I've decided to stop writing this blog, at least for a little while.
I didn't want to just stop updating entirely. I can't stand it when people do that; just stop with no explanation.
I have nothing really new or interesting to say. Yes, I can't have a baby. Yes, that sucks. How many times/different ways/situations can I say it? It's damaged our marriage (but honestly, things were much, much worse a year ago), my self esteem, and even my outlook on life will never be the same. I just don't care to dwell upon this anymore. 2 1/2 years is long enough to let this run my life.
My mother is in remission from a cancer that could return and most likely will, given it's course. My sister has other health issues that make it impossible for her to have another child, which she was hoping to do in the new year. It puts the infertility my husband and I have experienced in perspective and almost makes me feel ashamed for all of this self centered whinging I do from time to time.
I have so many things in my life that make me happy. I think the best thing for me to do is think about those as much as possible. Which I've been doing more of lately. I still have bad days (Christmas Eve was one of these days), but you know what? Feeling sorry for myself still hasn't resulted in a baby yet. I don't think it ever will, so it's time for me to move on from this self imposed pity party as much as I can.
We aren't cycling now, and when we start, I will have more to say. So, please don't drop me from your bloglines or stop checking in. More interesting and witty repertoire will come eventually. The dildocam has missed me, or so I've heard.
I finally got good and angry at the infertility monster. I am kicking her out (or more likely, locking her in a dark closet at the back of my psyche) for good. And I am going to win this fight.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Saturday, December 15, 2007
hot mess
That's what I've been lately.
I haven't shaved my head and flashed my junk at the paparazzi (seriously, why? why? would this seem like a good idea for any reason?), but for a working girl who can't have no babies living in the 'burbs, I've done things that could be equivalents.
Such as:
- losing it (not the crying kind, the getting frustrated kind) in a meeting at work over nothing - really.
- subsequently getting chewed out in front of everyone at said meeting
- I don't think it was as bad as I thought, several people slapped me on the back and said "You've got a set!" Or maybe for this reason it was as bad as I thought? Who knows and who cares. Oh, me.
- considered walking out while humming "Take This Job and Shove It"; but realized I love too many things about my job to leave. Oh, and I need the money.
- trying to explain to D why I don't want to have sex with him anymore and actually using the phrase "It's not you, it's me." I used to have quite the desire for sexy time, so this is a tough one to explain.
- talking to myself in the car and gesticulating wildly, enough to draw the attention of several people stopped along with me at the red light. On more than one day.
- moving from the depths of despair and then to giddy happiness. All.day.long.
This IVF has got to start soon. Of course, in the true fashion of all things I still have one more test that must be repeated - a sonohystogram (spelling anyone? I don't know about this. Something doesn't look right, but you know what I mean). Which as many of you know, can only be done on certain days of a cycle, and they only had one appointment available in the middle of the day this time. I couldn't get away from work for several reasons. I know you're thinking "Priorities!" but I don't want to compromise work for this even more than I'm going to in a few weeks. So it's out and we wait one more cycle. And mine are unpredictable. Dammit.
I haven't shaved my head and flashed my junk at the paparazzi (seriously, why? why? would this seem like a good idea for any reason?), but for a working girl who can't have no babies living in the 'burbs, I've done things that could be equivalents.
Such as:
- losing it (not the crying kind, the getting frustrated kind) in a meeting at work over nothing - really.
- subsequently getting chewed out in front of everyone at said meeting
- I don't think it was as bad as I thought, several people slapped me on the back and said "You've got a set!" Or maybe for this reason it was as bad as I thought? Who knows and who cares. Oh, me.
- considered walking out while humming "Take This Job and Shove It"; but realized I love too many things about my job to leave. Oh, and I need the money.
- trying to explain to D why I don't want to have sex with him anymore and actually using the phrase "It's not you, it's me." I used to have quite the desire for sexy time, so this is a tough one to explain.
- talking to myself in the car and gesticulating wildly, enough to draw the attention of several people stopped along with me at the red light. On more than one day.
- moving from the depths of despair and then to giddy happiness. All.day.long.
This IVF has got to start soon. Of course, in the true fashion of all things I still have one more test that must be repeated - a sonohystogram (spelling anyone? I don't know about this. Something doesn't look right, but you know what I mean). Which as many of you know, can only be done on certain days of a cycle, and they only had one appointment available in the middle of the day this time. I couldn't get away from work for several reasons. I know you're thinking "Priorities!" but I don't want to compromise work for this even more than I'm going to in a few weeks. So it's out and we wait one more cycle. And mine are unpredictable. Dammit.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
how organized are you?
After realizing that I've never, ever kept track of the many doctor's appointments, blood draws, results, cycle monitoring, test dates and their results, questions for the doctor, etc., I came to the conclusion that it might be wise to start. You know, for FUTURE REFERENCE WHEN I MEET WITH MY NEW RE SO I WON'T LOOK LIKE A TOTAL DUMBASS AT OUR VERY IMPORTANT IVF CONSULT APPOINTMENT; BECAUSE HE MIGHT MAKE US A BABY AND THAT IS KIND OF A BIG DEAL.
I am so not a type A. And this whole process is very type A. It doesn't suit me in the least. Like planning our wedding. I just didn't care about any of the details. I literally spent about 10 minutes choosing the food selections. It all tasted good and it was a very reputable catering company, so I figured just go with it. I let the venue where our reception was held choose the linens, glassware, and centerpieces. They kept asking "Now Tipsymarie, are you sure it's ok for us to make such important decisions regarding your WEDDING DAY?" I was expecting one of them to explode, but it never happened. Oh man. So high strung and so serious.about.weddings. I tried on a total of 8 dresses over a couple of trips to various small stores and decided on one almost immediately. I ordered my veil and bridesmaid dresses sight unseen from the interweb, and I am not kidding when I tell you I ordered my invitations from Party City. I know, some of you just recoiled in horror. It's ok because those damn things just went in the trash as soon as they were opened. I'm pretty sure the only person who will frame it is me. It currently sits in our living room. The only thing I really tried to plan was the music selection, because I didn't want to hear any annoying Top 40 shit. I wanted people to dance and have fun, so I did make sure we had a plan in place for an open bar that had everyone's favorites.
It was only natural and expected I take a laissez faire approach to things others find to need more planning. I bought my prom dress the night before and decided on an engagement ring design I liked in one afternoon. In perhaps the most the most shocking display of Type B ineptitude, I lost the secret notebook girls keep between each other. The one we spent hours decorating with stickers and puff paint and glitter. Oh, I had several friends stop speaking to me because of that loss. BFF, not so much.
When I was in school, I was not the girl with the pink and green kittened out Trapper Keeper divided neatly among the five subjects. Notes and school work were always stuffed into a desk or locker or under the bed or in the car. My teachers were always beyond frustrated with my lack of organization, or more likely, my lack of motivation to become organized.
On Friday, I spent some time making some really pretty, graphically pleasing calendars in Publisher for our Big Giant IVF Binder. If it wouldn't be so weird, I would send a copy to my new RE so he knows I am taking this more seriously that I have anything else in my life. Nothing says serious like a Big Giant Binder Stuffed with Calendars and Test Results.
I can't wait to make the labels and dividers.
I am so not a type A. And this whole process is very type A. It doesn't suit me in the least. Like planning our wedding. I just didn't care about any of the details. I literally spent about 10 minutes choosing the food selections. It all tasted good and it was a very reputable catering company, so I figured just go with it. I let the venue where our reception was held choose the linens, glassware, and centerpieces. They kept asking "Now Tipsymarie, are you sure it's ok for us to make such important decisions regarding your WEDDING DAY?" I was expecting one of them to explode, but it never happened. Oh man. So high strung and so serious.about.weddings. I tried on a total of 8 dresses over a couple of trips to various small stores and decided on one almost immediately. I ordered my veil and bridesmaid dresses sight unseen from the interweb, and I am not kidding when I tell you I ordered my invitations from Party City. I know, some of you just recoiled in horror. It's ok because those damn things just went in the trash as soon as they were opened. I'm pretty sure the only person who will frame it is me. It currently sits in our living room. The only thing I really tried to plan was the music selection, because I didn't want to hear any annoying Top 40 shit. I wanted people to dance and have fun, so I did make sure we had a plan in place for an open bar that had everyone's favorites.
It was only natural and expected I take a laissez faire approach to things others find to need more planning. I bought my prom dress the night before and decided on an engagement ring design I liked in one afternoon. In perhaps the most the most shocking display of Type B ineptitude, I lost the secret notebook girls keep between each other. The one we spent hours decorating with stickers and puff paint and glitter. Oh, I had several friends stop speaking to me because of that loss. BFF, not so much.
When I was in school, I was not the girl with the pink and green kittened out Trapper Keeper divided neatly among the five subjects. Notes and school work were always stuffed into a desk or locker or under the bed or in the car. My teachers were always beyond frustrated with my lack of organization, or more likely, my lack of motivation to become organized.
On Friday, I spent some time making some really pretty, graphically pleasing calendars in Publisher for our Big Giant IVF Binder. If it wouldn't be so weird, I would send a copy to my new RE so he knows I am taking this more seriously that I have anything else in my life. Nothing says serious like a Big Giant Binder Stuffed with Calendars and Test Results.
I can't wait to make the labels and dividers.
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