Funny!

Nothing original from me today, but Womb for Improvement wrote THIS today. If you need a good laugh at the expense of your uterus, click on over!

I lived to tell about it...

My husband and I moved to a small town almost a year ago. And although I am quick to tell people how much I love living in our little town because it is so quiet, I hadn't really thought through all of the implications small town living has on one's life.

My husband and I pretty much keep to ourselves. We know a few people living in our area, but for the most part, most of our socializing takes place outside of our community. We can almost always go grocery shopping without seeing a single person that we know, and to be honest, I like it that way. I don't want to be snaking through the grocery store while I'm trying to by a pregnancy test (ha, like I need one) or ovulation kits. I guess what I am trying to get at here is, we are becoming or may in the future become "small town folk." Lord help us.

The reason for this revelation is, none other than my much toiled over doctor's appointment on Monday. As I said in my previous post it was a simple establishing appointment with my new PCP (primary care physician.) I am a HUGE worry wart, and absolutely HATE going to the doctor so I was stressed to the max when I arrived at the office. After all, going to the doctor rates super high on my top ten list of things I hate doing. However, people watching is just as high on my list of things I LOVE doing, so soon after I walked through the door of the doctor's office my luck changed....

First of all, can we all agree that as a generalization (which is totally unfair,I get that- don't leave me any mean comments!) "small town folk" as whole are not necessarily super fashion savvy? Good, moving on. Picture this...

A women, probably in her mid fifties wearing black leggings that were about three sizes too small (you know, nice and see through) with a...... wait for it... CROP TOP. Awesome. Don't worry the fun doesn't stop there. Shortly after I get all checked in and take my seat in a waiting room smaller than my master bathroom, her father (my dad would kill me if I wore that outfit no matter how old and senile he was) decides that he needs to use the restroom. Being the kind daughter that she was, she accompanied him. Ready for the best part of this story? When she got up to follow daddy dearest to the toilet I looked up only to notice that not only was she wearing the leggings described above, but she was sporting hot pink underoos with them. But wait it gets better, they had some sparkly word plastered across the butt. Unfortunately, I had to avert my eyes at that point, in fear I may forever be blind after what I had just witnessed so I am unable to report what her rear-end billboard was advertising. My best guess is something along the lines of FLIRT, PLAYER, or BOOTYLICIOUS.

So not only was this woman winning outfit of the year, but she also knew EVERY person that stepped foot into the office while I was in the waiting room. Everyone knew way too much about each other for my comfort level. I like having a private life and not having the whole world know my business. Ironic, right? Are you thinking...."this chick is nuts, she talks about her freaking vagina on a public blog"? Ok, good I was thinking the same thing, at least we are on the same page :)

On a more serious note, I did make it through the appointment. I ended up seeing the physician's assistant in the practice who was a young female and super nice. She agreed that it was probably time to move onto seeing an RE, but wanted to run some blood work and a urine analysis first. She is rechecking my thyroid and seeing if there is are any insulin resistance issues to rule out both hypothyroidism and PCOS. As well as just doing a few baseline tests because I am new to the practice. If there are any red flags that come back with the blood work, she will treat me for them and we can see if it changes my fertility at all. If everything comes back normal she will send me on to the RE right away. I felt good about the appointment and am feeling more and more ready to really take the steps that I think are ahead of me!!

Monday...

As I've stated on my blog before, I am a huge wuss when it comes to going to the doctor... especially a new doctor. So much in fact, I've been putting it off for the last 7 months. I decided I needed a break after 6 grueling months of Clomid back in December, and then life happened, things got busy and I started to feel comfortable with the idea of not trying too hard knowing that if I wasn't being treated, I probably wasn't ovulating which made the 'you're still not pregnant' blow a little easier to bare.

Thankfully my husband has been a champ about it all. Although he would've loved for me to move on to the next treatment right after clomid way back in December, he let me be the judge of when I was ready to jump back into the ring and fight this battle. I've been ready for several weeks now, but I've been having a hard time making the call and setting an appointment. Then we celebrated about 4th anniversary.

On Thursday we celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary and as we sat on the deck eating our dinner we talked about everything that was going right in our lives, and inevitably we also talked about the one things that still seems to be missing. As we talked, I realized that the time was NOW. I had agreed not to buy him a gift other than the expensive dinner we had planned for the following evening, and he told me that all he wanted from me was a card. So, a card was what he got... with a little extra surprise... I made an appointment for myself for Monday. It is only the first tiny step in a journey that I am sure will have MANY more steps, but I feel good about it. I'm finally ready.

I am ready to move on with treatment, I'm ready to relay the status of my CM to a nurse and more than anything I am ready to be pregnant. But, I am not looking forward to rehashing the last two years to a man my father's age. I chose this doctor for two reasons... the first being that I called the office of my first choice and I couldn't get into see her as a new patient until June of 2011 keep in mind that she is a PCP, it isn't like I am trying to get into see some amazing RE or something. And second, I chose him because he resembles the doctor my family saw when I was a little kid, and for some reason it just seemed right. We'll see about that!

So, think of me on Monday... I know it is just a TINY step in the scheme of things, but it feels like a giant leap for a girl who HATES going to the doctor!! However, it is probably something I should get used to, aye?

Again with the idiotic comments...

Remember this post? Well here are a few more that you might like all from that same person over the past couple of months.....(click the link for a little back story)

SHE SAID: "Just think about all of the stress you are avoiding by not having kids"
I SAID: "I'd take that stress ANYDAY"
WHAT I SHOULD HAVE SAID: Do you have an ounce of compassion in your entire body? Really? You know our situation, you are well aware of how painful it has been for both of us, why in the world would you say something so hurtful? While we are on the topic if your child induced "stress", lets talk about mine. I wake up at 5am EVERY MORNING put a thermometer in my mouth, pee on sticks more days of the month than I care to count, coax my husband to have sex with me after checking the status of the mucus that is come from my who-ha, you are right I am living quite the stress free life. Oh, and by the way we are not avoiding it- we are seeking it whole heartedly.

SHE SAID: "Well if it doesn't work out, maybe you are just meant to be a really great aunt."
I SAID: "It WILL happen"
WHAT I SHOULD HAVE SAID: Write down what you just said to me. Got it? Good, now NEVER say that to me EVER again.

SHE SAID: "Kids are no fun"
I SAID: Nothing, I was too busy feeling like she had just kicked me in the shin.
WHAT I SHOULD HAVE SAID: If you had babies because you thought they were going to be "fun" you should have bought a doll. And again, here is a piece of paper... write that down.

At what point do you call people out on the incredibly rude things they say, especially if they know your situation? We are going camping with this family at the end of the month, and I am already dreading it a little bit. I feel like at some point I am just going to have to bite the bullet and tell her how offensive her comments are, but I don't feel like I should have to. Are all fertile people idiots?

Thankful...

Today was a good day.

I had a chance to catch up with a friend from college and as we were chatting, it became pretty apparent that we both were skirting the same issue. Infertility. Although I wouldn't wish it on anyone, it sure is comforting to know that I have someone in real life that gets it. It felt great to sit for three hours and hash out everything that is hard about it with someone who both understood and wasn't awkward when it came to sharing intimate details on the ins and outs of this mess.

With my track record, she will probably be pregnant by next week. I'm OK with that, because for today I felt like I was part of a secret sorority of sorts... The Empty Womb Society.

A duffel bag full of rocks...

I lost it last night. Plain and simple....

Ever since my husband and I moved into our house my least favorite thing about it was the family that lived across the street. Their kids are SUPER noisy, whine all the time and they are just an odd group. So, last night when we arrived home from a little weekend away I glanced across the street and told the hubs that I was pretty sure they were moving out. Three cheers for quiet summer mornings!

Fast forward about two hours. We had been watching all of our DVR'd shows from the weekend when I asked my husband to pause it so I could use the bathroom. I said something to the effect of "give me five minutes." Well, five turned into ten as I was opening the windows on the front of out house for the evening breeze. When I returned to the living room with the huge smile on my face and said something to the effect of "I think it is REALLY happening!!!" his poor heart began to flutter. He said "what is happening?!?" and without a thought I said, "they are moving!!!"... his heart sank.

I didn't realize any of this until we were climbing into bed last night and he told me. It hurt. For some reason, I feel OK about the duffel bag of hurt I lug around behind me day in a day out, but it kills me to see the pain in his eyes. I know that our journey has been difficult for him, just like it has for me, but I often forget to step back and see that his pain is just as real as mine. Just as warranted and just as wearing.

I cried. I sobbed. I let all of the frustrations of the last few months come streaming down my face. We talked. We cried. We prayed. We held each other until we fell asleep.

Although I don't enjoy spending my nights sobbing and my mornings recovering, it was a good reminder, one that I needed......

I don't have to drag the duffel bag of pain and heartache alone. I've got a partner, and he is SO much stronger than me. If we each take a side and do this together we can make it. We WILL make it.

Today I am so thankful for a husband who wants the best for me, cares for me more than I could have ever wished he would, and mostly thankful for partner on this journey.

Cruel...

Infertility is cruel. I feel like I can't take anything for face value anymore. I know that once I finally get pregnant *fingers crossed* I will not truly believe it until the moment I hold my baby. I've lost ALL trust in my body.

So, on to the point of this rambling post...
I've got crazy cycles when I am not medicated. Crazy like 90 days long, bleeding that lasts for days or weeks and enough positive OPKs to build one of those toothpick bridges that you make in your high school science class.... make mine the Golden Gate. Seriously, my chart looks like a freaking mountain range with peaks and valleys all over the place. Today, just a few days after a period that lasted just shy of two weeks (shoot me now) I took an OPK and it was blatantly positive. Like so positive the first line was WAY darker than the second and about twice as thick. Seriously? I would love to believe that on cycle day 18 ovulation is just around the corner and that I might- just might have a normal cycle, but with my reproductive system's track record, I am not counting on it. Make no mistake, I've already alerted the husband that he must, I repeat MUST come home at a decent hour from his poker game tonight just in case the science experiment in our bathroom really is for real.

Geesh, the things we do.....