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This weekend was sucktackular!

No blood yet, plenty of PMS signs. Saturday and Sunday were spent balling my eyes out. Not sure how I became so emotional, but every little thing made me cry. Just when I thought I’d gotten myself together, I’d start again. The most puzzling episode was when I cried after breaking a mug. It was an accident, and also was my favorite pottery mug, but not crying worthy. I was so sick of myself and my home that I ended up leaving Sunday to hang out with a friend. That made all the difference in the World. Four hours passed with out any crying and when I got home A. and I were able to talk about how the weekend had gone horribly wrong. And, I’ve stopped crying. Which is a really good thing, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to make it to work today if it continued. For now we wait. Usually A. takes me out for dinner when the blood shows, but this time I’ve asked her to take me out for martinis at my favorite martini bar. I may even have two, one as my main course and the next as my dessert!


Yesterday I felt crampy, period crampy. Usually in the days before my period, I get dull cramps in the wee hours of the morning. Today, the same cramps palgued me around five am. So much so that I could have taken ibuprofen, if only I weren’t so lazy and didn’t want to get out of bed.

Instead, I lay there, knowing I am not pregnant. Sad. Tired. Really so tired, not because it was 5am (I went to bed at 9:30), tired of this. Tired of all the emotional work. The start of my cycles, the drugs, temping, the ultra sounds, the opks, the monitor, the phone calls to the midwives, the iuis. Tired of thinking it could work, tired of spending two weeks waiting for the news I so desperately want, tired of never getting that news. Tired of crying.

I am so tired of having so many people involved in this process. They are all great, but I am not sure I have articulated the added stress. I hate to inconvenience people, and that’s what I do every month. I need to be fitted in, when I need it. Not because I am a bitch, but because ovulation has its own schedule. I am sick of fighting with the receptionists at the MWs office, me insisting I need to speak to a MW today. I am tired of buying sperm. $7,000 and counting. SEVEN THOUSAND! And that does not include, all the sticks: monitor, opk, and pregnancy tests. Nor the monthly storage fees. And you know what, seven thousand dollars is nothing compared to what we’ve paid emotionally. I bet we’re into the millions now.

I know it isn’t over till I bleed, but I am not a fool, I know my body. I know all too well which days leading up to bleeding I: break out, start cramping, and have sore breasts. How couldn’t I, I’ve been charting for eons. And then there’s that holiday tomorrow. A holiday I’ve never really cared about. Always recognized my mother, but kind of thought it was a weird holiday, so why am I so sad that it’s passing? Yet another holiday that makes me sad. Just like the previous two Christmases. It’s the passing of time, these holidays are like anniversaries that remind me I am still not pregnant. And I had really hoped for the ultimate mother’s day gift this year.

I may need a break. I don’t want to take a break. Breaks are part of why this is taking so effing long. I will try again next cycle since it’s the third cycle post HSG and thus my last extra fertile cycle, not that that’s made any difference so far. Then I may need to take the summer off.

Yesterday, at 7dpo, I had possible-maybe blood appear in the toilet. I had cramping. And a zit broke through.

The angel on my shoulder says, the blood and cramping are sure signs of implantation. The devil on the other shoulder, mocks me, are you nuts, you’re not pregnant. No way. And this here zit arrived on cue to let you know that your not.

So we wait. Test day is Tuesday. I do feel a lot more bloated this cycle than I’ve been before. But I know not to read into anything, because my mind can convince me anything is a sign of pregnancy while in the tww.


Well it was so much more low-key than I thought it would be. I pictured the lady opening closets and looking under sinks. She walked through the first floor, counting smoke and carbon monoxide detectors. There was more of the same when we went up stairs, except she was also measuring the bedrooms. Her measuring device was soooooo cool. She’d hold it to one wall and a laser beam would show on the opposite wall, and the measurement showed up on the device! I need one of those. With our current configuration we could have seven children, if we moved our bedroom to where it used to be, we could have eight. One or two is just fine with me; I don’t fancy packing them in like sardines.

After touring our home she quickly reviewed her checklist and gave us some ideas for further safety measures. In the end we passed with flying colors. But we can’t start the MAPP classes until what feels like forever- late summer or early fall. Our schedules just don’t mesh with the times they are having the next two sessions (A.’s school and me being away for July). Lucky we’re professionals when it comes to waiting.

I am excited, and a little nervous. Starting this process, and having the visit today made me feel like no matter what, if we want kids, we will have them, even if we don’t carry them. There are kids out there, and we are making our way to them. It’s exciting and overwhelming all at the same time. After trying for so long, there is a part of me that has begun to think about life with out children. Part of me sunk into that idea and with that came more doubt about ever getting pregnant. When you (I) can’t get pg and have no control, you (I) lose hope. Starting the adoption process gives me hope, for the first time in a long time. As long as A or I don’t do anything crazy to get some criminal record, then we will have a child. We will. Do you know that this is the first thing I’ve felt like I have any control over since we started ttc? It is. I’ve felt out of control since September 2005. That’s a long freakin’ time, no wonder I began to lose hope. Now I’ve got a shred of hope back, and of course I still think I’m currently getting knocked up. For 5dpo, I am doing great!


A and I are comfortably making our way through the tww. As I tried to sleep the other night I calculated how much time we’ve spent in the tww – this is our 8th try so that’s 16 weeks, or 4 months. Depressing. but we’ve been so caught up in being excited, knowing this is the one, blah, blah blah, that we nearly forgot we have a home inspection tomorrow. Ya know, for that little adoption project we’re working on.

We planned on cleaning today, and also addressing all the the safety regulations the woman will be looking for (cleaning products and medication out of reach, etc.). And completely unrelated we’ve been talking about moving our bedroom into another room. We decided we’d get to all of it today. First we swapped our bedroom and the guest bedroom, and had to redistribute some furniture through all the rooms. Then we decided to take our make shift third bedroom that housed a futon and all of our crap and turn it into a real bedroom and put all the crap in a storage closet (as we did this I felt like when we moved in last summer we just got sick of unpacking and threw the crap into a room and shut the door…). So now our bedroom is in the biggest room and we have two guest rooms (anyone want to come visit?). The second guest room looks like it’s ready for a kid. Hmmm. I hope the home inspector will pick up on this.

I found all our electric outlet covers (from when our nephew would visit) and put them in all the unused outlets. We are going to head out to get some other safety measures today – and some baskets to organize all the crap under our bathroom sinks – I’d die if the lady opened them and saw how we just throw everything in – out of sight out of mind. Once we were done with all the rearranging we started to clean. As A tried to take an outlet cover off to plug in the vacuum she said, “hun, these are really hard to get off.” I replied, “yeah, that’s kind of the point.”

Holy shit…there are so many of us just entering the tww. At last count here are all the cycle sisters:

Vee & Jay

Erin & Sara

Melody & Vanessa

Any one else? Maybe our combined fertility and the spring time will work some magic. Good luck, friends!

p.s. part of my dream has come true…said good friend called last night to say he was on his way to visit for the weekend! We’re going to Pride together today!

There is nothing like taking your temp the morning after an iui and seeing a spike. Nothing. Absolutely nothing! (Let’s not talk about the monitor peaking this morning, I hate that thing, ever since clomid, opks are way more reliable!) My work is done for this cycle, now I have to leave it into the hands of a higher power. So glad to sit back and relax, the days leading up to ovulation are so stressful.

As we gear up for try number 8 (charting cycle number 21) we find ourselves in the hopeful moments. Last night A. said to me, It’s going to work this time. And so started the conversation, yes it could work, but… This led us to talk about the  cycle days that we like (we know how to have fun on a Friday night!). We agreed insemination day(s) are our favorite days when excitement and hope surrounds us. Two dpo is also a fun day, but by 4 dpo we are usually losing hope and find our selves strung out trying to make the tww pass. A. also likes cd 4-6, where there’s no work (I think she forgot about Clomid). She said it’s nice at the start when I don’t temp and don’t poas ten times a day (okay, more like one to four times in a day, depending on how close I am to ovulation). I get what she meant, so I’d say I like all of cd 4 and most of cd 5, but as soon as the drugs go into me on cd 5 night, I long for cd 11 when they are flushed from my system and I return to a normal sane human being. It’s a miracle that we are as happy as we are given we generally enjoy about five days of my cycle every month…

I think I would have a heart attack.

I am hanging in at 11dpo. I have little hope, but my temp spike this morning ensured this roller coaster ride will last right up to the end of my luteal phase (tomorrow). If I make it past that, I will test on Monday.

We started ttc nearly two and a half years ago. You’d think that by now I’d be used to the idea that it could work, and if it did we’d have a baby. A real live baby. A child we’d be responsible for taking care of forever. This is what I want, but sometime the reality frightens the hell out of me! I have a mini freak out during each iui when I realize it could work. And now as I reach the end of my LP, with a temp spike, I get the same chest-tightening nervous feeling.

Most of my anxiety comes from knowing how much our lives will change. A. and I have grown comfortable with relaxing in our free time…some might say we’ve turned it into a sport. We’re also impulsive and will pick up at a moments notice for a variety of adventures – near and far. Our relationship would change. I’m sure it would be a great – wonderful – amazing change, but we’d be three (or four) and that is so much more than two. For six years we’ve been two and it blows my mind to add a baby in.

So while each month I test, and pray to see two pink lines, there is still a part of me that can’t imagine the shock I will feel if I ever see two pink lines.

At 9dpo I usually start to have cramps. Today I am 9dpo, and woke to horrible cramps. If history is repeating, I am not pregnant.

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