood floor.  Time to get out the Home Depot book of home repairs.  I was worried hubby would give me the “I told you so” talk when he saw the floor, but he seemed to take it well.  What am I saying, why wouldn’t he take it well?  It’s not like he’s the one repairing the wood!  He was great today, though.  He moved an electrical outlet in the kitchen so now I can plug in my Aerogarden and have a plug left over for the iron or my rotissarie or whatever.  I might corner the market on wood refinishing, but he’s pretty good with electrical.  Anyway, I’m thinking I should be done with the slate in a few days and then I have to get up the adhesive that was under it.  Hopefully by next weekend the floor will be ready to patch up and refinish.  Yay!  Just in time for me to hopefully start my Lupron on the 26th.  Things are going to move fast after that.  I’m trying not to dwell on it.  I have been reading other IVF blogs and there was on that made me a little concerned.  The woman talked about how she has lost a lot of friends through her stuggle with infertility.  She said that at first they were all supportive but after awhile, they drifted off into their own lives.  It’s like they were fine with being there for her until they realized that her struggle was lasting too long and then they were gone.  I have drifted away from friends over the past 5 years, many of them have started their families and we don’t have much in common anymore.  But now I have wonderful friends (some that are pregnant) who I really don’t want to drift away.  I know I have to make the effort to keep the friendships alive, but I guess the question on my mind is am I upsetting to be around because of my struggle with infertility?  I don’t talk about it that much.  I only share what I’m going through with a very select few, and even then they only know if I’m going through a treatment or something.  It’s not in every conversation, actually, it’s not in most of them.  But do people who are not in this struggle look at me with pity and does that pity turn into fear that somehow my infertility will rub off on them?  That’s probably why I find solace online.  It’s like we are in this exclusive club that no one wants to be in but we know there is nothing we can do about it.  Nothing but support each other because for some, maybe most of us, that is the only support we get.  And once we are in the club, even if we finally do have children, we will never forget where we came from.  At least most of us.  I want to forget the pain I feel every month, but I never want to forget how much I wanted to have children.  WHEN I get pregnant, I always want to be thankful for my miracle(s).  I am so grateful for the support I have found online, not only because these woman know exactly how I am feeling and they know exactly what to say to make me feel better, but because hopefully I won’t have to rely on the support of my friends who have never been through this and who may one day say “This is too much for me” and drift away.  I kind of wish I didn’t read that blog, but in a way I’m glad I did. 

So, I guess my floor didn’t distract me as much as I would have liked it to today.  It’s probably because I got better with the hammer and didn’t whack any fingers or toes.  There’s always tomorrow, though.  That hammer was giving me the fuzzy eyeball earlier; I think it’s looking for a fight.  Well, it’s on…just let me ice my knuckle first.

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Today I took control.

Ok, maybe that’s a little too dramatic and “Lifetime” sounding but my first choice of  “I was finally sick and tired of stepping on a freezing cold slate floor everytime I wanted to make myself a cup of tea, I mean, slate in only HALF the kitchen?  Who does that?” seemed a little too long.  Now, I love my house.  I love that it was built back in 1880 and that it has all these great features that give it character that you would have to pay an arm and a leg to get in a new house.  Of course, with old houses come years and years of other people’s idea of what is considered “renovating”.  I like to show friends that come over for the first time the listing sheet with the pictures of what the house looked like before we moved in.  The usual reaction is “Wow, I don’t think I would have been able to see past the (insert any room of the house here).”  That’s right, we had a kitchen with Magic Eye wallpaper, kelly green cabinets and, brace yourselves, an outdoor rug glued to the floor.  And that was the first room you walked in.  We won’t get into the evergreen colored rugs that started in the foyer and crept up the stairs to the 2nd floor hallway.  Or the pink curtains in the living room and pink vertical blinds in the dining room.  No, if you made it out of the kitchen without having a seizure, the rest of the house seemed tame.  Of course, when I look at the house, I saw the 12 foot ceilings, the original maple floors hidden under the rugs and the original woodwork.  So when we moved in I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.  I love to work on my house.  I refinished all the woodwork, I pulled up rugs (with the help of hubby) and refinished the floors (yes, folk, all by myself), I painted walls and turned cabinets that looked like a leprachaun painted them into gleeming white cabinets with crisp stainless knobs.  The last thing in the kitchen was the floor.  Not a job to look forward to.  We even put stick tile on top of the rug because who wants to pry up a glued down rug from a floor made of God-only-knows.  The result, however, was a very bouncy floor.  Then one day the cat dish leaked, the floor started to buckle and the rug had to come up.  And what did it reveal?  More gorgeous maple floors, until…we walked over to the 2nd half of the kitchen near the stove, sink and fridge.  What was there?  Slate.  Slate with specks of adhesive on it that wouldn’t come off.  Hubby loved it, I hated it.  But since I loved hubby, I put up with the slate for 3 years.  I washed it even though it never looked clean, I put down a rug by the sink so my feet wouldn’t get frostbite when I stood there, I smiled when hubby would gush over the lovely blue slate (mind you, the only blue in the kitchen).  But I worked on him.  I was ever so descrete.  Well, maybe not.  I suppose “I hate this slate” wasn’t exactly subtle.  After the new year I told him to “brace yourself, honey, 2008 last year of slate, 2009 the wood is mine”.  I thought it was clever.  Well today did it.  I had that “poor me” day yesterday, I had a terrible night sleep and when I went downstairs today I swear that slate floor absorbed the sub zero weather we were having.  If I could have gotten a brain freeze in my feet I would have.  That was it, TODAY the slate was coming up.  So before hubby came home I got out the chistle and 3 hours later I had one row up.  Ok, it took freakin’ FOREVER.  The other owners must have put down industrial strength adhesive because I actually had to chip away at each piece of slate and with every chip, another piece of slate would break.  So now I have to find something to superheat the slate so that the adhesive warms up enough so I can just lift the slate off without it breaking.  I’ve started, so I have to finish.  I want to be done before I start stimming.  That gives me at least 2 weeks.  I don’t mind working while on Lupron, but once I start the Gonal-F I don’t want to be around chemicals.  This is a great project to focus on so I can get my mind off my upcoming IVF.  Of course, today I’m excited, tomorrow I’m sure I’ll be looking for a sledgehammer to smash the remaining slate to bits!  Shhh, don’t tell hubby!  He still loves the slate. 

Oh, I also ordered these IVF meditation cds online today.  They are supposed to keep you relaxed and focused through each stage of IVF.  I should get them on monday and I’m really excited.  I don’t want the stress of the cycle could do me in so I’ll do anything to help that.  That being said, I’m going back to my chistle.

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I’m tired of being a lucky charm.

So I woke up this morning feeling great.  I had a wonderful night sleep (first one in over a week), my stomach felt good, I had a banana and my vitamin, basically my day started out perfectly.  I was planning on doing a lot of baking (did I mention I LOVE my new stove?) and I wanted to get some laundry done.  Well, as I was about to go out the door to run a few errands, hubby came home for lunch.  Yay!  I came back in with him so we could spend some time together and talk.  As I warmed up some bread that I had made the other day he asked me what an HSG test was.  Anyone who has been through fertility testing knows of the dreaded HSG.  It’s when the Dr. shoots dye through your uterus to see if it spills out your tubes on an x-ray.  Yes, it’s as uncomfortable (OK, that’s an understatement) as it sounds.  I asked if our friend (the wife of one of hubby’s co-workers who had a failed IVF cycle last year and was supposed to cycle again this month) had the test done.  I immediately felt sympathy for her…until…hubby tells me that the test probably cleaned her out because she is now pregnant!  Great.  Happy for her, VERY unhappy for me.  This was the only person I knew who had a fertility issue (unexplained like me, but they only tried for a year before they did IVF) and now she’s pregnant.  Not only am I doing this IVF cycle alone but the only other person who has even an inkling of understanding of what I’m going through is pregnant.  Now she is the last person I want to talk to about infertility.  I mean, she was able to get pregnant on her own!  Not that it’s not a miracle, but a year and a half is really not that long to get pregnant, especially when you look at my 5 years and other couple’s struggle for even longer!  Now I’m convinced hubby and I are good luck charms for all those looking to get pregnant.  All you have to do is be our friend or even spend time with us and BAM, you’re pregnant when you want to be.  It’s like we take on everyone’s potential fertility problems and they go on to be blissfully pregnant within months, yes, months of trying.  The past 4 people that I know that got pregnant did it in under 3 months.  I want a fertility lucky charm.  I’m done being one for everyone else.  In fact, I’m thinking that, to make a little extra money in this economy, I’m going to start charging all the girls I know who want to get pregnant a fee to be friends with me.  Hey, IVF is over $10,000; I’m a bargin.  So now my day has ended not in the happy way it started but in the miserable, feeling sorry for myself, convinced this cycle won’t work and I’ll be childless forever way that so many other days have ended.  My eyes are swollen from crying, my appetite is virtually gone and my chocolate chip cookies came out flat.  I just want to go to bed.  I hear stuff comes in 3’s, and I now have 2 friends pregnant.  I better be the 3rd.  If not, I’m moving someplace where all the woman are menopausal.

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