Doing This

So it appears we are actually doing this IVF thing. Mad Scientist called us back last night AT 10:30. He schedules call-backs on Friday evenings after he’s finished seeing patients. Roughly between the hours of 9 and midnight. No joke. 

Anyway, he answered all of my questions. No PIO (hallelujah!), no minimum AFC to start the cycle, he def recommends transferring *at least* two embryos (he said he would be fine with 3 if that’s what we wanted, but he back tracked when he heard me gasp/moan at the thought). I’m trying to psych myself up for the whole experience and not allow myself to cash in the one way ticket to Anxiety Land. I am going to start keeping a daily diary of my experience, calling it NHL to IVF. 

Meanwhile, I need to bitch about a “friend”. I think I’ve written about this person before. Let’s call her Regina (think mean girls). I have known her/been friends with her since I was 10. She is extremely self-centered and this worked for me as a teenager because I wanted out of my house, so I always fled to hers. But as an adult, it is totally irritating and off-putting. Go figure. Long story short, she has a 4 year old daughter and thought she would have trouble conceiving her 2nd child. She even took a round of clomid! Whew. Then, she got pg on her own a few months later (non-medicated). Delivered said baby in January and he has been a high maintenance kid. Some health complications, colicky, and her own PPD have made things tough for her.

Enter me. I try to be helpful, supportive, a good friend, even though it kills me that she is having a hard time with something I would give a pinky toe for. For the third time in the past month, I offered to go out for pedis after a meeting I had yesterday near her house. And for the third time, she declined because she has to do something fun with her nanny and kids since it is *almost* her nanny’s last day on the job.

SERIOUSLY? You have a nanny, whose job it is to watch your kids (even though you are on full maternity leave you still have a full time nanny, let’s just leave that to the side), and you can’t take an hour out of your day to come get a pedicure with me? Then you don’t really have problems, girlfriend. If you needed to have some time away from your VERY tough life, you would take it when it’s offered. Oh, and do you think she has bothered to call me ONCE in the past 6 months to ask me how I’m doing? What are our plans? What’s happening with IVF? You’d be right if you thought not.

This has nothing to do with IF, it’s just me venting about a person who is an asshole and I should just stop putting myself out there for her. Z is used to it by now, but he doesn’t understand why I’m surprised that she continues the same patterns of behavior year after year after year. Our families are friends and we have other mutual friends – otherwise, I would drop that shit so fast, she would NEVA see me again. Since I can’t, I’ll just let it all out here, to you fine folks.

Thanks for listening.  

10 More

Here are 10 more special ideas for how I can spend our money (the last post was MY money) once we stop TTC.

10. Pool membership

9. A new iPad? Or should we go mini?

8. New sundresses for the season

7. Porch swing

6. New sunglasses (I’ve had the same pair since… 2004?)

5. A HOUSEKEEPER!

4. Gas fireplace insert (to be used NEXT Winter)

3. Sunroof installed in our car (are you sensing the Spring theme?)

2. People magazine subscription

And the number 1 thing I can spend our money on…

1. New, non-progesteroned underwear (it’s a win win)

 

BTW, I poas yesterday, obv bfn. (I win for most IF abbrev. I can use in a v short sentence!) I was very sad. Now, less so. I’m thinking about this coming month as the IVF prep month and just hope hope hoping I have my highest afc ever next CD1 so we can down it and count it.

A List

 

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Yep, this’ll do.

 

In honor of Stephen Colbert taking over the Late Night w David Letterman show, I present to you my first top 10 list.  In no particular order, here are the top 10 things I could spend my money on if we stopped TTC.

(drumroll please)

10. Highlights for my hair

9. Couples therapy

8. A new puppy!

7. Piano lessons and art classes for Jasper

6. Hair product, new flatiron, brushes, headbands, cute etsy barrettes

5. A new sink/vanity in our tiny bathroom

4. The backsplash for our renovated kitchen that never got completed

3. A real vacation (non-pregnant couples ONLY), like even to a place like Sandals or Secrets because even though we don’t drink, there are less likely to be pregnant people at an all inclusive. Right?

2. A new house? Or at least take out a Home Equity Loan to turn our garage into a den.

and the #1 thing I could spend my money on if we stopped TTC

1. DATE NIGHTS!!

 

Sponsored by: my hairdresser and Petfinder.com

 

Monday Confessional

I am in the worst mood today. I’ve been having cramps for at least the past week. I am DEFINITELY NOT pg (ahem, so please don’t say I am in any comments, TYIA!), but I am angry. I’m tired. I’m tired of. I am still mad at Z for our fight yesterday (I even photographed the kitchen counter and texted it to him with a lovely thank you for clearing off “the junk” since you’re so perfect). I can’t even. 

I just got back from groceries and errands (been out for the past 4 hours). I pretended I didn’t recognize someone who was honking at me. The thought crossed my mind to walk off with one of these gorgeous babies in Target. I mean, really? I’m sure the FBI could trace these confessions to my house and for that reason I must follow my confessional with I WOULDN’T REALLY DO THAT. But I did think it.

Does anyone else want to constantly escape? I want to fly to the Bahamas and lay on a beach all day long. I’ll take Jasper, cause he’s really the only person right now who soothes my soul. I’d love to watch him play on the beach beside me and listen to the waves and his little voice making up pretend pirate scenarios. But he’s the only one invited. 

This week sucks already. I am working the next two days (and being observed, too, I might add!), then spending all day Thursday cooking for a family dinner I’m hosting next Tuesday (I have to freeze everything and defrost it on Monday). Friday, we are going to visit my in-laws for the weekend, a 5 hour drive. My brother in law and his wife and 2 kids will be there too! YAY! I am so excited to watch someone else parent poorly. And I’m sure I’ll be told I’m not helping enough, or the right way, or I’m too ________. And probably also way too ______. Take your pick. Don’t you want to come?

Now that I’ve spent all this money this past weekend on an overpriced massage (it’s probably triple what I usually pay) and meals that could’ve sent my child to day camp, I can’t afford to do anything nice for myself this week. And if I lounge and read a book and relax instead, apparently I’m supposed to be sorting through the junk in our house, so that’s unacceptable. 

GRRRRR. 

PS. I bought pringles today. First time in 20 years. Fuck it to hell. I’m already overweight, I’ve had cancer, and I can’t make a baby. Might as well enjoy the ride.

Assholes and Rudeness

And by assholes, I’m including my dear darling husband. Right now, he is the biggest jerkface I can bring to mind. I just went away for a girls’ overnight (can’t call it a weekend, it was barely 24 hours). 5 of my camp friends and I met halfway (sort of) between 2 large, well known cities on the east coast at a hotel/spa. We got way overpriced massages, ate way overpriced food (3 meals!), indulged in junk food we brought to remind us of being 14, talked, talked, talked, and slept. It was lovely, though 2 of the girls brought their babies to brunch this morning (both babies are the youngest of 3 and 4 kids), so that part was a little tough afterwards. By “a little tough” I mean there were tears shed on the drive home.

Let’s also keep in mind I am 1 week through my current 2ww (OMG I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR FUCKING EVER), progesterone and estrogen in full effect. This means I’m both insatiably hungry and a tad on the sensitive, emotional side. 

I would guess it’s difficult for Z to remember that, being as how that’s pretty much me 1/2 of the month. Or more. So really, it’s just me. 

Anyway. I left him at home with Jasper for the past 24 hours and come home just to get into a huge fight. Apparently, parenting is much easier when you don’t have to co-parent and confer with the other person before making decisions. Wow. Go figure. And he tells me tonight, how he realized he’s been letting me take the wheel in so many parenting situations, but now he’s going to speak up more. Because he thinks it’s important for him to voice his own (parenting?) ideas yadda yadda. 

I’m all, “HUH? So you’ve missed me so much you couldn’t wait to tell me how much easier things were without me? FOR 24 HOURS?”  

It blew up at dinner where we had a difference of opinion of how to get Jasper to eat more saag paneer (we got Indian takeout, obv). And then it just became this argument about every stupid material object in our house and how I never put things away or go through piles of kid stuff that need to be sorted and I never do the things he asks me to do and there are so few of them, meanwhile I ask him to do a thousand things and he does them all. I swear, by his own standards, he is Mr. Fucking Perfect.

Even better, get this, is when I dare to mention that a big reason I’m not a fan of sorting through Jasper’s old toys/books/clothes/baby gear is because #1. It’s sad. and #2. Of course I have been trying for 5 FUCKING YEARS to have another baby who might need to use all the shit we’ve already spent money on. Should I just chuck it and pretend we’re millionaires and can buy it all over again? Or should I face the fact that we are NOT going to have another baby and chuck it all anyway? I’m at the point right now where it might make my life a helluva lot easier to just chuck it all. It’s just stuff, right?

So hard, though. It’s like chucking hopes and dreams and memories and a whole Before Cancer life. Like I’m throwing away who I thought I would be, or what our family would be. Like there’s a dead person in the house and I’m throwing away all of his stuff. It’s excruciating to walk through the basement to do laundry and have all of the crap staring at me. Toys, high chairs, it’s like an abyss of despair.

The worst part about me being so pissed and hurt and fighting with “Mr. Perfect” is that it ruined whatever shred of relaxed state I had achieved at the million dollar spa. 

Apologies for the cussing. But there’s a whole lot more where that came from.

Honoring the Loss

Saturday night Jasper had a sleepover. As in, he had a friend sleep over our house. I am still having some anxiety over the thought of him sleeping out and me having a quiet house. It makes me worry about horrible things. I “what if” all over the place.

Anyway, back to the sleepover. When the mom came to drop off his friend, S, she brought the little sister (the youngest of the 3 kids, who had apparently demanded to come for the ride to see ME). The sister, Z, is the same age as our baby would be if I hadn’t miscarried almost 3 years ago. In fact, that baby would potentially be 2 today, if born like Jasper, on his/her due date. And when the mom went to leave, Z began to cry. I got a text a few hours later that she cried all the way home. I couldn’t help but say to my hubs that I wished we had a kid for her to play with, too. I wished she could’ve stayed. I wish I wish I wish. I served myself an extra helping of guilt because now I have not only failed myself, my husband, my child, my parents, my in-laws, my nieces (there are 4 of them) and a nephew. But I’ve failed my friend’s daughter as well.

Yeah, that’s normal.

Then, I realized that perhaps this month was adding some extra tension to my shoulders. I usually push off that miscarriage because my body was still majorly recovering from chemo and radiation and I was not mentally prepared to carry a pregnancy. I was certain I was going to die before the end of my pregnancy. But things seem so much easier in hindsight, and I’ve had thoughts that border on, “Couldn’t I just have toughened up and gotten through the next 34 weeks? If only…” I don’t blame myself as much as I probably could, but I’m just sad that it happened. And it’s hard not to have fantasies of what our family would look like now. If only…

TWW *IN REVERSE*

Image

I decided this week that I am in LOVE with the first 2 weeks of my cycle. I have honestly felt on vacation. I’m not waiting, I’m having SEX whenever WE (I) want, I’m eating whatever the freak I want, I seldom have blood draws, it’s the bomb. I am, however, dreading next week. I HATE THIS.

And I am slightly afraid to say it, but if we do go ahead with our ivf plans and it doesn’t work, I think I might be done. I’m sure I’ve said that before and we’ll see what happens when we get there, but I realized that I have lots of things good right now. I have a son. I have a husband. I have a home. I have a job. I want to be able to enjoy these things. And that’s been the biggest F U about secondary infertility. You can’t ‘just relax’, you can’t enjoy what you’ve got because you always thought there would be more. I always thought there would be more kids. But the one I’ve got is effing awesome. He knocks my socks every single day. And I want to enjoy that, and not get panicked at the thought of him being it. 

Maybe we will come to adoption, but I cannot say anything with certainty at this point. I need to coin an abbreviation for the first half of the cycle vacation: FHV? F2W? GIH (Groove is in the heart)? 

Since time’s up tomorrow and I have to go back to the RE for bloods/ultrasound, I guess my ballgown will turn back into rags in the morning. I better enjoy it while I can.

 

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