I finished the book today, and I just couldn’t suppress my eye rolling at the little “stories” at the end from other women who got pregnant from taking herbs and meditating, even though they were 40 and their doctor told them they would need IVF. Sorry, just not buying it.

I do, however, feel like there is something to be said about mind/body health and fertility. And one paragraph in a story made me think of something that hadn’t really occurred to me before: Den. I’ve been focussing so much on me, because I’m the egg-grower, I’m the one who gets the shots and the ultrasounds, and of course because I’m the only one whose body I inhabit. (An important distinction.) But there are two of us involved here. And, furthermore, while there is no real evidence to support a conclusion, the doctor did mention that it’s usually a male factor when it comes to fertilization. Plus there are other things that make us think that – like the fact that Den was previously married and never conceived with her either.

Den has… health issues. Not huge major trumpets-blaring issues. I think it’d be a hell of a lot easier to get him to the doctor if that were the case. (Although, considering his recent major tooth issue, he still wouldn’t go.) But he has persisting problems.

The main one being headaches. He gets headaches constantly. He actually takes two advil before driving to his mom’s (40 minutes away) or he’ll spend the entire day at his mom’s with a massive headache. He goes to a chiropractor monthly for an adjustment, which helps momentarily, but it always comes back. I get so frustrated that he has to go every month to the chiropractor… I feel like it’s not fixing anything at all.

The other problem he has is exhaustion. He’s been going to bed before 11pm at night, and his alarm goes off at 6am on weekdays. I argue with him that he should be getting 8 hours of sleep a night, but he refuses to lose any more of his free time. But regardless, 7 hours is decent if not perfect, and on weekends he frequently gets more than 7. The hours he gets he doesn’t always sleep well… he snores, which I think is part of the problem. (But I really don’t think it’s sleep apnea, because I’d know if his snoring was weird… unfortunately his snores are very punctual every few seconds. Drives me crazy.) We have a new, expensive mattress that isn’t perfect, but is far from bad. He tries to get good sleep. And yet he is always exhausted. He complains about it daily (or so it seems to me). He’s frustrated; I’m frustrated.

Obviously something is out of whack in his body. I sure as hell don’t know what, and neither of us have much of a clue what to do. He doesn’t really want to go to the doctor just because he’s tired. (Plus they usually just give a prescription for something. I went to my doctor a long time ago about back problems, and he checked me out and said there was nothing wrong. Which did NOT solve my back pain in the least.)

I definitely feel like I am far more in touch with not just my emotions and state of mind, but my body as well. It’s not an accident – I’ve learned to be very in touch with myself ever since my depression started. I have to be very aware of what’s going on inside me. Plus I’ve always felt strong resistance to artificial methods… to things outside my personal control. (This is a large part of my wanting a non-medicated birth, too.)

Den’s lacking that connection. He’s the kind of person who would take four advil before a baseball game and play through the pain of his bad shoulder (past injury). A typical man, I guess… his body not working the way it “should” is an obstacle to him, something that needs to be endured and pushed past. I worry about what effect it’s going to have on him later. He’s 41 now… how is he going to feel at 60 if he just keeps “pushing through it”?

I get very worried about my husband. Him and his dog are so much alike. He has a large German Shepherd who acts like a canine tank. He plows right into things, steps on whatever is in his way without even bothering to take note of it, knocks things over on a regular basis, and doesn’t even blink when he slams his head into the underside of a table. It astounds me. (And annoys me, since I’m usually the person getting plowed into and stepped on.)

So, I don’t know, is it possible that whatever is putting the rest of his body out of whack is affecting his sperm? I know men aren’t nearly as likely to be spiritual or into that mind/body connection, and most men have perfectly normal, working sperm. But it’s a thought. Maybe there’s something to be said about energy flow or whatever you want to call it. I’m not at all a spiritual person… but it’s not such a far-fetched concept, scientifically – the idea that one thing affects another. Makes perfect sense to me.

I wonder how I can get him to consider trying things differently… considering new viewpoints. I wonder what there is to consider besides traditional medicine. Accupuncture? We’re not going to veer too far off the path into the strange and mystical. I fully believe in IVF… and I believe it’s our very best chance to get pregnant. But anything we could do to try to help… well, it couldn’t hurt, right?

At the very least we need to start trying something, anything, that could help with the headaches and the exhaustion. I just don’t know how much longer he can keep going like this. He’s always had problems but recently he has just seemed to be more and more run down.

First a little plug for my other site – on Baby Blogorama I’m hosting a Blog Blast. Go check it out! Even if you’re not a regular reader of Baby Blogorama, write up a post and send it in. I’m so looking forward to reading all the different stories people have. I’ll be writing mine up later in the week.

::

My period is… thinking about starting. There is blood happening this evening. This is a good sign. It does, however, seem reticent to actually start flowing. It is spotting… sort of.

::

A good forum buddy of mine (I call them “forum buddies” to differentiate from “blog buddies” and “longtime buddies” but they are so much more than simply friends on a forum) loaned me a book: Inconceivable, by Julia Indichova. It arrived today in the mail, a package sitting in the mailbox waiting for me. I always get excited when I get packages, even if I’m also perplexed because I know I haven’t recently ordered anything.

I said to my husband as I opened the package, “My friend read this book and got pregnant shortly after. Then she loaned it to another friend of mine and she got pregnant too.” (One from IVF, the other IUI.)
“What are you waiting for?” he said in reply. “Start reading!”

So I did.

The first couple of chapters didn’t really help my sulky mood. She already has a child. She’s over 40 with high FSH. She knows nothing about my situation. Doctors won’t touch her, she’s going to chinese herbalists! This isn’t at all like my journey.

But then it really started to take hold of me. And it wasn’t what I expected. I don’t know what I expected – I just know that this wasn’t it. It was what I needed to hear right now. I am still trying to figure out why.

It wasn’t because I think that what she did will get me pregnant. Not only do I not have the same problems as she did, but I do still firmly think that our problem is quite medical and probably will only be bypassed by IVF. That certainly hasn’t changed. I am not going to run out and drink wheatgrass or see a chinese herbalist.

But there were a few paragraphs in there that really made me stop and think about my life and how I’m living it.

There was a point, before and during IVF#1, that I was trying to put myself – my body – first. I was feeling de-stressed and very positive about the cycle, I was attempting to eat healthy and exercise. Maybe the bulk of it was before IVF#1 even came into being, but it was in the past year. And I felt good. I don’t even know what happened, but it all fell apart. I can name some outside factors that changed, but I know the real culprit was inside me. I gave up trying. Things got hard, I fell behind, and I quit.

When IVF#1 failed I really threw in the towel. I’ve been miserable. But more than being miserable I gave up. Not on our treatments, obviously – but on me. When I feel depressed – even if it’s not full-blown depression (which this wasn’t, at least not for more than a day or two) – my willpower goes out the window. Eat healthy? Fuck that, I feel like cake. Exercise? I’m miserable, I’m going to stay in bed. Be productive? I want to wallow.

The worst part is that it’s a self-perpetuating spiral. I’ve gained around 4lbs just since last cycle, and am truly at my highest weight ever – and I know it’s not because of any medications. I say it doesn’t matter, that I’m okay with it, but you know that inside that just makes me feel more miserable, more inclined to giving in next time because “well it’s already gone this far.” And the stress, oh the stress! Just like stress doesn’t cause infertility, stress did not cause my current state of mind. My state of mind caused a great standstill and that has caused my current stress.

I feel incompetent, because I have been slacking and falling behind. For me – forever dealing with OCPD and depression – the feeling of falling behind is the most horrible thing ever. It’s why I gave up on my original healthy kick. It’s the fear that no matter how hard I try it will never be good enough – that no matter what I do now, the past has irrevocably ruined my chances to be on schedule again. Whether that’s time-wise, or organization-wise, or whatever schedule or order my brain has cooked up. And this constant struggle, to want to be better – no, to want to be perfect – and the overwhelming and constant feeling of failure leads to a hell of a lot of stress and unhappiness.

Which puts me at today. This book, for whatever reason, was a gentle slap on the cheek. It’s time to stop wallowing and start doing. It’s time to stand up and take control again. Maybe I can’t change the outcome of my cycles – but I can change me in the meantime.

I don’t have to live 20lbs overweight, I don’t have to live with the feeling of constantly being behind, and I certainly don’t have to live in a state of misery. Maybe I won’t lose those 20lbs before getting pregnant – maybe I won’t ever lose them. But I can put my feet on the right path and be proud of myself for it. I can never get myself “caught up” on everything I’ve ever fallen behind on. But this is not an exam. People are not watching me, taking score. I am not getting graded by how perfectly I accomplish everything. And I am certainly not gaining points by how MUCH I can accomplish. I am draining myself and for no good reason.

I need to set myself a plan of action, instead of waking up at 3am worrying about all those niggling things that “need to be done”. (That was last night.)

* Food. I’ve been thinking about food all day, even before I read the book. I read once that eating protein can help your eggs… and that caffeine can be not so good. I already drink no coffee or soda, but chocolate is my downfall. Cutting back on that could help my cycle… but it will definitely help my hips. So let’s edge back towards what I was attempting to do before: no fad diets, no radical changes. Stop eating the chocolate and the junk “comfort foods” and start fueling my body with good things.

* Organization and Procrastination. Oh these are my two arch-enemies. I want so so badly for everything to be organized it can literally hurt me inside when it’s so effed up around here. But here comes my good friend Procrastination, egged on by a good helping of Holy Fuck I’ll Never Fix This. I need to start tackling small chunks and telling Procrastination to bother someone else. Oh, FlyLady…

* Work projects. Let’s make a list (started that today) and just get them done. No more “extra” projects after I complete my current ones. I do enjoy doing them, but I need to focus on my business right now, and I need to simplify. And I need to keep one very very important thing in mind: how important really is this project/call/email? Is it important enough to intrude on my peace of mind? Is it as important as my IVF, my home, my family? No. So let it go. I’m going to set up a schedule, and I need to start leaving my work concerns behind at “work”, even if “work” may be right here on my laptop. There is a time for work, and there is a time for me – and for my own sanity I need to draw a line between them and stop letting it all bleed over.

* Mind myself. As I have mentioned before, I need to give myself more attention, more time. Whether it is scrapbooking that I am “behind” on (see above), knitting, my own website and pet projects (note that baby blogo falls under a pet project, not a work project – it’s actually fun and fulfilling my own needs and desires, not someone else’s) or reading, I need to schedule time for myself. And this is not time to stress out. This is time to unwind, to be at peace. Time to rebuild myself. Retreating to bed and being miserable is not rebuilding myself. At least not the way I’ve been doing it. I needed time to grieve – but I should have given myself equal time to redirect myself. I didn’t.

Life shouldn’t be a constant struggle… struggle with deadlines, projects, organization, emotions. After so much of it I can’t keep it up. It’s time to de-clutter my life, re-focus on my priorities, and remind myself that I am in control of myself.

There’s a chance all this resolve won’t survive until morning. But there’s a chance it will. In the morning I go to work, and hopefully I do it with a much better sense of clarity.

My period hasn’t started yet, which is a bummer, but she is on her way. I’m feeling all kinds of cramps and heaviness and a slight bit of nausea as well. AF while after the pill sure is weird, isn’t it. In my normal cycles I don’t get near as much fore-warning.

Today I am having a major anxiety attack over some work-related things. I took a nap and woke up in full-blown anxiety attack. Lovely, no? Just what I wanted.

I don’t know how many of you are water babies such as myself, but to me the pool is a place of great comfort and relaxation. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t absolutely love the water. I know such a time existed, as I have the proof: photos of “mommy and me” swim classes when I was under a year old… photos in which I am screaming my poor baby head off. (It was so bad, allegedly, that my dad had to leave and not watch.) But obviously something clicked right since after that they had to drag me out of any pool.

Den spent the day at a charity golf tournament, and I went over to our friends’ house. They had a broken computer, and of course they have a lovely, heated in-ground pool. (It was only 82 degrees in the pool today. The shame!) So all day I alternated between attempting to fix their computer, piddle-assing around on my own laptop on projects, floating in the pool, and laying in the sun. I think it was one of the best things I could have done right now.

There is just nothing better than laying half on an inner tube, floating carelessly in a pool with your legs in the nice cool water, kicking lazily. Or diving under the surface to swim along the bottom. I LOVE that feeling. I love having water all around me. I love feeling the water slide between my fingers and toes as I swim. I love how all sound gets muffled, and the sunshine reflects off the ripples on the surface and dances along the bottom. It is just… sigh… perfection.

Laying in the sun was also nice and relaxing, much to my surprize. I’ve never, ever been a “sun worshipper” – I think mainly because my skin is so pale that I burn before you could sneeze. So all my life that lovely sun-on-your-skin warmth has always been the signal for Shit! Shit! Get into the shade! But today I slathered on the SPF 55 and just layed there to enjoy it a little bit. And it was nice. I think I’ve gone a little batty being inside all the time, and my body needs a little vitamin C. Sunlight is just so lovely.

I didn’t spend very long in the sun (when it got too warm I’d move into the shade to play with my laptop), and I re-applied the sunscreen, but apparently I didn’t too such a great job on the re-application. My shoulders and face are fine. My arms however… red streaky patches. Oh yeah. So sexy. But the good news is that I actually have a bit of a tan on my stomach, legs, and arms. Who knew it was even possible??

It really made me realize that I need to get out of the house and actually find some way to unwind myself. I like to think retiring to the bedroom with my laptop is unwinding, but there’s only so much relaxing one can do while still tethered to the object you do work on. It’s one of the hardest parts of being a computer freelancer. I was thinking maybe I should spend some time on weekends working on some scrapbooks or something. Something not computer related at the very least.

However that is going to have to start next weekend because tomorrow I unfortunately have work to get done. Hopefully I can clear a little bit off my plate and open up my weekends for myself again. My wouldn’t that be nice.

Me: “One of my friends just got pregnant. You know, one of the girls I went out to dinner with months ago.”

Den: “Oh, cool. From IUI?”

Me: “No… sex. You know… the old-fashioned way.”

:: ::

I was talking with a friend today here by the pool and the topic of sex came up. I mentioned how right now Den is lucky to get sex once a month. The comment has stuck with me all afternoon. It’s weird when you get to a juncture that sex doesn’t even come into the baby-making equation, much less be the central feature.

I have had this blog window open for a couple of hours now. I feel like I should post something, but I can’t seem to form anything into words or sentences or even full thoughts. A lot of emotions right now. Mostly frustration. And anger. Same old shit.

I hate how IF makes you feel… makes you question everything you are and everything you thought you were going to be. It makes you break it down. How badly do you want kids? How much are ou willing to endure? How much are you willing to pay?

I hate how unfair it all is. There is no rhyme or reason… in fact I’m convinced IFers are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. A girl on a forum pointed out that this is where a lot of the anger comes from… not jealousy, per say. Not that we think our friends shouldn’t have babies and be happy themselves… but wondering why it’s so unfair, wondering why it couldn’t be so easy for us too.

I hate waiting. I am not a patient person. The first time I do something it is novel. After that it becomes extremely irritating.

I hate how angry and quick-tempered I’ve gotten. I feel so distracted and busy all the time and some days I look at my dear, sweet little dog and apologise to her for being a bad furmama. I’m not the person I want to be.

I hate that I put my life on hold over and over again because you don’t know what next month will bring. And it’s like a 50-50 chance. Just planning our little anniversary get-away has turned out to be a cause of stress because it’s managed to fall directly during retrieval and/or transfer. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to give a “maybe” RSVP to something because I didn’t know if I was going going to be having a proceedure done that day or not.

And to really rub things in today, as if I don’t have enough to deal with… I feel like I got bit by a humongous mosquito (which is very likely, as they are swarming our woods out back, yuck) on my behind. I just asked Den to take a look at it and he informed me that both of my big, painful “bites” on my ass are zits. Why thank you SO much. As if having them on my face and back isn’t enough to deal with.

Today was my first no-BCP day. I expect AF to hit on Sunday. Which had me rather concerned, with timing being as important as it is this month to hopefully avoid driving 2 hours each way to have a proceedure done while we are in Boston. I realized late last night that if I got my period this weekend and called to let them know, they wouldn’t return my call until Monday and the soonest I could get my baseline would be Tuesday, delaying things. I – of course – stressed over it.

So today, on the advice of a forum buddy, I called the IVF nurses to explain my concern. I did a piss-poor job of it, too; after I hung up I stared at the cat that had settled on my lap during the call and said, “WTF? I didn’t make any sense at all, did I.” (The cat declined to answer.) I really expected a call back of, “Ummm… what?” Instead, much to my surprize and delight, the IVF nurse called me later and said right off the bat that what we’ll do is if my period arrives on saturday I’ll come in sunday for my baseline; if it arrives sunday I’m to come in monday. Simple as that! Can I just say how much I love the IVF nurses? They are on top of everything, super helpful, and so very nice.

Of course now I’m worried that AF will take a detour and not show up this weekend. I’ll be pissed.

The heat is killing me. We finally put our A/C units in, thank the light, but unfortunately they’re only in the bedrooms. Which means my entire office, the main TV, and the kitchen is a melting pot right now. I dislike melting, just so you know. So all my stuff has temporarily booked into the bedroom, including the DVR cable box and of course my laptop. This is now my office. At least I am comfortable.

Injections have been going just fine. I like the lupron-only injections… they’re such a tiny little prick and no stinging. Don’t even need ice for them. Though what is both sweet and annoying is that every time he does it, Den says, “Did you feel that? I’m sorry! I don’t think that went in well…” The annoying part is that he says all this while staring at me while the needle is in me. I quickly reassure him that it’s fine, I didn’t feel a thing, but what I want to do is say, “OMG just finish the injection, you moron!” So far I have remained nice. I may have to politely tell him tomorrow to refrain from comments until after he is done.

Tomorrow is my last birth control pill. I am hoping that my period arrives saturday and doesn’t wait 3 days like last time. I want to get this show on the road, no dawdling… I want to make sure my retrieval does not fall during our mini-vacation. (I have had a few thoughts of not taking my last BCP in order to coax AF out early, but I decided against it just because I have no idea if AF is going to take 3 days again, or if it will show up the very next day.)

I have had far too much on my mind lately, between work and clients and that stupid-ass broken washer (drum is cracked and needs to be replaced, won’t be done until next week at the earliest – lovely yes?) I haven’t had a lot of time to think about this cycle. Which is fine I guess. But I could use a weekend of sleeping in or something.

Speaking of sleep I’d better get some or I am sorely going to regret it tomorrow.

Sooo, apparently I applied sunscreen really really well to 95% of my body. My shoulders are only just barely red (for me that’s a resounding success – super fair skin means that even with SPF 55 I’ll still burn) and my face actually doesn’t look bad at all! Unfortunatley I forgot the backs of my knees. :( I didn’t even notice a thing until we left the park entirely, then the back of my legs started getting itchy and I realized… oops… bright red spots. Well then. That was rather stupid of me.

The weather was gorgeous today… and warm. Very very warm. Mid-80s, I think. I had to keep paying the park’s extortionist prices for a bottle of water or poweraid or cup of soda, I felt so thirsty all day! But not really very hungry. Which is probably a good thing.

We did a lot of walking of the park, and rode all the big coasters at least once – our favorites (Superman and Batman) multiple times. It was a great time! We got a tiny bit snippy with each other a couple of times (like the time he was trying to yank down his restraint before the guy came by, and ended up elbowing me in the arm three times before I snarked loudly at him), but we had a great time together. We stayed past when he wanted to leave, but I was desperately trying to cram in all the fun I could into our one day at the park. We even went on the silly kiddy rides that I love, like the big swing and the scrambler. Silly? Sure. Did I enjoy it? Absolutely!

What I did not enjoy: all the freakin kids in the park. While I am really hoping for a baby of my own soon, most of the time other peoples kids tick me the heck off. Especially the ones running around the park being dumbasses. (I’m talking teenagers here.) Oh wouldn’t you just love to smack them sometimes and tell them to stop horsing around and acting like idiots? I sure would.

Another annoyance Den and I both muttered about: people pushing strollers. Surprizingly this had nothing to do with the fact that babies were involved, and everything to do with the fact that the people in the park today pushing strollers seemed to feel it was their devine right to walk wherever they wanted without looking where they were going. I cannot tell you the number of times we had to jump out of the way as some stroller-pushing spaceball careened right into where we were, because they were gawking at something or another. Just watch where you’re going – that’s all we ask!

The Six Flags has a whole new part of the park (Wiggles World – I don’t even know what the Wiggles are) just for little kids, in addition to the old kids part. We were watching some of the kiddie rides go and sighing about how fun it would be to bring our kids there. Granted little kids make it far more difficult to go on any of the fun adult rides, but how great would it be to watch your kid enjoy a “balloon” ride (that doesn’t go more than 3 feet off the ground)? Sigh.

At the end of the day we were feeling worn down and taking a break before hitting our last ride of the night. We walked up the main street and felt sorry for the poor smucks who have to stand there all day trying to tempt people into playing one of those stupid games that you lose money at. Well we went from booth to booth just shaking our heads until we hit a booth that was full of humongous stuffed kitty cats – panthers, tigers, jaguars. I collect stuffed cats. I have a large collection. And those big huge cats really caught my eye. Furthermore, the game was throwing a baseball at a stack of blocks.

Did I mention here that my husband played baseball for years and years? And he pitched? Granted he hasn’t played at all this year and he has bad shoulders, but if anyone could manage to win, he could. So I hinted to him that maybe we could afford him to try. He said he’d probably miss the blocks entirely and make a fool of himself. (I contend that he could not possibly make a better fool of himself than the large man who not only missed everything, but threw the ball like a 9 year old girl. It was really quite sad.) So we sat in silence for a moment. Then Den said he’d give it two tries, but that was it. (It cost $2 per throw.)

So he goes up there and pays, gets a ball. I’m holding the $2 for the next throw. I back up to give him space for his pitch. And before I really notice him throwing I see the ball crashing into the blocks. The bottom two went flying, but the third one dropped onto the table. I thought for sure it was going to just stay there, like we expected… but it rolled off! The girl starts ringing a cow bell and asks which prize he wanted. Den was giddy he actually did it; I was giddy that I got a huge cat! I will post photos tomorrow. It’s seriously huge and so awesome. :D He’s never won me anything before! (Never tried!)

I guess today really was what I needed. :) I’ll be itchy and sore tomorrow both from the localized sunburn and my very aching feet, but damn did it feel good to leave my cellphone at home, and my laptop, and not have to work all day. I did go into the cat sanctuary this morning to pick up and unload the order we got today, and had to deal with a minor situation regarding it (irritating I tell ya), but it was almost a whole day off.

In cycle news, today was my first lupron shot. I just don’t even know how I feel about that. So many things. Certainly only the tiniest, tiniest little sliver of excitement that I had the last time around… if it’s there at all. I honestly nearly forgot about the lupron shot today. The thought surfaced in my memory a couple of times today – not every five minutes.

The difference a cycle makes:

First cycle lupron shot: 8:45. 8:50. “Okay, I think I have everything ready. Let me check and count again. Okay. Right. So you pull back to the 10 unit mark… 10 units right? That’s what it says on my sheet. Double-check with the prescription… yeah, 10 units. Okay. So the needle… it’s this needle here.” Double-checks needle list and compares with instructions for lupron. “I think you pull back to the 10 unit mark before putting it in the vial. I better read the instructions for a third time. Just to make sure.” Reads instructions again. “Den, you have the vial? Right then. Roll it in your first.” He does. “Let me do it.” I do it too. “Okay, insert into rubber stopper on vial. Depress needle. Turn upside-down. Draw up 10 units. Yes. Shake the bubbles out. No let me do it, you’re doing it wrong. Seriously, Den!” Bickering ensues. “Nevermind then.” 8:57. 8:58. 8:59. Pinches my fat. “Okay go! No, wait a second.” Deep breath. “Let me count to 10. Okay, now.” … “It only hurt a little. No really. See? Not bad.” Den caps the syringe and ceremoniously drops it into the sharps box. We cheer and heave a sigh of relief. I go and write about the experience and mark it off in my little book.

Second cycle lupron shot: “Shit, it’s 9:30.” Grabs the vial and fishes a needle out of the big meds box. Draws up 10 units, gives it a flick. “Den you have a sec?” Walks over to Den, offer my stomach. “Right here.” Quick stab. “Thanks.” Tosses needle in sharps container and goes to eat dinner.

Oh my god, I almost forgot! Certainly the most unexpected part of my day today!

When I got home I had two voicemails. I thought for sure at least one of them would be either work or my client, but it was neither… it was the IVF pharmacy confirming our order and shipping. Last cycle we didn’t even ask what our total was before shipping; we knew insurance would cover all but a co-pay so we just had it shipped direct to us and found out from the receipts what we had paid via credit card. This time, since I never got around to finding out how much of our $1500 total we had left on our insurance, and sure it was going to be almost zilch, I asked that the pharmacy confirm the total with me before shipping so I could make sure the funds would be in the bank account one way or the other… or the total would go on Den’s credit card.

Unfortuantely they called today for shipping confirmation, and I was not here. (So they couldn’t ship it all. Doesn’t really matter to me, as I have enough lupron to last the cycle so I’m just waiting for my other meds I’ll need during stimming.) Then they got to our total… I kid you not, she said our co-pay was $93.98. :shock: I am stunned!! My first thought was that someone screwed up! But they must have confirmed with our insurance before getting a total… which means we will honestly have to pay only $93 for all our meds for our second cycle. Holy crap!! Between the truck tires that had to be replaced and Den’s significant dental bills and the upcoming IVF meds bill I was about ready to cry. This is such a huge relief, a crazy, unexpected, jump-for-joy relief! I have no idea how we managed to get all my meds under that limit, but thank you whoever wrangled that one… including the wonderful, amazing IVF nurses who have worked so hard to get us the cheapest options available to stay under our limits.

This will be our last insurance-covered cycle. They pay for 2 IVF cycles and that is it, total. Any FETs we do, or heaven forbid any more fresh cycles, will be completely out of pocket – and I have no idea how we’re going to pull that off. It puts a lot of pressure on this one cycle.

I have an interesting situation coming up. My mom is planning to come visit us in July, which I am very excited about! I am really hoping my dad comes too, but if he doesn’t… well. We’ll just have to make do. (I am worried about dealing with my mother alone for a whole week though. She and I tend to “clash” when living in the same space together. Needless to say we get along FAR better now that I’ve moved away.) Due to our anniversary vacation and Den’s business trip in August we only have a narrow window of 2 weeks in which she can come visit. Which week she comes will be dependent on her schedule as well.

The problem is that within those two weeks will be my beta. And all I can picture is finding out that our second IVF didn’t work and then having to deal with my mother when all I want to do is stay in bed and cry. Not that my mother doesn’t know what we’re going through – she’s honestly very supportive of us and would really try hard to comfort me. But generally that’s the problem: she tries too hard. And I’m the kind of person who will simply lock myself in a room and bawl for a few hours alone. Maybe she’d understand, maybe she wouldn’t… I don’t know.

So that shall be interesting. Hopefully she comes the first week… which should be right after our transfer (possibly during our transfer, but I am unconcerned about that), during our 2 week wait. That would be a very good way to keep my mind off of things.

In any case there is really not much I can do about it, I don’t know exactly which week my beta will fall so it’ll simply be luck of the draw.

Plans are still on for Six Flags tomorrow. I will be having a very good time not working.

My day took a somewhat turn for the worse.
“And then out of the corner of my eye I saw water creeping out from under the washer. ‘Water!’ I said. ‘Something’s leaking!!’ … Den tilted the machine back so I could see underneath… and sure enough water is pouring out from the bottom of the washer.”

The good news: Our brand new front loader washer and dryer arrived two days ago! They’re beautiful!

The bad news: Our washer is defective and flooded our kitchen.

More good news: Repairs/replacement is fully covered by warranty.

More bad news: The repair place isn’t even open until monday.

So. Yay?

Other than that I’m just glad it’s Friday. Of course I got a call from a client today saying that something still isn’t working and of course I need to fix it ASAP, plus I still have other projects that need to get done very soon, so I’m not really sure how much relaxation I’m going to get this weekend. But Monday we are going to Six Flags damnit. Come hell or, well, flooding already happened. But I am going to Six Flags and I am going to ride the coasters and I am not going to think about work or how I’m still not effing pregnant yet all day.

Or, I won’t think about it at least until I get home, when I need to take my first lupron shot. Somewhat exciting. Somewhat.

I mentioned in a previous post about how I’ve changed from “I’ll be pregnant soon” to “Not like I’m going to get pregnant anytime soon.” Along with that change in perspective has come another one:

Seeing pregnant people or women with small babies used to just make me sad in a wistful kind of way. Hearing about pregnancies and friends’ babies used to not bother me. Getting unexpected news was hard, but I could fully participate in the rest of it.

I no longer feel able to cope right now. I no longer just feel “sad” – I feel angry and empty. Instead of a warm wistful feeling when I pass by a pregnant woman in a store I get a very cold lump in my stomach. I actually feel myself emotionally shutting down inside. And, sadly enough, I feel like right now I’m just not really able to participate emotionally with my pregnant and parenting friends. I’m lurking, but sometimes even that I can’t do. Even fellow stirrup queens. And I know it’s normal, and I know it’s “okay” to have to withdraw for a little while. I don’t like feeling like this though.

I’m okay with the Baby Blogorama stuff though…. mainly because I feel like it’s a job, and I’m so focussed on the code and the lists and the data it’s okay. I put myself in working mode and it’s fine. I don’t have to emotionally connect. (I should emotionally connect, but I don’t have to, and right now I just can’t.)

Or maybe I’m just feeling extra cranky tonight.