Real Talk

I am amazed at how little say I actually have in this whole process.

First, I don’t get to pick when I wake up for appointments.  I can set an alarm for 4:55AM (because 4:50AM is too early) – but my husband will still wake me up when he wants… which is usually 4:52AM.  3 minutes really makes no difference… except that I’m irritated that I can’t even get up when I want to.  (NOTE:  Cody doesn’t do it to annoy me.  He does it out of kindness.  He thinks I’d rather wake up to a kiss and a snuggle rather than an alarm clock.  And I would.  At 4:55AM.)

I also, apparently, do not get to decide when I can take a break from this fertility madness.  I know what you’re thinking:  If you want a break, just take a break.  But I’ve put so much time, effort, emotion, faith, and money into this that I want to discuss this option with the doctor first.  I don’t want my body to rebound from hormones only to have to do this all over again in a couple of months.  I want the doctor to tell me what would be best to be able to save my mind but also not cause me to have to go back to square 1 all over again.  I didn’t get the chance to talk to the doctor about this today.  I didn’t get to see Dr. C, it was Dr. R this morning.  There’s always a mad rush in the morning, so we quickly discussed what the plan for this cycle would be and then I was out the door.  Well, not out the door, but booking a test.

I don’t understand.  I receive all the tests.  I take all of the medications.  I time this, and check that, and research that thing.  But I somehow still feel like I have no control over any of it.  How is this possible?

I admit, I am a bit of a control freak.  I have what I have in life because I knew what I wanted and did what I needed to do to attain it.  Getting pregnant, though, is the one thing I have absolutely no control over.  This is something that I’ve slowly come to realize… and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

(Just as a side note here, I’m trying really hard to keep a flow to this post, but I feel like everything is getting scrambled.  If it is, I apologize.).

I’m also not in control of any of my emotions.  There’s some really high highs and some fucken deep lows.  Just when I think I get past the negative pregnancy test with a relatively good reaction, I end up bawling and having those awful, heartbreaking sobs.  I always think I’m doing well, and then BAM!  It hits me with a tonne of bricks that another month has passed and I have to start all over again.

I also don’t feel like I’ve been given all of the information I need during this process.  Like I said earlier, it’s extremely busy in the mornings at the clinic.  They’re busy – I can appreciate that.  Especially since I feel like I’ve held up their routine.  (How?  Well, my ultrasounds take twice as long since my left ovary goes into hiding every time.  It’s so hard to find her and it’s a long process.  I always feel bad about that).  So with them trying to see everyone in a timely manner, I never feel like I can have a conversation about what the hell is going on.  I know if I just continued to sit when the doctor got up or I just came with a list of questions, they’d address them all.  Reality is that I’m so overwhelmed by the time the doctor comes around that all questions vanish from my mind.  Not only that, but I’m not overly assertive, so that doesn’t help either.

The good doctor did give me a little hope… he said that I will eventually get pregnant with the Femara and timed intercourse.  He said even with the PCOS, he’s not worried.  He doesn’t want to rush over into IUI.  If I had other health issues and if I were older, yes, he’d want to move forward to the next step.  Right now, though, he wants to continue doing what we’re doing.  And followed that with this little gem:  “You know, there’s only a 6% chance, maybe 7% since you’re young, that this is going to work each time.”.  I don’t know what to even say about that.  I thought there was like, I don’t know, maybe a 20% chance that our current protocol would work…

Then we were told to book my Sonohysterogram.  I’m nervous about this test.  Scared is probably more accurate.  I don’t like new tests, I don’t like anything I’ve read about the test, and I definitely don’t like that it’s not covered by OHIP and is going to cost $250.  I also didn’t get to pick the day or time for this test, and lucky for me – it’s on the same day as a meeting I need to go to for schooling information.

And that’s that.  I had a few sobering moments these last couple of days.


here’s a text messaging exchange between Cody and I that I thought you might enjoy:

B:  Guess what this fucking procedure is next week?  Oh, trans-vag ultrasound, followed by a speculum insertion, a cervix scrub, catheter insertion, then some agitated salt water to fill my cervix.

C:  Wow, those things got worse…  pretty much in the order you listed them.

B:  Yup.  Pretty much.

C:  What would they use to scrub and why do they need to scrub it???  (I love that he can’t say “cervix”.)

B:  I guess to make it clean so there’s no chance for infection from the catheter?  This is what the paper says:  A SPECULUM EXAMINATION IS THEN PERFORMED, AT WHICH TIME THE CERVIX IS SEEN AND CLEANSED WITH A CLEANING SOLUTION.

C:  This sounds more like an invasive and public douching.  :S

Oh, how sweet and observant he is.  Back off ladies – he’s all mine!!

A Special Thank You to the Makers of Advil

Aunt Flo is here – and on time, that punctual cow.

There was some pain.  And then some more pain.  I was headache-y, cranky, and tired.  My in-laws came to visit and we all went to look at the new house and it’s progress.  We have shingles on the roof:  yay!  Afterwards, they took us for a buffet breakfast and the cramps came full force while I munched on some pancakes.  I hadn’t taken an Advil – I was actually feeling good, so it didn’t seem necessary.  Everyone told me to wait until the first cramps or until spotting.  I didn’t have either.  Anyway, we finished break-y and came home.  Cody’s mom and dad didn’t stick around for long, so I ran upstairs, found I was bleeding and sucked back an Advil…  Apparently I waited too long and before I knew it, a half hour had passed and the cramps were terrible.  Between my almost-tears and near-screams, I timed my cramps.  The severe ones were every 5 mins and lasted about a full 45 seconds.  Between the Kill-Me-Now’s, there were constant This-Sucks-It’s-Never-Going-To-End cramps, which were mostly tolerable, but a reminder that it wasn’t over.  We had to leave at 1 to head to the city for a game (an hour drive… each way – why did we move again?) so I took another Advil, even though I wasn’t supposed to for another 3 hours, got a chocolate milkshake, and sat in the car and talked to Cody about what a pain in the ass this TTC journey is.  The cramps died down by the time the game started, and returned in time for dinner.  Before bed, I had a couple of Advil PM – which probably saved my life – and snuggled with my heating pad.  I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was take an Advil.  So far, so good.  I feel tentatively good!

And so starts another cycle.  I get to haul ass to the clinic tomorrow.  CD 3 is always the worst for me.  I hate getting the ultrasounds while on my period.  If it’s not already humiliating enough, you get to lay on a mat and literally expose your bleeding self.  I hate it.

Cody and I inevitably will fight tomorrow morning on the way to the clinic.  I’ll say something rude.  Or he will and I’ll be over sensitive about it.  We’ll be late for the testing and still somehow get Cody to work on time.  By the time we reunite at the end of the day, all will be forgiven and we’ll be on our way to being optimistic again.

During our drive, we had a good talk and decided we’re going to try something new this time.  It’s going to be our last cycle where we try timed intercourse with Femara, Ovidrel trigger, and Progesterone.  I’m going to need to do a test to see if my tubes are blocked (oh joy).  If we’re not successful again this cycle, we’re taking a two month break.

Why two months, you ask?

Well, our house should be ready in July.  We’ll no longer have a roommate – which instantly makes sex: more fun; more relaxing; less awkward; less timed; natural.

Living with a roommate and trying to get pregnant was the stupidest thing we’ve done. I don’t know why we didn’t wait (it was probably me being impatient).  However, from the very first cycle we’ve moved from our condo, into this house with our friend and it hasn’t made being Cody&Beanie very easy.  I don’t like the idea of our roomie hearing us have sex – so I hold off until it’s late, we’re tired, and it ends up being … well, not like it used to be, anyway.

I am also a very easily stressed person, and living in someone else’s house, having people over all of the time, and living in a never-ending Bro’s night has not helped to lower my stress levels.  I am convinced that living here has not been the best option for my uterus… I don’t think she’s been feeling like she wants to host a 9 month party.

When we FINALLY get possession of our house, I think Cody and I will be happier, more comfortable, and like the old couple we used to be.  It’ll end up being a better environment for us to conceive.

After this cycle, we’re also likely moving on to a more invasive, scientific step:  IUI.  In the instructions I received on the first day I stepped foot into the clinic, I received paperwork regarding sperm washes and IUI.  It says to go home and relax.  I simply cannot do that in our current living situation.  In the house of my dreams, with a loving husband, and my two fur babies:  I can.

So we’ll be in the house by July; ready to TTC again by August.

I am kind of jumping the gun here.  I’m pretty much eluding to the idea that this cycle is not going to work.  I hope it does.  I really hope we don’t need an IUI.  But there’s also a part of me that wonders why it would work when it hasn’t 3 months in a row.  Nothing will be different…. so why would the outcome be different?  That being said, I have, of course, analyzed the last month with a magnifying glass and will make a couple of adjustments.

I have also decided that I’m going to go back to school.  My work-from-home job is shit.  I don’t make money.  I can’t find anything in the job market and I’m constantly applying for jobs that I have no interest in and/or have done and don’t like.  I’m basically applying for anything.  And still there are no calls backs.  I’ve wanted to go back to school for quite some time, so I’m taking a few steps to just go through with it.  I was initially thinking of a September start – but since we might be on a conception-attempt-break, I’m going to stall until January.  I explained to Cody that I believe I can be pregnant and go to school.  I don’t think I can go to school and try to get pregnant.  There are just too many appointments – that and a heavy course load, exams, early start classes, and homework and I think it’s a set up for TTC to fail.  Again.  I want to give my body the best possible chance at getting pregnant and I don’t think that starting school at the same time would be a good idea.  I feel as if you need to give school so much time, effort, and attention… and TTC to requires even more.  I do want to go to school, but I want to have a baby more.  I can go back to school anytime, and there’s only so long that I can attempt to have a child.  I also know that there’s a possibility that I’ll end up pregnant and find that I can’t handle school.  If so, I can break from school, defer the semester, and once I have my baby, go back.  There’s a lot of options out there.

It was hard to talk about breaking for a bit.  At the time of the talk, I was getting agitated and upset – I mean, these fucking cramps would have all been for nothing.  The hormonal changes, headaches, sleepiness, arguments:  a waste.  Not to mention all of the medications!  I told Cody we needed to talk about something else because it was heading into fighting territory.  But when we were driving back home and I was no longer doubled over in pain, I had time to think clearly and see that that there were some valid reasons and beneficial points to taking a small break.  If it’s needed, of course.

with a smile,


Confessions of a Hormonal Raging Bitch

I must be going crazy.  It’s the only explanation.

First, I’m a raging, jealous bitch.  I’m envious of everything.  Things that don’t make a difference to me.  Oh – friend, Jessica is buying a new car.  Really should mean nothing to me… except that I feel like causing physical harm.  I’m pissed off cause I know she can’t afford the car.  She can’t afford insurance.  She’s a terrible driver too!  Just because I know these things, still shouldn’t make me all pissed off, should it?  I’m annoyed because she’s miraculously found the money for these things (*cough*  daddy.  *cough*…  *cough* ridiculously generous boss who has no idea that this friend of mine is going to quit her job and the only reason she wants a car is so that she can go on interviews.  um… *cough*).  I can’t even get a decent job, let alone find a boss willing to just give me a few thousand dollars just because.  Jessica gets new TV’s, has a stupid large DVD collection of limited edition Disney movies.  She eats out all of the time.  She has student loans, like 6 maxed out credit cards and complains that she never has enough money.  But she’s buying a fucking car.  News flash, bitch:  the cost of the car and the insurance is just the beginning.  You need money for maintenance, gas, parking.

And again, this should mean nothing to me.  She’s goes in even more debt – no harm to me, is it?

There’s a whole pile of other issues that piss me off about this particular friend (and I’m feeling more and more evil as I continue to bitch about her.).  She’s overweight – like really overweight – and she couldn’t care less.  I mean, Jessica talks about how she wants to lose weight, and is usually buying a bag of chips while she says it.  I don’t really care, because A) I have my own weight issues and B) it’s her problem, not mine.  The thing that annoys me is that I’ve worked so hard to lose weight; I try to watch what I eat; I make attempts at exercising.  And still, I’m diabetic.  Now, I’m not wishing diabetes on anyone – it’s a bitch and if you’re not careful, she’ll take your life.  Sometimes just a toe like some bastard in the Mafia you owe money to.  My point here is this:  it’s not fair.  I sound completely juvenile and spoiled as I say that, but it’s true.  I’m fully aware that life is not fair, but sometimes that alone is not fair.

By this point I’m sure you’re wondering what the fuck this has to do with getting pregnant.  Here goes.  Since Jessica has weight issues and health issues I’m sure I’m not aware of, she’s also had some problems with her ovaries.. basically, she doesn’t stop bleeding unless she’s on birth control tablets.  The doctor has told her that she desperately needs to lose weight and that it’s too much for her ovaries to handle.  She does not care.  She is on a type of birth control to cause her to only have a period every three months.  She was anaemic and needing iron supplements because her body could not stop her from bleeding. SHE DOES NOT CARE!!  WHAT THE FUCK.  She tells me she wants a baby and because she’s 32, she needs to get started.  But she’s not dating.  She has no interest in dating.  In fact, she’s told me outright that she wants a partner only because she wants a house and child.  She can’t afford either on her own.  And Artificial Insemination, sperm donors, and medications are too much for her to pay for.  WHAT. THE. EVER-LOVING. FUCK.  I’m raging all over.  And the kicker?  I bet if she lost weight, her period would even out and she’d get pregnant with no problems.

And here I sit:  fairly balanced woman with a loving husband, in a healthy-ish relationship, ready to give my beautiful curly haired baby all I can.  And I get to struggle.  Fertility medications, fertility treatments, ultrasounds, pelvic exams, appointments, crying, laughing, crying some more, and no positive result at the end of it all.

Readers, I’m really not a terrible person.  I don’t back stab my friends.  I don’t gossip.  I’m bitching about all of this today because it’s on my mind and bothering me.  But Jessica isn’t Jessica’s real name.  And even if it was, I don’t use my own real name and no one I know (with the exception of Cody) even knows I have a blog.  And I wouldn’t believe it for a second if someone told me that they never bitched about a friend.

In addition to being jealous about cars and jobs, I’m jealous of other friends.  I’m jealous of a particularly cute, newly married, close couple-friends of ours.  I’m jealous cause I know they’re going to be trying for a baby soon and they’re going to be successful.  Again, I’m not wishing infertility on anyone – and I really hope they have a baby.  It’s going to be so cute and they’ll be lovely parents.  I’m not going to lie though – I’m going to be insanely envious.  And sad.. for Cody and I.  Cause that’s what fertility issues does to you.

When someone announces on Facebook (how personal, bitch) that they’re pregnant, no joke – they’re blocked.  A friend of mine had a baby boy and the only reason I knew he was born was because I have her sister on Facebook as well, and she announced the arrival.  I haven’t unblocked her – I don’t want to see pictures.  Clearly, we’re not close friends.

In fact, after all this bitching, it’s no wonder I don’t have many close friends.

With all of the envy and jealousy seeping through my pores, it has me wondering if there’s a greater being looking down on me and saying that it’s not my time since I don’t seem to want it for the right reasons.  I’m coveting my neighbours healthy womb.


Anyway, there’s another part to the post.  I’m sure you’re tired of reading by now, so if you want to break and come back later, I get it.

I’m having fucked up dreams.

My mother left me when I was about 2 years old (ohhhhh, that’s a whole other pile of insecurities about why I’m not pregnant or how I’ll fair as a mother).  I haven’t seen my mother since I was 7 and I have no intentions of having any meet-and-greets in the near future.  Anyway, dreams.  I had a dream I told her off the other day.  It was fantastic and satisfying and so real.

It was followed by a dream that I can’t get out of my head:  I went to the fertility clinic and had an ultrasound.  The technician pointed to a circle on the screen and said that I was pregnant.  I look closer, and it changed to the infertility circle symbol.  How fucked is that?

And then last night I had a terrible dream.  Another friend of mine is 7 months pregnant and in this dream, I saw her at the hospital in a wheel chair.  I walked up to her and asked her if it was time.  She cried and told me that she couldn’t feel the baby moving anymore.  I feel terrible even writing that I had that dream.

Normally, I do have vivid and clear dreams.  I remember them easily, as they’re usually very traumatic for me.  I’ve had a dream about one of my nieces dying; I dreamt that my mother shot my Dad.  I have countless dreams about Cody leaving me.  And while planning our wedding, I always dreamt that I forgot my shoes on the day of the wedding.  I don’t know what they mean.  All I can assume is that my insecurities, frustrations, and fears are surfacing.

It’s making it really hard to get a good night of sleep.

Thanks for letting me vent… again.  I hope you don’t think I’m a terrible person.


(Temporary?) Insanity

I don’t think I have multiple personalities, but I definitely have at least a few different attitudes.  And while I didn’t want Negative-Nancy to make an appearance this month, she’s popped up and decided to write a blog entry today.

You are warned.

Tomorrow, I’ll be pissing on a stick to see if I’m pregnant.  It’s most likely going to be a waste of 20 bucks.  I’m very sure it didn’t happen for us again this month.  Why?  Oh, well, it’s just these fantastic little pre-show cramps that are torturing me today.  Not too bad – after all,  this is just the opening act.  A little glimpse of what is to come in the next few days. Hmm… and the really sore breasts.  And the mood swings… right.

Seriously though – I’m so fed up.  I’m tired ALL the time.  I’m sore ALL of the time.  I’m trying so hard to be happy and optimistic   And yes, Sunshine-Sally does her best to stick around most of the time, but there are just days when Bitchy-Belinda does what she wants.

And that wench, Hopeful-Helen, she came around too.  She made me believe that because this month I’d have the progesterone suppositories (yes – suppositories.  F.M.L.), this would help and I’d get pregnant.  Once again, this month was just going to be the month that everything worked.  But it’s not.  And it didn’t.

Who knows – maybe things will be different.  I don’t actually really know all of the intervention didn’t work again. But, I know my body and I know what my period is like… well, I know what it’s like NOW.  I only have a faint memory of what it used to be like – all painless and mellow.  Point is, just cause I feel like my period is coming, doesn’t mean it will.  And I still have no choice but to POAS since I’d have to haul ass to the clinic to get MORE suppositories, blood work, and ultrasounds if it did come back positive.  I would not even be allowed to just be happy with the + sign.*  The alternative is being pissed off and depressed at seeing that lonely, single, solitary line.  Again.

Oh, and ladies – FYI.  If you have to get the suppositories, let it be known that they SUCK.  They’re bullet shaped (oh, that’s a comforting shape to shove in your vagina), waxy little things that get inserted without the use of an applicator.  Yup – you get to finger-job yourself not once, but twice a day (if you take 2 suppositories at night – if not, you get to do it 3 times a day).  They say to use a panty-liner to avoid “mess”.  Bullshit.  You need a pad.  And you get to do this for 2 weeks!  So for 3 fucking weeks of the month, I have to wear a sanitary napkin.  I’m not fond of this period protocol… for lack of a better term.  You do this until you get your period or until your second trimester.   Just another perk of having fertility issues.

But, Beanie, how do you have sexy time?

You don’t.  Well, not easily.  Definitely not without embarrassment   You can’t use them before you have sex.  Maybe you could, but I doubt it.  Plus, I could say with great confidence that Cody wouldn’t love the idea of seeing the “mess”.  And if you’re like me, I like to do the deed before bed, which happens to be the time I need to take the medication. So, we fool around and then I insert the bullets.  Well, I’ll save you details, but it’s messier than usual, let me tell you.  And gross.  And it doesn’t make you want to go back for seconds, that’s for sure.

Since I’ve already given way too many details and caused a whole bunch of readers to unfollow and/or close this post, I’m going to just continue.

If I do get my period, I’m gonna be so pissed.  Mostly at my doctor and Mother Nature.  I cannot handle the pain.  You might think I’m a wuss, and clearly my doctor does too, but I really cannot go through the same level of pain for many more months.  These cramps are out of this world.  It’s all funny to joke and make light that I’ll never make it through the contractions – but seriously, the pain from my periods is killing me.  I do all I can – Advil, heating pads, chocolate.  It’s temporary relief at best.  I don’t know what else to tell the doctor.  She laughs at me basically tells me to suck it up and that most women have been feeling the same pain but for longer than me – since I’ve only been so lucky to start ovulating about 3 months ago.



End rant.


PS:  I’m sorry readers.  Really, really sorry about all of the bitching.  I had to get it off my chest.  I’ve been keeping a smile and good attitude for Cody.  The good Buddha is teaching me to let things go… but I’m apparently struggling with letting things go completely.  Or, maybe I’m not the Buddha, just a mere human who suffers from frustrations and annoyances.  You decide.

Thanks for stickin’ with me though, friends.

* Of course, if I get a positive result and I do have to go to the clinic – I’ll still be overjoyed.  Nothing could make me unhappy after seeing that little, bitty plus sign.

Hopin’, and Wishin’. Plannin’ and… Crafting?

I didn’t mention this before, but I own my own little crafting business.  I make polymer clay things.  Some figurines, mostly ornaments for Christmas.  I’ve always thought I’d bust into the jewellery portion of the art, but never really got too much nerve to actually sit down and design anything.  Not that I have a talent for that anyway.  Not that I’ve really even tried, to be honest.

BUT!  I sat down a couple of weeks ago during a particularly depressing moment and made my first pendant.  I needed a distraction and my clay “called” to me.  I don’t know why I didn’t finish the tree I was making.  I don’t know why I didn’t start the zombies I’ve been dying to make.  Either way, this is what I did and I thought I’d share it with you guys first.  Well, second – Cody was there when I made it.

This is the front…


I thought a lot about what I wanted to write on the pendant.  “Strength” was too long and “hope” seemed… cliché.  Anyway, at that moment, on that day, “waiting” is what I was doing and it fit.

On the back, I added the infertility symbol.  It’s not 100% accurate, but it’s close.  I don’t know why I picked a flower; a baby foot would have worked and looked cute, but would have been too obvious.  I’m not open with my fertility issues, so if I do wear this pendant, it’s not likely to garner any questions or hopeful looks from family and friends.

I’ll probably redo this pendant.  Choose some different colors, add some different writing.  I plan to add a patina to it as well, which will bring out the writing.  All in all, I like it and I hope some of you do too.

I’d love some suggestions as well!  Instead of a flower, what would you like to see on the front?  What wording?  What colors?


Medications, Procedures, and Tests! Oh My!

I was wrong about a couple of things.

Aunt Flo dropped in late Friday night.  So sort of on time, technically.  This, unfortunately for me, meant I’d haul ass back to the clinic on Monday morning which is never fun because it’s insanely busy on Mondays.  And because it’s Monday.

I meant with Dr. C. and she said that everything looked great last month.  We’ve evened out my periods, which was her major concern in the first place.  Hey, if I can ovulate, that’s half the battle.  She asked me if I’ve ever been tested to see if my tubes were blocked.  This caught be off guard because I felt if this was a possible issue, shouldn’t there be signs?  Shouldn’t all of  the intervention I’ve had this far been unsuccessful?  Shouldn’t we have tested this first?  Well, apparently I do not know much about the female reproductive system and it’s no wonder I’m not pregnant.  Research says:  You CAN ovulate with blocked tubes.  You CAN get your period with blocked tubes.  Research also told me how this test is performed and I can tell you this much:  I don’t think I can do it.

In fact, I don’t think I can do much more of any of this.  It’s starting to take a real toll on me.  Each time I have to get up and start a whole cycle over, I turn into a complete psychopath (not literally – I haven’t murdered anyone or anything.).

Anyway – back to blocked tubes.  The good doctor said we should test that before started any injectable medications (again – WTF.  We’re at that stage??  WHEN DID IT GO THERE?!).  The would be no point starting those expensive medications (Oh, fucking fantastic.  More money.  Lovely.) if, basically, everything isn’t clean and clear.  Then we’d start to talk about sperm washes and IUI’s.  Oh, and if they’re blocked?  Well, there’s surgery and/or IVF.  Perfect.  If it goes there, Cody and I can expect to spend all of the money on that instead of our one and only trip we have planned to Greenland.

I guess I was a little less tolerant by this point and asked something along the lines of whether it was a problem or not that we hadn’t been successful yet.  She said no, not necessarily.  At my age and with our good health she’d typically try what we’re doing 3 to 6 times before moving on – but if we wanted to, we could do the HSG tube test thing and see where we’re at.  Cody and I looked at each other and somehow telepathically agreed that we’d do what we’ve been doing and then if it didn’t work, we’d do the test next month and go from there.  So essentially, we’d have 2 more tries of Femara/Ovidrel trigger/timed intercourse before shelling out thousands of dollars.  Only difference is a sick torture technique somewhere in the middle of the 4th cycle.

I just don’t understand why it hasn’t worked.  I don’t even think the doctor has a reason either.  And now, I have this other thing that could be an issue and could be the cause of so much pain.  And, funnily enough, would be the cause of more physical pain.  We all know I’m going to research the hell out of this and just make myself crazy with the thought that it is a problem we didn’t know about.

Speaking of physical pain, I brought up the fact that my period has been making me bed ridden.  She laughed it off again, saying that I’m not used to that since I don’t ovulate on my own – which I call bullshit on.  There is no way that I’ve NEVER ovulated on my own in all of the years I’ve had my period.  I’ve had cramps before and this is beyond.  It’s now been suggested that I take a 400mg Extra Strength Advil at the first sign of spotting and this preventative dosage should be enough to make it though.  Apparently, if you wait until you’re in pain, the pain producing hormone (??) is already in your blood stream and it takes that much longer for the good stuff to kick in.  Regardless, I was hoping for morphine, but I’ll give her suggestion a try.  Fingers crossed I won’t need to worry about that at the end of this cycle.

Oh, and I bought “The Buddha Walks Into the Bar” last night.  I read the first chapter and it’s already given me things to think about.  I have hope that this book is going to make this cycle a little easier and more tolerable!

Whatever it takes.





I know I shouldn’t be griping about money.  And there might be some of you who are thinking that money should be no object if I really want to be a mother and give Cody a baby.  Money is no object – we’ll do what we need to do.  We have the savings, as I mentioned before.  What I struggle with is the fact that we could end up spending all of it and in the end, still have nothing.  And at some point, money does become an obstacle.  And while I want to do all I can, I simply cannot run fast enough to be able to escape police – so robbing a bank when we’re out of savings is not an option.