The 2WW Blues

I am my own worst enemy.  I’m very critical of myself, my self esteem is fragile, and a million other personality defects.  Today, I’m being a Debbie Downer on myself.

I went for my progesterone check this morning.  I called the office even though I was told that they would call me if there was a problem, and was told that everything is good.  The reason I called?  I needed someone – a professional someone – to tell me that I could be pregnant.  That just because I’m cramping a bit, it doesn’t mean I’m going to get my period.  I didn’t really get that reassurance (I admit – I didn’t come out and ask for comfort), so instead I’m trying to tell myself that it’s alright.  I didn’t do anything wrong.  This “cold” or whatever is going on with my body, didn’t mess up my chances.  There is still a chance.  A good chance!

But I’m having a hard time truly believing it.

I hate the 2WW.


People, Let Me Tell Ya ‘Bout My Best Friend

A lot of people say that their best friend is their significant other. A lot of people don’t believe that can be true. A lot of people don’t think that having your spouse as your best friend is particularly healthy.

Fuck em.

Cody is my best friend. I do have a female best friend who I’ve known since I was 4 years old. I am close with her – we have matching foot tattoos, for crying out loud! – but Cody and I are more. Obviously, right? Well, it goes beyond the fact that we sleep together and have sex. He really is my best friend.

People rarely see one of us without the other. When they do, there’s always someone asking where the other is. Cody and I spend all of our spare time together. Even in the house, we are not usually even in separate rooms. We watch all of the same TV shows and movies, so “quiet time” is even together. We hold hands all of the time, we have stupid nicknames for each other, and we often get in bed and talk for a while before falling asleep. Even as I write this, it’s sickeningly cute and bordering on unhealthy. But we honestly just like each other. We enjoy spending time together, doing whatever.

In fact, if I didn’t know, I wouldn’t believe that we’ve been together for almost 7 years.

Over these 7 years things have been far from perfect. Our fights are loud and huge. I’ve thrown a thing or two and he’s done his fair share of being mean. But when we analyze what the fight was and what the real reason(s) for getting upset were, they are far from relationship-ending problems. One fight (that went on and on for months) was about Cody’s bachelor party. Fights after that have mostly been about family issues. We just don’t have significant problems in our relationship – and it’s great.

Since the day Cody and I met, he’s been trying to sweep me off my feet. I’m chunky, so literally doing it is difficult.

Cody showed up on our second date with a tent in his car. Why? Because I’d mentioned that I enjoyed camping and he wanted to show me that he wanted to eventually go camping with me.

On a date a little after that, I responded to getting together that weekend with “Plan a vacation!”. I was joking, but sure enough, he did it. I travelled to Toronto that weekend (I was living about 20 minutes outside of Toronto). He met me at the train, took me to dinner and he’d rented a hotel room. In the room, I found a bouquet of pink lillies and a (melting) tub of my favorite ice cream. He confessed that he remembered pink lillies were my favorite, but he didn’t know what they were – so he asked a florist. The next day, we went on a tour around the city and then for a picnic. All because I told him I’d never actually been into Toronto.

For our engagement, Cody snuck a suit out of the house. He went for a haircut that day (he hates getting his hair cut almost as much as I do), somehow got dressed into his suit while in our car, came up to our condo and knocked on the door. When I opened the door, he was on one knee with a bouquet of pink lillies and a ring box with the most beautiful ring. He forgot to actually propose, but I cried anyway.

One year we went dog sledding for my birthday. Last year I got a sewing machine for Christmas. He even sat through a Dixie Chicks concert. He does these great, wonderful things just to make me smile.

And now for the latest surprise – I received a book from Cody yesterday. Actually, it was a travel guide. He actually planned a trip without me knowing. We’re going to Iceland in February! Why? Because I’m turning 30 in February. And he wants to make it my best birthday ever.

I count myself lucky every single day. I only hope Cody knows I love him as much as he loves me.


Extreme Symptom Spotting

One time when I was a kid, my aunt kissed me when she had a cold sore.  Since then, I’ve unfortunately been prone to them near the entrance of my nostril.  Not often, but every once in a while.  Mostly if I get sick and/or my temperature spikes.  Anyway, last night, the tell tale signs of a cold sore popped up.  So I took a couple of Tylenol to clear any fever I might have and then started slapping on some Abreva.  Today, it started to get a little worse, but I’m hoping I caught it in time and that it’s not going to spread all nasty like.  Granted, it might be moot since the Abreva that I had was expired… but I got a new tube and am hoping this clears things up a bit.

What the heck does that have to do with anything?

Well, it turns out that “Baby Brain Sans Baby” was never so appropriate.  I just googled “cold sore and early pregnancy symptoms”.  And was overjoyed that it’s actually something a lot of women experienced early on in their pregnancies.  Apparently the change in hormones can cause a cold sore flare up.  Apparently a woman trying to get pregnant can perceive anything as an early pregnancy symptom.

So here I am, hoping that I don’t end up with a nasty cold sore, but praying that if I do, it’s all cause I’m pregnant.



Another Notch in the IF Belt

I can’t type right now.  My 7 pound terrorist cat will not stop climbing into my lap.  The only problem?  I’m trying to type on a LAPtop.  Gosh – I hate her but she’s so dang pudgey and fluffy.

Think of me for the next little while, please?  I had Part B of IUI #3 today.  I know this cycle is going to work, but some well wishes, good thoughts, prayers, vibes – all of them will go a long, long way.  

Some new developments in Cody and Beanie Trying to Make A Baby:

  • I told the doctor that this is the last IUI for a while.  If it does not work, then I’ll be on a break.  With that, I’m so not stressing.  I know what’s going to happen and I’m just finally relaxed!  
  • Cody and I decided that if this cycle doesn’t work (even though it’s totally going to work), we’ll be “breaking”, as I mentioned above.  I’ll go back to taking Femara and having timed intercourse, but we’ll also start the process of trying to adopt.  Well, we’ll be attending seminars and all that jazz.  
  • Cody started CoQ10 this month, along with a multi-vitamin and folic acid.  The results:  Woah.  Here’s a look….  IUI #1 – Part A:  14 million; Part B:  36 million.  IUI#2 – Part A:  11 million; Part B:  ??can’t remember??  IUI#3 – Part A:  40 million; Part B:  40 million
  • I was on medication for a few LESS days than last time.  Nice for me.  Nice for the bank account.
  • I only ate fast food once this week!  And it was SUBWAY.  What!? 
  • I took my injectables at night, ON TIME, this time.  It was so much better.  No mood swings, no other real side effects except a mild headache when I woke up some mornings.
  • My results were more favorable this month as well.  My follicles grew as they wanted them to.  I will be releasing 6 or 7 GOOD eggs, all of similar sizes.  My estrogen is climbing as it should.
  • Yesterday, I was able to come home from my IUI and lay down for an hour and a half.  There is no proof that it will help a single thing, but mentally, it did wonders.
  • Every single person in the office is excited for me.  They all tell me that the numbers are good.  They all tell me that they have a “good feeling”.  They are all just so excited for me.
  • It rained today.  Rain is always the sign we get from God that things are going to be A-OK.  It rained when we moved in together for the first time… it rained the day we got engaged (in FEBRUARY!)… it rained on our wedding day… it rained on the day we decided to sign papers and buy a house.

Tonight – maybe tomorrow – I will be starting the dreaded progesterone.  My pregnancy test will be on December 6th!

The only thing that made me have a mild freak out:  I was having an amazing day yesterday.  IUI went well, I got to nap before work, and I figured out the best Christmas gift for Cody.  However, I went to work and this crazy person who kind works with me, but not really, came over and decided to be a complete cow.  She doesn’t like me.  She won’t ever like me.  And when she started accusing me of fucking up, and then was talking about me like I wasn’t there, I lost my mind.  I politely told her that it’s wasn’t my fault (it really wasn’t) and then went about ignoring her.  Still though, she somehow was able to get me so upset that I was on the verge of tears a few times during the day.  I cried (ok, bawled) to Cody when he got home and confessed that I’m worried that the stress and anxiety of the incident will somehow cause the cycle to fail.  After a good hug and reassurances, I let it go.  I was also able to walk into work today and ignore that wench!  And didn’t stress out!  I will reply when she speaks to me… but I will not be initiating any conversations, let me tell ya!

How pathetic is this though?

B:  She was so mean to me!  I didn’t even make those tags!  And Lisa let me take all the heat!

C:  Peep, she’s nobody.  This is all she has in life.  She probably dropped out of high school and worked her way up from cashier and is miserable cause she’s been with the company for 25 years.  She’s power tripping.

B:  But I’m trying to have a babbbbbbbbbbbbbbyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! (whaling and crying even harder)


I manage to make myself cringe.

Anyway, I know this is all over the place.  I’ve been up for too many hours with not enough sleep and a long day at work.  I just hope that you guys will send a lot of positivity our way!

Thinking of you all, 



mine, mine, mine!

Last night’s date night proved to me that infertility will not break my relationship.

Cody loves me more than anyone has ever loved me.  And because he loves me so, I can’t help loving him with the same intensity.

My husband:  lover of rock music; manly man who likes to try things like hiking, snow shoeing, geocaching; man who enjoys wearing novelty shirts; guy who’s favorite movies include “Police Academy”, “Under Seige”, and “Goon”.

This man planned date night.  He planned (and I quote) “Arguably {his} best surprise ever”.  It was totally his best surprise ever.


I love the Dixie Chicks!  I have wanted to see them in concert forever.  My husband got me tickets!!  Not only did he get me tickets, but he actually went to the concert WITH me!

Now, as if that wasn’t already above and beyond, it gets better.  Today, my Cody was patient and loving enough to let me drag him to a psychic fair.  I am shamelessly totally and completely into psychics, tarot cards, the whole shebang. He even attended a lecture!

This man is my world.  We might be struggling though this really huge, really expensive time in our lives. But we’re doing it together.  And though all of that mess, my husband remembered that I love the Dixie Chicks.  And he loves me enough to sit through a 3 hour concert of music that makes his hair stand on end.  FOR ME.  Because he wanted me to be happy.  Just because he wanted me to smile.  He wanted to make a dream of mine come true.  And after all of that, he sat and waited for me to have my palm read, just because I wanted to do that too.

I have so much love for him, and he returns it 10 fold some days.  I know I can make it though any problem, as long as I have Cody.  I’m not saying it will be easy or that we won’t fight and maybe give each other the cold shoulder every now and again… but we will never give up on each other.

And because of all of this, I know we will always find a way to be happy. We may not beat infertility… but infertility damn sure isn’t going to beat us, either.


PS – I still haven’t heard from Auntie F.???

Love Birds (how cliché)

Who wouldn’t want to walk out of work, look at their cell phone, and have a message like this waiting for them?

From Cody:

“Date night tonight!  I have it all planned but please be ready for 6.  I planned a super-surprise.  Arguably my best surprise ever.”

I have no idea what we’re doing, where we’re going, what to wear, etc.  But I’m excited!

Have a good weekend, buddies!



Maybe Now They Can Understand

I just got out of the shower.  I sat and watched movies all day long.  I ate a lot of food.  It’s now 5:40PM and the only reason I showered was because Cody is going to be home soon.  

My skin is bright red.  Some of the redness comes from crying a teensy bit… most of it was from the temperature of the water.  *While in the shower, I kept turning the hot water up.  I wanted to see just how much I could take – but did it without even thinking about it, really.  When it got to the point of being super hot but not exactly scalding, I suddenly started to think about what I was doing and why.  It’s simple, really.  I wanted to not feel numb anymore today.

**I texted Cody to tell him about the negative test.  I explained that we could all just stop wondering already – I failed again, and basically just pissed out $4000 worth of medications and tests… in 28-ish days.  Cody asked me how I could feel like a failure when we’re faced with legitimate medical issues that we’re not in control of.  He told me that I shouldn’t feel that way and, most importantly, he does not see me as a failure.

Nice words?  Yes.  Realistic?  No.

So why do I feel a failure?  After all, he’s right.  I have PCOS.  I have Type 2 Diabetes.  There’s a bunch of other reasons contributing to my inability to get pregnant.  

Well, folks.  Let me clarify WHY I feel like a failure.  

  • Every time I tell Cody I’m not pregnant, he’s disappointed.
  • Every time I see my in-laws, they look at my stomach.  Then they eagerly perk their ears up anytime I open my mouth, no doubt hoping for a “Guess whaaaaat!?” pregnancy announcement.
  • Every time I talk to my own parents, I am asked how things are going.  I then have to broach the subject and lead in with a “Well, it didn’t work again, but…..”
  • Every couple of weeks, my best friend checks in with me about what part of my cycle I’m in, what medications I’m taking, what procedures we’re going through, and how I’m feeling.  I’m then obligated to tell her that, again, the stuff didn’t work.  
  • Every time I walk into the fertility clinic on CD3 I am bombarded with sad faces.  Everyone feels so sad that it didn’t work.  Everyone questions why it didn’t work.  Everyone tells me that this is going to be the cycle that DOES work.  EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
  • Every time I check my WordPress reader feed, someone tells me that their protocol worked.  So when I read that people were using Femara and Timed Intercourse and were successful, I thought I would be too.  But I wasn’t.  Then I read that a few people only needed 1 or 2 IUI’s and they were successful.  So when mine didn’t work, it meant that something is wrong with me.
  • Every time I walk into a mall, or catch a train, or go grocery shopping, I see beautiful pregnant women.  I don’t know their stories or their struggles – but I know they were able to make it work.  And I can’t.
  • Every time I turn on the TV (no joke), something about pregnancy comes up.  All types of media remind me that pregnancy is easy and normal for the majority of the population.  Too bad I’m not the majority. 

That’s a pretty long list of reasons to feel like a failure.  They’re real reasons.  They might not make sense to everyone, but they’re my reasons.

And maybe now you understand.




*  I do not suggest doing this.  It is not exactly a healthy coping strategy.

** I don’t recommend delivering any type of “news” via text message.  But hey – I do it.  So who am I to judge?


Same Result x 10

And on the 10 cycle, He declared another BFN.

I wish there was more to say about it.  But really, who would care?  You might feel bad for me, or even sad for me, but you don’t know me.  I’m not saying that for a few seconds or minutes you might not care for me… but I’m not egotistical enough to believe that my BFN makes any real difference to anyone reading this.

It is what it is. 

And so this marks the ending of cycle number 10.  It ends IUI try #2.  It ends all of my hope and optimism again for another month.



With endings come beginnings.  With beginnings come questions and decision making.  Do I want another IUI?  Do I want to try and see if another medication other than Bravelle would work better?  Do I want to talk to my in-laws openly and honestly about what is happening?  Do I want to look into private adoption?  Do I want to just enjoy my husband, our life together, our home, the holidays, our families, my birthday, a vacation?

The answer:  I Have No Fucking Clue.




I do care about you all.  I appreciate all of the comments you leave me even when I’m too lazy to reply.  I know I sound harsh in this post, but who better to understand than you guys?  While I don’t think I’m interesting enough to be a topic of discussion, please note that I’ve mentioned each and every blogger I follow to my husband.  We think about you and hope you’re all doing well.  xo 


This is a very random post.  It’s really nothing to do with anything.

I’m a sensitive person.  I take most things to heart.  I am offended easily.  I cry even more easily.  Nothing hurts my feelings more than when someone says something mean and follows it up with “I’m just joking”.  I hate being teased.

I’m terrified of death.  I think about it a lot, though.  I’ll admit that I’ve thought about hurting myself, but that was a long time ago (when I was a teen) and I think everyone has the thought at least once.  I am afraid of dying, though.  I am scared about when happens when you die.  I am scared about never getting to say goodbye to the people I love.  Because of this, I never end a conversation with my husband, parents, or brother without telling them I love them.  I am, however, even more horrified at the thought of those I love dying.  Again, I think about it a lot, and the thought sometimes makes me cry.

I hate eggs.  My own included.

I am currently being terrorized by a 7 pound fluffy cat.  She is adopted from a shelter and is the cutest little furball…. so sweet, so affectionate.  But she is destroying my brand new house.  She pisses everywhere!  My husband and I want to take her back to the shelter, but they’ve told us that they wouldn’t be able to adopt her to another home knowing she has this issue…. so basically, they would euthanize her.  So, we’re back to my death fear.

I am currently completely disgusted with a large portion of my very small family.  I don’t know how to get over it.

I hate when the bottom cuffs of my pants get wet from rain/snow.  It makes me crazy when they sit against my ankles.

I have a nail polish obsession.

I hate getting my hair cut.  I hate it even more when they style it after they cut it – it’s like they’re trying to cover something up.

I blame myself for not having a kid yet.  I worry that I’m disappointing Cody, my parents, and my in-laws because I haven’t popped a couple of babies by now.

I’m fiercely protective of my family.  I think it scares my husband.

I’m insanely proud to be Canadian.  I get weirdly pissed off when someone makes fun of my country (South Park sucks).

I am baffled most of the time as to how Cody and I are still a couple.  Our fights are so loud that the cats hide.  Of course, this will change when there are little babies in the house, but until then, I’m amazed every time we don’t break up.

Speaking of Cody, I adore him.  He is the most thoughtful person I’ve ever known and I’m lucky to be his wife.

Cody has a way of evoking two opposite emotions from me at one time.  For example:  I woke up with a migraine today and he was more than willing to go downstairs and get me cold water from the fridge, Tylenol, and an ice pack.  And he left a pretty much empty water container in the fridge for me.

I have curly hair.  I hate it.

I hate getting my eyebrows waxed…. I can’t even entertain the idea of having anything else on my body waxed.

I have used tears to get my way.

I love tattoos and have 3 and I want more.  I hate having anything pierced, but I have 5.  Piercings are so much more painful than a tattoo!

I have weird anxiety issues.  Not diagnosed, of course.  Another example:  I was paranoid to open the door to trick-or-treaters last night because it was making me nervous.

I should take better care of myself… I’m diabetic and I eat the worst foods.  I barely cook at home anymore.  It is just so much easier to order something.  The funny thing is that I actually enjoy cooking and am pretty good at it.  I’m just really really lazy.

I always have a plan as to how I’m going to start getting healthier.  But I really have very little willpower and my efforts always fizzle out.

I hate when people give me tips.  About anything.  I don’t care how you diet.  I don’t care how you got into your exercise groove.  I don’t care about how you charted and took temperatures, and followed a calendar to get pregnant.  I AM NOT YOU.

I don’t know why I’m writing all of this.  I guess I felt I should write something on my blog, but didn’t really want to talk about babies or lack of.