<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866</id><updated>2012-01-30T17:19:36.038-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of an Infertile</title><subtitle type='html'>Just another infertile girl dealing with MF,cysts, and compromised egg quality at age 28.  Our first IVF w/ICSI crashed and burned with poor response and NO fertilization.  The second IVF w/ ICSI failed with low fertilization and slow embryo cell division.  What will we do next: another try, donor eggs, donor sperm or adoption from Ethiopia?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-7242504046293917767</id><published>2007-02-01T10:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T14:14:54.656-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to bed to start over... ***updated</title><content type='html'>I am having one of those days....  Yup, the crazy kind where I have way too much to do and not enough time with the heaping dose of added crap thrown in to make it even more interesting.  I wish I could go back to bed to start over again, but since I have not been sleeping well I fear that would just increase my already over the threshold anxiety level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the day so far (well just the annoying stuff)....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:50am - get up after a night of waking every 2 hours and then just falling into deep sleep at 4am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:10 - after letting dog and feeding him, attempt to make my coffee. The espresso machine didn't drain the water properly and I spill coffee ground sludge down my leg and on my foot. Wait - it gets better: look for coffee and realize that I don't have enough decaf illy to make my morning latte so I have to use the less expensive (and really nasty decaf espresso husband bought).  Perhaps I just should have bought coffee at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:15: Burn toast.  That nasty smell lingers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:00 Driving husband to the U and realize I forgot to put something in the mail that a person needs for the meeting I am hosting tomorrow. Argh - I will have to fax it or drop it off at my lunch hour.(Do people still fax things?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:10 Get to gym for morning workout.  Look feverishly through my bag for my iPod and realize I most definitely left it at the gym on Tuesday morning.  I remember setting it down by the free weights and thinking: "Don't forget it here" but I can not for the life of me remember picking it up as I hustled off to shower and get to work for my 9 am meeting.  I can not believe how stupid I am!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:20 Obsessing about lost iPod so badly I cannot work out so I shower and go to work early to research getting a new one.  I feel sick to my stomach and am so mad at myself. This is about as stupid as the time I left the digital camera on top of the car and did not realize it until we heard a loud thud on the freeway.  I just should have taken $200 out of the cash machine in singles and stood over an overpass and let it all fly off in to the wind - just as wasteful and a bit more satisfying.  Even better, I could have spend thousands of dollars on fertility drugs for treatments that didn't work - damn, that is too real to even be funny at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:00 Get to work and a due task pops up to tell me today is a grant deadline.  I programed this in months ago (luckily I almost finished it about 1 month ago) but I entered it incorrectly so the reminders all came due today rather than weekly like I though I had set.  How did I forget about this you ask?  I HAVE BEEN WAY TO BUSY LATELY!!! I guess I am working late AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:00 Chow down on valentine's candy hearts since I am so depressed about iPod and stressed about another deadline.  Hmmm....now I didn't workout and will most likely go over my calorie limit for the day.  Did I mention I need to loose 9 lbs in the next 2 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:15 While sitting at my desk with a burning foot I realize I may have picked up athlete's foot from the gym shower. no workout but still the joys of a nasty gym fungus - what a treat. I decide to head over to the pharmacy since I have to head that way to drop something off.  Stop in the bathroom and discover it is CD 1.  Why can't I get lucky one of these blasted months????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can it get worse?  Wait - don't answer that until you hear that I have this ultra important meeting tomorrow (can I trust our assistant to order breakfast or is it just easier to do it myself?) and then have to drive to WI for a weekend work related conference.  I don't even get to go home Friday night and relax.  Rather, I have to sit in a hotel room and stare at the TV becasue I have no iPod to bring along to listen to.  Whine, whine, cry , cry ; have you had enough of me today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***updated - it got worse&lt;br /&gt;1:18 here is the scenario: Clueless Co-worker shouts across the hallway for me to come over so another co-work can tell me her "good news".  Clueless co-worker then asks me, isn't that good news?  Perhaps she was being rhetorical, but that is certaily a loaded question.&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;On another note: if I have any lurkers can you let me know. No need to post, an e-mail will do.  I am making a blog change this weekend and I will notify the posters but I don't want to leave out any welcome lurkers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-7242504046293917767?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/7242504046293917767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=7242504046293917767' title='29 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/7242504046293917767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/7242504046293917767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2007/02/back-to-bed-to-start-over.html' title='Back to bed to start over... ***updated'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-677850337151109886</id><published>2007-01-18T12:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T12:27:13.399-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A non-story...</title><content type='html'>Bloggers come under A LOT of criticism for their writing. Not only is the subject manner constantly critiqued, but the style of prose is often blasted as being conversational and damaging to the preservation of the English language (wtf - are we now french?). While I disagree, partially in defense of myself and my blogger friends, my argument can be expanded. Don't worry, this rant has a point. I believe journalism is undergoing a sort of global and technological transformation. To be a journalist, you once had to work primarily for a form of print media and have some sort of a degree that validated your work. This work was circulated primarily to a subscribing audience often in a common geographical area or with a common interest. Since technology so greatly expanded forms of journalism and qualifications for journalists, I have seen print media struggling to keep pace. While I still subscribe to certain monthly publications, I often find myself noting that I could usually find similar articles online. Since I am old school and actually do like paper, I maintain my subscriptions so I can have something to flip through at the gym or before bed. Regarding newspapers I can not maintain a subscription. Our local subscription based newspapers in this state suck. Simply put, they are journalistic trash. I do read the Times online daily, but here is proof that poor journalism exists everywhere. Note: I did not link it because I have had some trouble linking from blogger to the Times website - sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only is this a worthless non-story, but what is the deal with the graphic. Is the woman supposed to be puking into her hand? How disgusting. What is going on with the whole hand connection between the mother and in-utero child anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/Ra-2qArgEUI/AAAAAAAAABU/RfHfJJ1I9MI/s1600-h/16real.190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/Ra-2qArgEUI/AAAAAAAAABU/RfHfJJ1I9MI/s320/16real.190.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021432942394609986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really?&lt;br /&gt;The Claim: Morning Sickness Is a Sign of a Healthy Pregnancy &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By ANAHAD O’CONNOR &lt;br /&gt;Published: January 16, 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE FACTS It may be among the most unpleasant aspects of pregnancy, but can morning sickness also indicate a lower risk of miscarriage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leif Parsons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Readers’ Opinions&lt;br /&gt;Forum: Parenting &lt;br /&gt;A widespread belief holds that morning sickness can be a sort of blessing in disguise, or at least a favorable sign. Many dismiss this notion as folklore, but studies suggest that the truth is not so clear-cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Studies have shown a lower rate of miscarriage among women with nausea and vomiting of any severity during pregnancy. The most recent, published in The International Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology in 2006, found that of 7,000 women studied, those who had nausea in the first three months were far less likely to miscarry. That appeared to support a study by the National Institutes of Health that found that women who had morning sickness in the first four months of pregnancy were 30 percent less likely to miscarry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reasons are unclear. Increased nausea and vomiting are associated with higher levels of a hormone produced by healthy placental tissue, and one theory suggests that the sickness may help women avoid foods that could harm a developing fetus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But many women have normal pregnancies with no morning sickness, and many miscarry without getting sick. And many studies have failed to find any relationship between morning sickness and other adverse outcomes, like stillbirth and birth defects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE BOTTOM LINE Morning sickness is associated with a lower rate of miscarriage, though it is not necessarily a sign of a healthy pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANAHAD O’CONNOR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scitimes@nytimes.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scitimes@nytimes.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-677850337151109886?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/677850337151109886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=677850337151109886' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/677850337151109886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/677850337151109886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2007/01/non-story.html' title='A non-story...'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/Ra-2qArgEUI/AAAAAAAAABU/RfHfJJ1I9MI/s72-c/16real.190.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-2533869338891966522</id><published>2007-01-16T13:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T15:53:31.357-06:00</updated><title type='text'>carmel and yogurt</title><content type='html'>Since I tend to avoid all things cliche I avoided talking about the new josie that was being launched in correlation with the new year for fear of it being considered, even just once, a new year's resolution rather than a mere act of coincidence of timing. Since a few weeks have passed and most people have given up on their desire to lose weight, quit smoking, or be nice to their mothers, I feel it is finally time to talk about my little commitment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, if you have noticed that I have been posting A LOT less lately don't be alarmed, I am still infertile and I still hate it. I have had plenty of material that leaves me saying I should post about that, but usually I forget until late at night and then I just want to sleep. Rather, I have been swamped at work with deadlines and projects that seem to be coming at me from everywhere. When I get home I am beat and I use all my energy to get myself to the gym or yoga. The man has been using the computer at home to get his dissertation proofed so he can turn it in for publication and our other computer, a laptop, needed a new battery. Since both of the above things have recently been taken care of, I will be making sometime to visit all of you and read about your interesting lives. Just because I have not been reading does not mean I have not been thinking of you. Who knows, perhaps I will also finally find time to switch my blog and update my blogs I read list since I only visit a few on the list to the right anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to Josie 2.0 - I am &lt;em&gt;trying&lt;/em&gt; so hard this year to do away with some of my negativity. I tend to resort to pessimism as a safety net that always keeps me in check. Don't worry, the sarcastic and realistic Josie has not been entirely done away with, but I am trying to - dare I say it - be more positive. What spurs this irrational change of reaction you ask? Well, I am partially inspired by Earl (From the TY show) and my new love for the yoga classes I have become addicted to. The Karma and Yoga balance each other nicely and I always get a little chuckle when The Man (DH) tells me to mind my carmel or asks if I am heading out to yogurt after work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to prove that I have not made a full transformation I need to add that if this approach does not work it is just another way to waste money since yoga classes are NOT cheap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-2533869338891966522?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/2533869338891966522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=2533869338891966522' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2533869338891966522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2533869338891966522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2007/01/carmel-and-yogurt.html' title='carmel and yogurt'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-4383113009965717939</id><published>2007-01-11T22:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T22:36:07.142-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A needle in the ....</title><content type='html'>Do you ever have one of those days that you get up when your alarm goes off, go downstairs and make coffee and then get back into bed for just a minute to cuddle the super cute dog and husband and then all of a sudden you wake up and the clock is telling you it is 8:30. It makes your heart beat in your throat just thinking about it, doesn't it. That was how my day started and I have yet to recover.  I did manage to shower, put some semi-matching clothes on, blow dry my hair, add a touch of make-up and still make it to work by 9:10.  Other than that, I have got little together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add to the chaos that my acupuncturist, who has all of a sudden become everyones acupuncturist, was booked until late next week when I called on Monday.  She is &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;really good&lt;/span&gt; and focuses on infertility and apparently there is a new batch of ladies all destined to go to acupuncture and get knocked up before me that are currently taking up all the appointments.  Me bitter? No, I am just not ready to share and also am a bit determined to do EVERYTHING right for this last IVF so I can not find any reason to play the "what if I..." game when it fails.  Sorry for the mini rant - I will continue.  Acu lady e-mailed me at 4 asking if I wanted to take her cancellation this evening at 7.  I was elated so I picked up dinner on the way home and headed over there all excited and thinking only about me.  Little did I remember that I told a certain someone that I would be home this evening if she needed to call after a potential turned to actual stressful appointment.  When I called after acu to tell the man I was heading to the gym he mentioned she called and she sounded down.  As soon as I got home, I checked out her site and realized why she may be a tad stressed.  Please visit dear &lt;a href="http://flotsamblog.com"&gt;Alexa&lt;/a&gt; and give her a little support - she needs it right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-4383113009965717939?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/4383113009965717939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=4383113009965717939' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/4383113009965717939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/4383113009965717939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2007/01/needle-in.html' title='A needle in the ....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-3310224710754730399</id><published>2007-01-09T20:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T20:35:44.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The period monster got me.</title><content type='html'>Yes, I am still alive, but it was a close call.  Here is a summary of my life since I posted last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deadline, family crap, deadline (with lots of procrastination lead up), headache inching in,family crap, spotting starts, board meeting, meet &lt;a href="http://flotsamblog.com"&gt;Alexa&lt;/a&gt; for drinks, really important meeting for director,  headache back and turning into a migraine, family crap, spotting continues, work extra late on a Friday, get takeout and fall asleep before eating entirely, wake up to the AF monster all over the bloody place, spend weekend mostly in bed with migraine and AF, work late, go the gym and step on scale that is up 5 pounds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That has been my life lately - aren't you jealous?  I can't believe it has been a whole week since I posted last but it has.  Sorry, I have not even had time to look at your blogs either.  "The man" is out rock climbing with friends so I am trying to at least use this short amount of time I have to write a legible post but the dog that I have also been ignoring is poking me in the back and squeaking his stuffed hedgehog in my lap (thanks again for that toy Pythia it is the love of his life and the hatred of mine - I am going to send Millie some catnip infused delight that will have her walking on your face all night).  Can a girl get a break?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much to tell you and so little concentration right now since all I can hear is squeak, squeak, ARGHHHHH!  Since I am being random I should mention that my meds came to AND I got a call to schedule my last IVF from my clinic.  The clinic really didn't call to schedule it because it will be scheduled around my period that comes in Feb to hopefully reduce the chance that I will grow a cyst.  The sweet nurse who called was just reminding me to call with my Feb AF - ahh, how sweet.  I actually think they are starting to read my mind since I have been obsessing over whether or not I should call them to make sure that they have a spot held for me even though I am not written on the IVF calendar because of my ability to bear cysts like everyone around me bears children.    When I joked to nice nurse about being crazy and obsessive and promising not to call them next week she joked and told me those were the qualities that make me loveable.    Personally, I think they are being nice to me since I brought them a huge plate of Christmas cookies and they want more of my baked goodies.  I may have forgotten to mention the whole cookie thing because at the time it seemed a little suck-up-ish even though I was really just trying to butter them up - literally. Sorry for the bad jokes but the squeaking is driving me mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a totally opposite random note.  I truly hate blogger beta and am contemplating a switch to wordpress.  I like the idea of being able to password protect some posts because I am kind of afraid of SIL finding my blog and the family turmoil that would ensue.  There are other reasons also, but I am not going to get into them because now. Don't worry, I will share the password with all of you if I do so.  I may work on the conversion this weekend unless the period monster comes back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-3310224710754730399?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/3310224710754730399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=3310224710754730399' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/3310224710754730399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/3310224710754730399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2007/01/period-monster-got-me.html' title='The period monster got me.'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-2402328957595486922</id><published>2007-01-01T10:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T10:25:18.274-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally some good news for infertiles</title><content type='html'>So I have been known to be a pop culture junkies at times.  Yes I know the words to a few too many Justin Timberlake and Spice Girls songs, but should I really be overly ashamed at my pop culture addiction?  Come on, I know you love pop culture also, unless you are my husband who is just too cool to admidt that he actually prefers drunk dancing to songs on the top ten list and will not allow me to acknockedge Britney Spears in our music library with a folder, well that is just too bad.  Don't fret, I created a folder anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I am actually at work today after 4 hours of sleep, multiple beverages last evening, and plenty of joist breaking dance moves, I decided to start my New Year's Day like I usually do: searching the internet for critism of last years pop culture scence, becasue you that is sooo last year now.  After getting my fill of celeb trash, if one can ever get their fill, I decided to try to be a bit more intellectual so I surfed on over to the &lt;a href="http://www.lssu.edu/banished/"&gt;Lake Superior State University List of Banished words for 2007&lt;/a&gt;.  I can assure you that you will be pleased at one of the phrases banned this year.  It is about have way down the list and I am not going to ruin it by telling you, you really must go check it our for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.................Now how do we enforce this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-2402328957595486922?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/2402328957595486922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=2402328957595486922' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2402328957595486922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2402328957595486922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2007/01/finally-some-good-news-for-infertiles.html' title='Finally some good news for infertiles'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-4336602986194630520</id><published>2006-12-31T14:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T14:58:52.907-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I am an elephant...</title><content type='html'>Did you know that a female elephant invests 4 years of her life in a single sperm?  It works out to be 4 years because she is pregnant for a whopping 22 months and then does not ovulate for another 2 years.  Don't you sometimes feel like an elephant, investing years of your life in a process that seems to take for freaking ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than spending my time lately thinking about elephant reproductive habits, which I must add was sparked by a program on National Geographic Channel, I have been thinking a lot about what Dr. Bowtie referred to as "getting lucky" in my last post.  Every infertile thinks about it and hopes that they will be &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;the one&lt;/span&gt; who can not get pregnant on the most aggressive fertility treatment protocol, but all of a sudden finds themselves with a positive pee stick either between treatments or after they have given up all hope. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that I have been guilty of this false hope.  Even now I hesitate to call it false hope because I may jinx myself out of possible good fortune.  I have been referred to as a cynic a few times and even good old Dr. Bowtie told me at my last appointment that I need to be at least a little positive while reassuring me that he does have success more often than not. So, even with my always plan for the worst case scenario mentality, why do I still remain the slightest bit hopeful that this process may one day work for us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, about 5 days before my period is about to start, looking for all the "signs".  We only mated (too much National Geographic channel) once with ovulation this time so with all our considerations there is realistically no chance it could work. But, there is still some part of my being that will not let me release hope.  I reassure myself by stating that if it does not work this month we have 3 more times before IVF to "get lucky".  This positiveness frightens me since it is truly quite uncharacteristic of my reproductive personality......or is it?  Don't we all have some fraction of hope that guides us through this process? Putting fear aside since it usually overshadows hope, if we did not have even the slightest amount of hope, why would we continue to put our self through this torturous process?  Even after the most heart breaking failure, we eventually can pick ourselves up and try again with some wisdom from the past experience, but also a "renewed" look to our current cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, although I may be an elephant in a temporal comparison, I am a human emotionally. Usually I cannot find my fraction of hope since I bury it with statistics and factors that are not favorable.  But hope is a persistent little bugger and it seems to get beaten down and then surface again when you least expect it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-4336602986194630520?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/4336602986194630520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=4336602986194630520' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/4336602986194630520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/4336602986194630520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-think-i-am-elephant.html' title='I think I am an elephant...'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-3512433171085029367</id><published>2006-12-29T20:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T20:58:30.916-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Problem Solved</title><content type='html'>First of all thanks for your quick call to arms.  Even if I kind of already knew what I was going to do, the reassurance helped a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what did I do you ask?  Well, I put my order in through Portland Pharmacy since their prices were the lowest for the drugs I needed.  Another reason why I love my clinic is their responsiveness. This morning after my appointment with Dr. Bowtie (more on that later) the nurse met with me to discuss the different pharmacies they like and their prices. I have a comparison spreadsheet if anyone is shopping for meds - let me know and I can send it to you. Within moments my order was faxed and a rep called.  That was about the quickest I spent 2,500 bucks.  I then went back to my office and called the insurance company and no one can still tell me why it is not covered this time, but after speaking with managers of managers I was assured it will not be covered.  Damn, insurance companies suck.  Since I work for a hospital, I got a great deal on the less expensive meds. I need to keep telling myself this because I am trying to find something positive in this whole f'in situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The appointment with Dr. Bowtie was fruitful, even though it was just &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;supposed to be&lt;/span&gt; a post-op.  I of course went in with my list of questions and he gave me his usual smirk when I asked if he was done with his portion of the appointment so I could proceed with my agenda. Since I "heart" lists here is a summary of the discussion because I know you are so incredibly interested..&lt;br /&gt;1.  My pubescent complexion, a.k.a. massive breakouts, are a result of the DHEA.  As are the mini pimples on my chest and in my head hair.  Now I am infertile and a zit machine.  The excitement never ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Dr. Bowtie does not want to talk about the next steps yet because he is "optimistic" about the next cycle.  I, being a realist, want to talk about next steps, but the discussion did not proceed in that direction.  I pushed and he told me he will meet my sister if he needs to but he is putting his energy into the April IVF.  I expressed my concern about how long it takes to get going on things and not wanting to wait to start something else after a possible 3rd failed IVF in April and he assured me that would not be an issue.  He did leak that we would have to meet with the Psychologist if there is any donor involvement. I will have to work on my "swallowing what I really want to say to that nasty lady" look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Since I am not only a zit machine but also a cyst machine, I was concerned about going on the pill before my IVF because that is usually when I grow those buggers.  Dr. Bowtie told me to call with my Feb period and we will align the start date with my cycle to reduce the likelihood of cyst.  He also told me he does not want me to start the pill too soon because we have a few months between now and then and we might as well try to "get lucky".  Bring on the OV predictors and timed intercourse - who said I am on a break until April now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  After making the "get lucky" comment he reviewed DH's SA results and apparently his numbers are so incredibly high but his morph, viability, and motility so incredibly low that if the right sperm found the right egg at exactly the right time we could &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;possibly&lt;/span&gt; get pregnant.  This is of course not taking into account my egg quality problem, but it gave me a little hope that maybe DH's swimmers are not totally worthless.  The problem is that there is no way to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Dr. Bowtie actually humored me when I said I want to work acupuncture into my protocol.  He said he is not opposed to the idea of acupuncture but does not have enough evidence to prove it does anything, but if I provide him with some studies he will write a note for me so my acupuncture treatments can be covered by my flexible spending account.  How rockin' is that.  I am currently putting together a "report" of journal articles and publications for him since I have his ear on this.  I, with the help of my o' so easily accessible and awesome acupuncturist, have dug up zillions of articles.  I will share the fun when my research is done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Oh the strange mystery pain was confirmed to be a kidney stone.  It was not a typical kidney stone, but rather one of the uric acid type for which I can thank my gout ridden father.  Geez, dad you shouldn't have.  Unfortunately since this type does not show up on scans because they do not contain calcium it is hard to tell if I have others.  Luckily I still have some percoset in case another one strikes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-3512433171085029367?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/3512433171085029367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=3512433171085029367' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/3512433171085029367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/3512433171085029367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/problem-solved.html' title='Problem Solved'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-2034460395073926435</id><published>2006-12-28T19:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T20:13:12.662-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Advice NEEDED!!!</title><content type='html'>For those of you who don't believe in superstition, you will be convinced after reading this post.  On our way home from the grocery store this evening, a black cat crossed the road ahead of us.  Since then, I managed to step in fresh (a.k.a. not frozen) dog poop and got a call from the pharmacy about my meds.  It has been 1 freaking hour! The poop needs no further explanation, but regarding the meds I need any advice you can throw my way.  Don't get the poop and advice confused because I don't want any shit thrown at me, I have enough in the treads of my tennis shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the situation:  My clinic faxed in my order of meds for my next IVF in April and it appears that my insurance coverage has "changed" a bit and rather than having a co-pay of 20% (which I would not have to pay since I have already met my out of pocket for this year), my co-pay is at @ 3,000.  YIKES!  I just got off the phone with the pharmacy I use, which happens to be part of the company I work for because that is the pharmacy my insurance company works with.  Now what do I do?  Here are my list of options so far...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Cancel the order and wait since I really don't need the meds until April anyway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Put the order through because if the transaction is made tomorrow I can claim the 3,000 on this years taxes as an additional deduction along with the cost of the IVF cost share.  I won't get much out of claiming it on next years taxes because the amount won't be great enough with the medical equation you have to do to really make much of a difference on taxes.  Also, if I put it through now it will be paid off by the time the IVF comes around and hopefully I will be less pissed that I am infertile.  Although this could be pointless because I have little faith in my IVF abilities at this point and will probably have to spend much more money next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Cancel the pharmacy order and put the order through at an online pharmacy that may offer better prices, although I don't know what the prices are and I don't know if this would be possible to do in the short amount of time left in this year to claim it on this years taxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Cancel the order and shop around for better prices and possible return options for unused meds.  This most likely will not happen this year and will be part of next years taxes, which could make a difference if this last IVF does not work and we have to move on to donor eggs.  Not only would we be spending more on another cost share, but also could use the left over drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;What I need to know from you is what to do? &lt;/span&gt; IS there another option that I have that I did not list above? I am leaning toward #2 right now, but only because I know very little about other pharmacy options.  Also, I need to call my insurance company and see what is up regarding the change, I am guessing that I have reached my 5,000 infertility limit and that is why they are no longer paying, but with meds for 2 cycles I would have thought that I should have reached that already.  I would love for this to be a mistake, but mistakes are not usually made in my favor.  Any advice you can offer is greatly appreciated!  I conveniently have a post-op appointment with Dr. Bowtie tomorrow at 9:30, so if I need a change made I should know by then since I will have his direct attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that I am pissed that I am infertile? I have so much negative energy right now that rather than research this I need to go to the gym and run off some of my anger or else I will not sleep again tonight.  I hope this is the remainder of the shit I have to deal with in 2006 rather than a taste of what 2007 is going to be like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-2034460395073926435?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/2034460395073926435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=2034460395073926435' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2034460395073926435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2034460395073926435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/advice-needed.html' title='Advice NEEDED!!!'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-2005119626158290268</id><published>2006-12-24T08:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T10:10:50.923-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dare I say it....</title><content type='html'>I am a bit leery about writing this post because as soon as I hit publish I know something drastically annoying is going to happen, but I am taking that risk. I may regret it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I have not been too keen on Christmas.  Now that Christmas is here, I must admit my gloom has lifted and my radio is tuned to the 24 hour Christmas song station and I even played a visit to iTunes and downloaded some of my favorites: WHAM! - Last Christmas, Mariah Carey - All I want for Christmas, yuletide Singers - Snoopy's Christmas, and Mormon Tabernacle Choir - Carol of the Bells, plus a few more...  It is a seasonal mix of trash and tradition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had my mom's side of the family celebration last night and I was SO dreading it.  For the first time is years it was "enjoyable."  When I say years I mean it. The last time I looked favorably on this event I was a child and my cousins and I played  Christmas records while waiting for Santa to drop off my our new Cabbage Patch Kids.  It probably helps that a few, well 14 people (only 2 families mind you - I grew up VERY Catholic), were not present.  This made the 7 young children that were present, 2 of which were babies, much more tolerable.  The adults actually stood a chance against them this year, usually the children have us waving white flags and begging them to go run in circles and scream elsewhere.  It probably also helps that I had a sufficient buzz on most of the evening and I found out my brother's serious girlfriend is only 22 so she will most likely not have children before me - or so I can hope.  Yes, they are not even married but I have to adequately prepare for my disappointment years in advance - it helps with the severity of the blow.  She is a very smart and sweet girl and I do hope that he doesn't do anything too stupid because she would be a nice addition to the family. Shit, I am starting to sound like my mother.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Holidays to you all ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RY6l1GRhd5I/AAAAAAAAABI/JkM9Th6rHWk/s1600-h/DSCN1648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RY6l1GRhd5I/AAAAAAAAABI/JkM9Th6rHWk/s320/DSCN1648.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012125766945699730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-2005119626158290268?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/2005119626158290268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=2005119626158290268' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2005119626158290268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2005119626158290268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/dare-i-say-it.html' title='Dare I say it....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RY6l1GRhd5I/AAAAAAAAABI/JkM9Th6rHWk/s72-c/DSCN1648.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-1150588633046864381</id><published>2006-12-21T19:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T22:28:12.372-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasonal Sadness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RYtazWRhd3I/AAAAAAAAAAw/-9QU7ACHbSA/s1600-h/DSCN1628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RYtazWRhd3I/AAAAAAAAAAw/-9QU7ACHbSA/s320/DSCN1628.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011198848578713458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I have not posted in a while. Most certainly not due to lack of material, but I have been swamped at work and at home. The surgery also knocked me down hard, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; hard.  Also taking up my time is the Christmas shopping, present wrapping, cookie baking/eating as you can here. I love spritz cookies and when I get sick of the cookie press I make my own shapes. Yes, those are feminine shaped spritz cookies.  Unfortunately I have no pictures of the male version.  I even used the blue food coloring so I could say I made blue balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know where the day has gone lately.  This will soon change – it seems like as soon as we flip the calendar to January 1 time slows drastically.  Then I will have time to update you on the horrendous comments made to me by the nurse at my urology appointment.  Of course they are related to infertility.  DH and I are still shaking our heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with my busy schedule, I still have gloom scheduled from wake till sleep. I go about my daily activities seasoned with a tablespoon too many of sadness.  I am busy nonetheless, but not content. The holiday time of year is always a challenge for me primarily due to my infertility but also because December 26th is 2 years since my miscarriage.  I can’t help but let my mind wander to where we would have been right now with a child that would just be starting to understand the concept of Santa, presents, and holiday clothes.  I posted the other day about avoiding malls for Christmas shopping and I guess I left out one of the main reasons we avoid malls this time of year: watching children waiting to sit on Santa’s lap.  It is a stupid thing and I probably will never take my child(ren) to a mall to sit on Santa’s lap, but I get so sad that I don’t even have the option. I think children are the happiness of the holiday season and since we have none in our family, we have little happiness this time of year. Last evening I was sitting by the Christmas tree "wishing".  I am not a religious person and have never been into prayer, but I just sat there staring into the lights "wishing" we had a little person to show the joy of the season. DH, noticing my contemplative state and being the smart lad he is, very quietly said: “2007 is going to be our year.”  I certainly hope he is correct. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise that I will find time to visit your blogs tomorrow and post.  I know I am not the only one suffering this time of year and for that I am sorry.  None of us should have to bear this burden &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;anytime&lt;/span&gt; of the year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-1150588633046864381?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/1150588633046864381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=1150588633046864381' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1150588633046864381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1150588633046864381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/seasonal-sadness.html' title='Seasonal Sadness'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RYtazWRhd3I/AAAAAAAAAAw/-9QU7ACHbSA/s72-c/DSCN1628.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-828213149340814503</id><published>2006-12-17T21:20:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T21:20:48.492-06:00</updated><title type='text'>4 effen years</title><content type='html'>Sometimes infertility just hits you head on and pins you to the ground screaming "uncle" so it will release it's breath crushing hold on you temporarily so just can just catch your breath.  Other times you are sitting at the computer reading an  &lt;a href="http://travel.nytimes.com/2006/12/15/travel/escapes/15Yoga.html"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; about the latest yuppie trend of combining yoga and wine tasting and you notice your face is raining on the keyboard and it is not because you are upset over what you are reading. Although....the tears could have been justified in this situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up until today I was having a delightful weekend.  I met another &lt;a href="http://flotsamblog.com"&gt;dear infertile&lt;/a&gt; for drinks and coffee on Friday.  I left feeling inspired, energized, and for once “not alone” in this big city of seemingly reproductively normal folks.  There was even talk of a infertile gathering……&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was a neutral wash of a day.  I had intended on taking mr. doggie to his daycare evaluation and then DH and I would head over to help my sister move. The move went as well as 7 solid hours with my parents could ever be.  In that short amount of time they have once again given us a lifetime of conversation topics that leave us shaking our heads and wondering who my real parents are. Matisse got to help because the evaluation never happened. (Un)fortunately Mr. Toots has not been vaccinated for kennel cough and apparently it can run wild where dogs come together for playtime.  I am a bit leery about additional vaccinations for my pooch, but I will most likely read about the horrors on the internet and then give in so he doesn’t have to stay home when DH is gone for extended meetings or we have some lengthy “dog-free” commitment.  Imagine that, a spoiled dog alone sitting on his chair, blanketed by his down comforter, in his purple painted bedroom, watching Anim.al Pla.net for 8 hours – I fully recognize I need a child, err, I mean help. Actually, I need both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when a fellow elevator rider asks me tomorrow about my weekend I can honestly reply that I can file it under “g” for good. What do I have to complain about….. my weekend was not that bad compared to some of you hit by the early onslaught of holiday family cheer or the stroller pushing mall goers trying to finish up their final purchases for their herd of spoiled brats that they did not have to take out a second mortgage to create.  I even got to participate in “feel good” activities like return a lost pet to her owner on a day that happened to be his daughter’s b-day.  I should be happy as can be, but instead I am not.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know how to explain how I am feeling right now.  For starters, I am worried about my enlarged ureter and the long wait till I see the specialist on the 23rd of Jan.  Also, I am eager to get the holiday season over so I can throw away all the cookies that I continue to eat and actually try to loose my last 10lbs. Finally, I am not looking forwards to spending saturday with my 16 cousins, their countless children, and all my mousy and sub-servant aunts. Although, it is really not the holiday season that is to blame for my flat mood.  The real culprit is my ongoing struggle with infertility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While scanning the online site our friends set up to share photos of their newborn (Friday) daughter I started bawling.  Do you realize that if we miraculously got pg this month it would be 4 years since we started trying at the time our miracle child would be born.  4 Effen years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 Effen years means lots of heartache, many failed procedures, countless dollars wasted, and 4 years of my life that I will never get back. Friends have gotten married and had children in that time.  I said children – not one but, multiple children.  Friendships have been lost through our struggle and our marriage has been tested.  At what point do we just walk away, move onto the next thing, and actually start making progress towards a family where the child does not have fur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that we are stuck.  Currently we are waiting to do our final cost share IVF after I take DHEA for 4 months.  So, that puts us out into April.  We could start our adoption stuff right now so as soon as IVF #3 fails we could do our home study and get a referral.  BUT, we are fortunate to have a 22-year-old egg donor who is willing now, but may not be so willing in a few years when we are ready to pursue her eggs again and have the adoption paid down.  Follow that?  Add to the mix that Dr. Bowtie is really close to letting us do the donor cost share at our clinic with her, even though they have no official donor cost share program. Once I hook him I need to move fast – he is at the advanced part of his career and who knows if he will still be devoting his life to infertile me when he could easily just walk away.  So really, we are not stuck, but I don’t like my options.   Time just seems to be moving slowly and leaving me behind. Next year I fear I will be in the same place with a different set of circumstances writing a post titled 5 effen years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-828213149340814503?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/828213149340814503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=828213149340814503' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/828213149340814503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/828213149340814503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/4-effen-years.html' title='4 effen years'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-1589069004514106610</id><published>2006-12-14T20:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T21:44:33.859-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas shopping on perc0set</title><content type='html'>I again am breaking my promise of not blogging on perc0set, for this I apologize.  At least I stopped commenting on YOUR blogs after &lt;a href="http://tko.typepad.com"&gt;DD&lt;/a&gt; sent me a copy of the incoherent message I left for her.  The funny thing is that I remember writing that message and I remember it making sense, but it was just plain wacky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I did not expect to need the pain pills because I really did not expect to be in this much pain.  I had a lap before and I don't remember the whole not being able to bend at the waist thing I have going on this time.  My belly is also sticking out so far and I have been holding it to suppress the pain.  Ironically, I look like a pregnant woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also did not plan on taking today off from work, so I did not cancel my afternoon meeting.  Since the meeting was downtown and I could not drive, DH escorted me and after picking me up we started and completed most of our Christmas shopping. I owe this mainly to the perc0set I popped right before walking into Macy's. Some of the things we are gifting include 2 Cuisinart ice cream makers, a kitchen aid mixer, misc. stocking stuffers and a beautiful designer leather briefcase for me. DH is such a sucker for a wife with a beautiful bag.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a Christmas shopping rule: no malls.  We can buy gifts on-line, at boutiques, or downtown.  The simple food or alcohol gift is also an option.  After being thoroughly disgusted a few years back while Christmas shopping at the MOA (Mall of America for you out of towners) we devised this plan and have stuck to it.  I also get a little depressed while Christmas shopping.  As adults with really no little ones to buy for the season just doesn't seem the same. I don't really buy into the whole commercialism of the holidays.  In fact on Black Friday DH and I make an effort to purchase NOTHING as our way of sticking it to capitalism.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it was the perc0set, but this year I had a fabulous idea.  I always want to purchase something for our not yet conceived child, but I feel a bit funny doing so. I don't want to jinx myself and it seems kind of stupid because there are plenty of real, live children in this world who I could just go any buy toys for.  As I was walking by the book store I got the idea: I would start a book collection for our child and write a dear message to them on the inside cover letting them know that we are still longing for them and that we bought them this little present because we are confident they will someday enjoy sitting down to a story.  The book I bought this evening was one of my husband’s childhood favorites: Blueberries for Sal, by Robert McCloskey.  When we got home, I put it on the shelf next to the book I bought in Paris a few years back when we first decided to have a child.  That book is: The Little Prince, by Antoine De Saint-Exupery.  They seem so juxtaposed leaning on each other.  One was purchased when we were excited about having a child and were innocent to the pain of infertility.  The other was purchased out a strong wont and burning desire to be a parent that was groomed by struggling with infertility for over 3 years.  I know I will share these books with my child someday  - they will always mean more to me than a story.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I will not have to add many more books to my collection.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-1589069004514106610?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/1589069004514106610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=1589069004514106610' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1589069004514106610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1589069004514106610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmas-shopping-on-perc0set.html' title='Christmas shopping on perc0set'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-1115497077863840437</id><published>2006-12-13T20:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T21:17:58.640-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can anything be easy?</title><content type='html'>So I had the lap today.  This was my second lap and you can probably tell by my lack of blogging about it that I was not really worried or concerned. I have a high pain threshold and pain pill work wonders for me.  Also, with all the shit IVF has thrown my way I am no longer surprised by ANYTHING.  He could have woken me up and told me the DHEA he has me taking turned me into a man down there and I would have said, huh, go figures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that said, here are a few reflections of my fun procedure today.  Sorry about the list format, but I am still taking percoset and I cannot write legibly.  I have been visiting some of your blogs today and commenting and I truly apologize if I said something stupider than normal.  Anyway, in no particular order.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  No endo.  Zippo, Zappa, Zilch.  Dr. Bowtie is REALLY frustrated.  He did say that mystery pain that is not endo is at least good news.  Now for the mystery pain......read on dear friend.&lt;br /&gt;2.  The mass is not threatening and did not currently have any cysts growing on it.  &lt;br /&gt;3.  My ovaries look healthy and plump -seriously, WTF!&lt;br /&gt;4.  They would not let me leave the hospital until I peed today.  My procedure was at 9 and ended at 10 and I left at 3:30.  I could not pee.  I drank 2 ginger ales, 2 waters, coffee, and chewed on ice chips.   I sat on the bowl and walked to the private bathroom 5 times and turned on the faucet for inspiration.  Nothing, not even a trickle. Finally as they were paging Dr. Bowtie I mustered up a slight stream.  Boy that felt good. I was dressed and fighting the urge to pull out my IV so I could get out of there ASAP.&lt;br /&gt;5.  I was probably not peeing because I was so dehydrated as was evident by the reaction I got when I ate on of the those yummy vanilla wafers they give you after surgery.  Yummy no more - one bite and that cookie turned to sawdust in my mouth. I spit it out so fast. But, that damn cookie just stuck to my throat and cheeks that I had to flush my finger around my mouth to remove every remnant of it.  Everything I ate today left me SO thirsty.  All I wanted was a Coke.  Real, classic, cold coke.  I have had two at a charge of 280 calories since I got home and I am about to crack open a third.   I LOVE that stuff. Hopefully the percoset will counter the caffeine. &lt;br /&gt;6.  All week I have been dealing wit the period tease.  Since a week ago it would come on a bit heavy (not tampon heavy) and then leave.  You could call it heavy spotting. Yesterday there was almost nothing, so I got up this morning and put on my surgery panties (granny panties) and went to the hospital.  Wouldn't you know that tease turned on the spigot as I was walking in the door.  I bee lined for the bathroom and it was everywhere.  I must be back to my 10 day period cycle - spotting for 5 -7 days before the real deal.  Seriously annoying.&lt;br /&gt;7.  Oh remember that mystery pain mentioned in #1.  Well, since there is NO endo, Dr. Bowtie looked around in there for me.  He even took a few extra pictures - o.k. 8 extra pictures- because he knows I am insane and he wants to stay one step ahead of the game.  Smart man.  Anyway, it appears I have a very active ureter on my right side and that may be causing the pain.  It is enlarged on the pics so he wants me to see an urologist.  I can't believe my f'in body!  I of course googled this in my demerol and percoset haze and the 2 things that are most prominent are cancer and calcification.  I am done with Dr. Google on this subject and am going to put it out of my mind until the urologist appointment.  He didn't seem too concerned with DH, but unless I hear something is ok from Dr. Bowtie I reserve the right to jump to conclusions and get all crazy if need be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than these few inconveniences (I am ignoring # 7 at this time) the day was really not bad.  I know I have said this before, but Dr. Bowtie is amazing and he has a great sense of humor.  He came into the room from visiting with DH to again tell me how dapper DH is.  He then informed me his resident would be doing my surgery.  His resident then piped up to tell me his hand usually stops shaking and displayed the shake for me.  I looked at Dr. Bowtie and he had the funniest smirk on his face as he assured me the resident would be watching HIM do the surgery.  They kind of had me for a minute and I appreciated the laugh.  Don't worry - I will get him back - ideas welcome. I just need something that is more funny than serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I laughed wit Dr. Bowtie about the side affects of DHEA that I blogged about earlier.  HE chuckled and told me he hasn't seen to many whiskers on another patient.  The study didn't work for her, but he thinks her problem is "different".  I reassured him that if this doesn't work he can meet my sister, you know the egg donor I am trying to convince him to let us on their non-existent donor cost share program.  He said I am one determined woman (I do mention this to him EVERY time I see him) and he thought that is could work.  My persistence is paying off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-1115497077863840437?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/1115497077863840437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=1115497077863840437' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1115497077863840437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1115497077863840437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/can-anything-be-easy.html' title='Can anything be easy?'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-8835838287365931860</id><published>2006-12-12T20:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T21:39:33.696-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can we just move away...far away?</title><content type='html'>You know how sometimes all you need is a good friend?  Do you ever have that burning feeling that you need to call someone and tell them something that is making you want to pull your hair out and that person always reacts with a suitable response that reinforces why you love them so?  I am fortunate to have a few good friends like that in my life and luckily one of them was there to answer the phone last night or I would have been writing a really angry post that I would probably regret at some point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****Please let me warn you - this post is random and may come across as lacking of information.  Please keeping mid that there is a lot of history that got us to this point and I am still fuming but I just need to get this posted an hopefull off my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you are dying to know what angered me so.  There are many more details than I can bore you with in a post so I will summarize: basically I realized that SIL is selfish and can't truly give us the empathy and support we need with our IF because she is bitter that she is single and w/o the prospect of having children of her own.  Now obviously she did not come out and tell me this, but last nights conversation tied up many loose threads that I finally put together.  The most hurtful thing that she said is regarding this stupid competition she wages with everyone.  If someone in her life has something that she does not she spites them. In fact, if someone even has the prospect of something she wants she spites them.  For example, after our failed IVF # 1 and #2 she would always say to us that we are young and we can just take some time off and aren't we lucky that we don't have to make any decisions immediately because we are so young.  These comments pissed me off enough at the time because she OBVIOULSLY does not understand that timing and waiting are incredibly frustrating when going through IF. Also, she spews assvice and I just want to tell her to shut up but don't for fear of upsetting the family balance.  Those days are long gone now.  Regarding her time off comment, you can almost imagine how hurt DH and I were when we realized that she was making this comment because she spites us for being young when she is 36 and is feeling the pressure of her biological clock.  Also, if we wait the chance of her having a baby before us are greater and then she will still be one step ahead of the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, now if that is not insulting, try this.  She had to take the day off on Monday because she was upset about "things".   Her comment to me was: "well if I would have a desk job (like you) I could have gone to work today and zoned out but because I am a teacher and I have to be "on" the whole time I just could not do it."  If she were here in person I would have smacked the shit out of her.  Yes, I do have a desk job, but I too have meetings and goals and deadlines.  She thinks that just because she is a teacher she works harder than everyone else and doesn't get paid enough.  Last I checked she makes more than me and gets a break at summer, the holidays and in the spring.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should also mention that she made some comment a few weeks back about it being such a shame that we so not have some left over embies that she could use to have a baby.  I kind of thought she was kidding, but after some of the things she said last night I am realizing that she now knows the likelihood of that ever happening is slim since we barely even make it to transfer with IVF.  So her little "plan" has fallen through and now she has to plan other ways to have a child.  I am pissed that she seriously thought this was going to work.  Perhaps she should have checked with us first. Last I checked when DH and filled out all the paperwork of what to do with our left over embies she was NOT in the picture.  So wrapping this up for you, she is now upset about our lack of success with IVF because it means she may not be able to use us to have her baby.  Follow me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many other things that I could mention here, but they may just come across as very petty and require lots of explanation that would drive you crazy.  I don't even know what to do about her, but one thing is for certain: she is no longer in the loop regarding our infertility.  Even DH agreed to that one and not only is he disgusted with her behavior, but he is hurt.  He has been noticing this change in her also and he is even willing to "take it to the parents."  This is a hard situation because she has such a jaded view of everything that she seriously would not get it if we tried to talk to her about it.  Also the waterworks that we would all have to deal with would make me absolutely insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess then, DH and I decided that distance from her is the best plan.  Believe me, after 10 years with DH and his constant effort to defend her craziness, this is absolutely progress.  Perhaps it just took him that long to make the painful realization of who she really is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-8835838287365931860?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/8835838287365931860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=8835838287365931860' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/8835838287365931860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/8835838287365931860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/can-we-just-move-awayfar-away.html' title='Can we just move away...far away?'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-8837279936904817716</id><published>2006-12-08T22:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-09T16:46:07.107-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Idle Conversation</title><content type='html'>Friday after work I ran into someone I know at the grocery store.  She has an 8 month old daughter and always tries to make me feel better about being infertile by pretending she envies our freedom.  She asked "What do 2 young, childless people do on a Friday night?  Please tell so I can live through you because I will be stuck at home."  I should have lied and told her we chartering our own plane and flying to New York for dinner and a show. She probably would have believed it. In hindsight it seems like a good response because I left insulted as being referred to as childless, and when I am insulted I usually insert sarcasm.  I am infertile and in the pursuit of a child not choosing to live child free. She is REALLY stupid.  When I told her we had no plans she looked a little deflated and then perked up to chatter that she wished us a happy holiday while bobbing her head from side to side.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then started thinking about what we actually do most weekend evenings.  Pretty much our Friday night fun consists of watching really bad TV and idle conversation.  Last night consisted of extraordinarily juicy converstion - it went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DH:  Why is the dog wearing a scarf?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josie: Because he is cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DH: I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josie: I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DH: Do you think a scarf around his neck is going to make him warmer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josie: I don't know, ask him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matisse (dog): sign&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that was not riveting, it got better ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.......While watching VanHelsing (seriously the ONLY thing on)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josie: How come the guy who turns from a Werewolf to man and back to Werewolf destroys his clothes in the violent transformation from man to beast and then when the moon is covered and he turns into a man again, he is wearing the same clothes as before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DH: Good question.  It is kind of like the Incredible Hulk who also destroys his clothes in transformation and then is left wearing his jean shorts.  Why do you think he wears jean shorts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josie: Hmmmm... I need to think about that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DH: Do you think he is gay?  Or, maybe he is a nevernude.  I miss Tobias Funke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.spudart.org/blog/images/2006/wallbreaker-incredible-hulk.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.spudart.org/blog/images/2006/wallbreaker-incredible-hulk.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-8837279936904817716?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/8837279936904817716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=8837279936904817716' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/8837279936904817716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/8837279936904817716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/idle-conversation.html' title='Idle Conversation'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-2265856241967156842</id><published>2006-12-08T17:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T17:54:19.503-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lola is behaving badly again</title><content type='html'>But before we get to that I thought i'd throw in a few photos of the pooch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RXn1S0LH62I/AAAAAAAAAAU/6Ld6h5AP1tU/s1600-h/DSCN1597.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RXn1S0LH62I/AAAAAAAAAAU/6Ld6h5AP1tU/s320/DSCN1597.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006302164390767458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah....isn't that precious.  Here is Matisse and his friend One Armed Teddy.  He won't let me have it long enough to sew the other arm on it, hence it's name. The teddy was not intended for him, but he claimed it before I was done with it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a day like today I needed something a bit more cheerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to Lola (a.k.a. my right ovary).  Well, she once again decided she was not going to play nice and now she presented herself with a huge "mass" at this mornings wanding.  It is not a fluid filled mass, but rather a tumor (most likely benign) or the dreaded endo.  Regardless, Dr. Bowtie is opening me up on Wednesday to check it out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was dragging my butt out of bed this morning at an entirely unreasonable hour I began to think of all the shitty experiences that go along with IF.  Here are a few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Butt crack of dawn dr. appointments&lt;br /&gt;2. Drug addict looking arms&lt;br /&gt;3. My intimate relationship with the wand monkey - the machine in exam room # 5 really gets me.  I feel like I am having an affair.&lt;br /&gt;4. Having to get creative about why you always have to leave work to go to the dr. and then dealing with the awkward silence that follows after you finally break down and tell your male boss what is going on because he is imagining up his own scenarios.&lt;br /&gt;5. Periods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is CD1 and can I tell you how much I hate my period? I can't believe she resides in my body.  I also hate young knocked up stupid girls, like the 3 I encountered at a job fair today.  Why can the stupid always reproduce so well?  DH and I call it reverse Darwinism.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I bitter today?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just so you leave on a good note........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RXn6IULH63I/AAAAAAAAAAc/rvXgRoMO19A/s1600-h/DSCN1615.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RXn6IULH63I/AAAAAAAAAAc/rvXgRoMO19A/s320/DSCN1615.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5006307481560279922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-2265856241967156842?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/2265856241967156842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=2265856241967156842' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2265856241967156842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/2265856241967156842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/lola-is-behaving-badly-again.html' title='Lola is behaving badly again'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_y22383jIBFo/RXn1S0LH62I/AAAAAAAAAAU/6Ld6h5AP1tU/s72-c/DSCN1597.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-4274443680197650163</id><published>2006-12-06T09:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T10:24:59.703-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair growth.... wait, where?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>Now that you know I am a calendar addict, I may as well admit another addiction: side effect obsession syndrome. As soon as I get my little package of meds in the mail I search feverishly through the box for anything that may be new or carry a new set of symptoms I can obsess about. I unfold those little pamphlets and read about the controlled studies where n=87 and the half life of the medication is 14.2 days. I reread how to administer the medication, you know, just in case this pamphlet suggests that I no longer have to jab my stomach. I even started an argument with DH after he threw out my "pamphlets" because where was I going to look now if I started having some strange symptom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Dr. Bowtie told us we would need to &lt;a href="http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-cant-write-you-prescription-for-this.html"&gt;start taking DHEA&lt;/a&gt; and that it was not prescription, but rather that I need to get it at the health food store, I kind of chuckled and thought that there is no way this stuff can do anything bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now laughing at my own ignorance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago I was examining my face in the mirror as I usually do each morning. There were a few more pimples to pop than usual (which is kind of fun, sorry). I thought nothing of it until I got to the area just below my nose, where a thick black hair was prominently marking the beginning of, dare I say it, geez, I can not even write the words, well, here it goes........a moustache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things came together while sitting at my desk later than day, I picked up the bottle of DHEA that I keep at work for my mid-day administration and read the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a dietary supplement, take one capsule daily with water. Do not exceed suggested daily dose. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Really.....Dr. Bowtie has me taking 3 a day)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Serving Size 1 Capsules &lt;br /&gt;Servings Per Container 30 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amount Per Serving % DV &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DHEA (Dehydroepiandrosterone) 25.00 mg ** &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** Daily Value (DV) not established &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other Ingredients: Di-Calcium Phosphate, Cellulose, Vegetable Acetoglycerides &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I don't know what these things are but I guess I am OK with that)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Sugar, No Starch, No Artificial Color, No Artificial Flavors, No Preservatives, Sodium Free, No Wheat, No Gluten, No Corn, No Soy, No Dairy, Yeast Free &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(well thank god, because the yeast would be horrible)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Storage Instructions: Store in a cool dry place. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(should have read this sooner)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning: Individuals under 18 years of age are restricted from purchasing this product. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(what, you think I am 18, oh how sweet)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After opening, keep tightly closed in refrigerator or other cool place. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(yeah, I get it, I will do this from here on out)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOT FOR USE BY INDIVIDUALS UNDER THE AGE OF 18 YEARS. DO NOT USE IF PREGNANT OR NURSING. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Funny, reeaal funny)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Consult a physician or licensed qualified health care professional before using this product if you have, or have a family history of, prostate cancer, prostate enlargement, heart disease, low "good" cholesterol (HDL), or if you are using any other dietary supplement, prescription drug, or over-the-counter drug. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(good here)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Do not exceed recommended serving. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Hmmm...) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Exceeding recommended serving may cause serious adverse health effects. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Now I am listening)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Possible side effects include, acne, hair loss, hair growth on the face for women, aggressiveness, irritability, and increased levels of estrogen. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(WTF! Does this stuff turn me into a man!?!?!) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Discontinue use and call a physician or licensed qualified health care professional immediately if you experience rapid heartbeat, dizziness, blurred vision, or other similar symptoms. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(I am more concerned about the facial hair growth and "other" hair loss)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; To report any adverse event call 1-800-332-1088. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Please define an adverse event because I am picking up the phone right now)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-4274443680197650163?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/4274443680197650163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=4274443680197650163' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/4274443680197650163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/4274443680197650163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/hair-growth-wait-where.html' title='Hair growth.... wait, where?!?!?!'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-1492578315383941834</id><published>2006-12-05T09:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T09:40:27.213-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning: Calendars Beware</title><content type='html'>Some people enjoy crossword puzzles and others suduko.  For yet others it is the word find or even better the word puzzles.  I wish my addiction was one of the above, but rather I play calendar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is calendar?  Well, it is a game all infertiles play while obsessing about their current and upcoming cycles.  All you need to play is a piece of paper, writing utensil, and a few important dates, such as: LMP, when you ovulated last, or retrieval date, I think you get the picture.  YOu can create many scenarios and often your game ends early when AF comes unexpectedly. I have not yet won a game of calendar, but yet I still play almost daily.  Every legitimate calendar in my possession has scribblings of projected AF arrival and guesstimates of when I ovulated last. At the bottom is the goal date - the date I would someday like to achieve 9 months down the road if AF manages to stay away for that long and instead of her ugly visit I get the big prize - a real live baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the problems with playing calendar is that is becomes obsessive. The more you loose to more you want to win. I am constantly printing out calendar templates from Word or making my own versions when I should really be taking notes in a meeting.  Just yesterday I was looking for some notes I took a few weeks ago and all that was on the appropriately dated paper was my last IVF cycle timelines with proposed retrieval and transfer dates.  Recently I have added a new twist to the game - adding in current vacation accruals so I can best plan when my final IVF should fall as to maximize my accrual potential and leave enough remainder so I can get paid to sit on the beach in Key West this spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will be happy to know that I am trying to give my calendar playing addiction a rest for a while.  Since my last failed IVF I have not calculated when I should expect AF, but rather I am going to wait for the surprise.  The big, fat, bloody surprise - won't it be fun!  I just can't wait!  Keep in mind this has taken all of my energy.  Everytime I glance at a calendar or pick up a pen and start drawing a grid that is 7 boxes wide and 4 boxes long, I manage to put myself away just in the knick of time.  I am thinking about starting a calendar addicts recovery group - any takers out there?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-1492578315383941834?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/1492578315383941834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=1492578315383941834' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1492578315383941834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1492578315383941834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/warning-calendars-beware.html' title='Warning: Calendars Beware'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-6668875393871995698</id><published>2006-12-04T15:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T15:51:54.450-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tag Smag - 5 things you are dying to know about me</title><content type='html'>I decided to take a break from the IF posting - not due to lack of material by any means.  I was tagged by &lt;a href="http://babybluebabbles.blogspot.com/"&gt;BabyBlues&lt;/a&gt; a while back and have yet to follow up on it. I have never been good at "games" but I decided to give it a shot after I lost my last post draft when I had to turn my keyboard upside down and shake all the Cream of Wheat that fell from the box I knocked over while trying to get just one more piece of chocolate off of the shelf above my computer.  Like I &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; one more piece of chocolate, but it is just so good, and dark, and toffee like.  MMM..I think I am drooling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we are on the subject of my butt size (I'll bring you up to speed: more chocolate = bigger butt), the post I lost contained lots of dishing on pg people - not becasue they can get bigger butts (I am sure I will also) but more about their choice in nasty maternity clothes.  I just returned from a fair where everyone and their sister was pg and sporting bows on their bellies and letting it all hang out.  I should mention the pregnancy stir-ups I witnessed- either they are &lt;em&gt;back&lt;/em&gt; from the 80's or this women &lt;em&gt;had them &lt;/em&gt;from the 80's.  Where does a girl get a pair of those nasty things. Anyway, the size of my bottom once again resurfaces because one of the other vendors at the fair looked really familiar.  After a while she came over to rub in how beatiful she is, I mean talk to me, and, yes we went to the same High School.  Don't you just hate it when you run into someone who is beautiful on a day you look like crap.  I didn't wash my hair this morning, I desperately need a haircut, I am carrying around about 10 extra pounds, and I am wearing my fat pants.  Also, it is freezing up here in the tundra so I wore my puffy down trench coat.  When I selected this beautiful outfit this morning I didn't think I would care, but now I feel like a frumpy fat fool. Do you see why I &lt;em&gt;need&lt;/em&gt; the chocolate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here are 5 things you most likely don't know about me and wish I never told you:&lt;br /&gt;1.  I hate being stopped in traffic.  If I am in the car it better be moving.  I will drive miles out of the way to get to my destination if I do not have to stop.  I also detour into neighborhoods to avoid red stop lights for the same reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I can't believe I am going to admit this, but I actually own some Britney Spears music.  There is no valid explaination, but in my defense it is part of my workout collection and NOT my everyday listening.  Although while writing this I started humming "Lucky." My husband will not even let me add it to our computer playlists on Itunes - he bought me my own Ipod so I can store her trash there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I cannot waste food.  Perhaps this can be blamed on my upbringing, but I would rather store something in a container in the fridge till it grows mold becasue then I have a reason to throw it away.  This weekend I was watching the Barefoot Contessa and she was making muffins.  Her bowl still had enough batter to make a few more muffins but instead she just threw it out - it made me cringe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I knit.  This is no surprise probably, but how I got into it is.  About 4 years ago I had major surgery on my had to reconstruct my lunate bone after Kienbock's disease killed it off.  I went to a few PT sessions and hated it, so I did some research and knitting was one of the activities to help build dexterity in my hand that I lost after the 6 months of inactivity that followed the surgery.  I thought it would be a good hobby to pick up because we would be having children soon. LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I have a horrible singing voice. Entirely tone deaf better describes it.  In my catholic upbringing I often sang in the choir.  I remember the musical nun going down the line of singers and offering suggestions to make their vocal contribution better.  When she got to me she paused and said, "just keep practicing...better yet, have you thought about playing an instrument?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHEW... I feel better &lt;strong&gt;that&lt;/strong&gt; is off my chest.  Now if you feel so obliged and and need a reason to post about yourself, take this as a tag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-6668875393871995698?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/6668875393871995698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=6668875393871995698' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/6668875393871995698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/6668875393871995698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/tag-smag-5-things-you-are-dying-to-know.html' title='Tag Smag - 5 things you are dying to know about me'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-5689818510039130371</id><published>2006-12-01T15:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T16:43:13.815-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just call me Scrooge</title><content type='html'>So at work, my office sponsors a family for the holidays. Since I am so grateful for what I have, and I often suffer from guilt complexes when I see someone scouring through their plastic bag of change to buy a measly sandwich or ride the bus, I thought I would participate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was flipping through the gift ideas and saw things like: towels, lotion, baby toys, baby clothes, grocery store gift certificates, underwear, socks, and other mundane items. The gift items were all things I can just go out and buy, much less have to ask for at Christmas. I steered away from the baby related items for obvious reasons, but I did not think anything on the list was too extravagant. Finally I selected bath towels for the mom. I though I would by her something really nice, perhaps from a nice department store or something. It tugged at my heart strings that she would have to get bath towels for a present and I noticed all the items for her were really just household items for the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went back to my office and read the e-mail to get the details of wrapping and deadlines and all that jazz. Here is the information about the family:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Family Information:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 18-year-old son just had two kids; a boy 2 ½ months and a girl 2 months. We have the children every week from Thursday-Saturday, but we have very little supplies and baby things. We’re in desperate need of baby items so the babies needs can be met. My son is currently a senior in high school and is looking for a job.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice anything funny about this? No, I am not talking about the misuse of the word little. The 18 year old son has a 2 &lt;strong&gt;and&lt;/strong&gt; 2 1/2 month old for starters. That means he got 2 different people knocked up. Hmmm... I think that changes the way I feel about buying them something. I know I am evil but why should infertile me have to help out other non-infertiles that obviously made really stupid decisions in their lives. Yes, it is about the children and they should not have had to suffer. Although, those babies could have at least been put up for adoption so people like me and YOU could be parents. (Oh, that's right the laws in this country are crap for b-parents so the babies would be placed with us and then taken back after a while.) Yes, I understand the complexity of these statement. I am a very empathetic person, in fact I worked in welfare to work for 5 years and I know some things are shit luck and others just stupidity. Most often stupidity prevails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does everything have to relate back to my infertility? I guess I am no longer in the Christmas spirit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-5689818510039130371?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/5689818510039130371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=5689818510039130371' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/5689818510039130371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/5689818510039130371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/12/just-call-me-scrooge.html' title='Just call me Scrooge'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-1968074264909117441</id><published>2006-11-30T17:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-30T19:06:44.283-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Um, yeah, a huh...</title><content type='html'>Remember all my whining about onesies just yesterday. Well, when I got&lt;br /&gt;home from work, DH had a little present for me. He went to the baby&lt;br /&gt;store (he has NEVER been there before) and purchased some&lt;br /&gt;"replacements". I was touched and even as I relayed the story to a&lt;br /&gt;friend on the phone later that evening I welled up just thinking about&lt;br /&gt;how lucky I am. She said she did also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I am talking about foot in mouth moments, remember that baby shower I was convalescing about yesterday. I "forgot" to add the part that made me look bad -&lt;br /&gt;a.k.a. The words that made me stop speaking and start drinking. Shortly&lt;br /&gt;before the shower began DH informed me "a certainnewmom" was not going to be there because her 9 month old needed to go to bed at 7 or so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sidenote: when did having kids make people so incredibly uncool. Like staying&lt;br /&gt;up an extra hour or so is that big of a deal. The baby is home all day&lt;br /&gt;with parents and he is hardly fussy, or so they say/brag. Oh, yeah, I&lt;br /&gt;don't understand because I don't have kids, or so I am told all the F'in time.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, DH told me he talked to MR "a certain newmom" and it was just too stressful to have to attend an event that started at 7 because of the whole bedtime debacle so he was coming stag.  Did I mention that the showeree recently hosted a shower, which we all attended, &lt;strong&gt;for&lt;/strong&gt; "a certain newmom"? Let's get this straight, the crazy infertile, a.k.a ME, had to attend this shower but the person for whom we had a shower didn't. Did I say attend, I probably meant co-host, but who's keeping track anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, bitter, you ask? No, not at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it all sounds good and nasty and I was quite forthcoming with  my criticism until "a certain newmom" walked in the door w/baby in hand. She thought she should try to make it for a little while anyway. Should I take back what I was saying&lt;br /&gt;BEFORE she came, heck no. The fact that she even considered NOT coming is still insulting, but since I did make a HUGE deal about it I probably should open my mouth and insert foot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-1968074264909117441?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/1968074264909117441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=1968074264909117441' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1968074264909117441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/1968074264909117441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/um-yeah-huh.html' title='Um, yeah, a huh...'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-8901029520894875953</id><published>2006-11-29T15:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T15:49:34.531-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The shower update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6122/4457/1600/725873/matissebooties.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6122/4457/320/182907/matissebooties.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since we realized having a baby would not be easy for us I have tried to avoid baby showers. Can someone tell me then how I have ended up hosting or co-hosting 4 of them? I guess I am a sucker, but in my defense 2 were for fellow infertiles, one defaulted to our house when plans fell through otherwise, and the 4th one was last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6122/4457/1600/490973/babybootiesonwhitebackground.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6122/4457/320/696485/babybootiesonwhitebackground.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I do this to myself. Last night was not bad and actually kind of fun. It was a friends shower (not just females), the food was awesome, there was liquor (lots of it), and the only "game" we played was the baby picture game, which is hardly a game and the prize was a can of WD40 rather than some stupid lotion set.&lt;br /&gt;I was even a good sport and continued with my tradition of "making" present for my friends. You can see the absolutely adorable booties above (there is also a hat to match).  But.......Babyshowers are just so hard and such a reminder of what I don't have.  Our friends always say that they will have the best shower for us and while that is nice, it doesn't "solve" anything.  I don't know when &lt;strong&gt;that&lt;/strong&gt; time will be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, last night I brought some onesies to hang up as decoration.  These were clearance onesies that I bought at Target a while ago.  It is stupid and I brought them fully knowing I may not get them back, although I did not make any suggestion that they were for the showerees.  Well, my heart sunk when the soon to be dad gathered them up and said "who do I have to thank for these".  I just didn't have the heart to tell him that they were not for him, but inside I was so shook up.  I guess I thought going into it that I would not be bothered if they thought it was a present for them, but I was wrong.  &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Please let me stress, I am not mad or even faulting the dad, but rather just sad for us.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;  It just feels so painful knowing that something I bought with the hope of having a child was taken by someone about to have one.  That is the part of IF that really sucks.  You see someone living your dream, your life, and enjoying the happiness that you deserve also.  DH and I were up most of the night thinking.  It was not the loss of the onesies, but rather the affirmation that someone would not think I need them.  You know, why would I, I am not pg and may never be.  I guess it just felt like someone was taking my dream.  I know that the soon to be dad would feel AWFUL if he knew I was upset and I don't want that.  I am not upset at him, but rather the situation we are in and I don't know anyway to explain how much that hurts to a fertile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-8901029520894875953?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/8901029520894875953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=8901029520894875953' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/8901029520894875953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/8901029520894875953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/shower-update.html' title='The shower update'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-9083383967789163735</id><published>2006-11-28T15:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T16:10:18.744-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't write you a prescription for this one...</title><content type='html'>We are going ahead with round 3.  So that is good news, right?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I must add again that my dr. is amazing.  He can handle all my obsessive qualities and still makes time for meaningful small talk.  Today he (Dr. Bowtie) commented on DH's outfit.  Yeah, DH is a awesome dresser and he is not afraid of color, bold ties, funky blazers, and pocket squares.  Last year he went on an ascot kick and had me searching all over town for fabrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, Dr. Bowtie thinks it is probably an egg problem (although the sperm is not the best either), he is willing to consider my sis as an egg donor and may even explore the option of starting a donor cost share so I don't have to switch clinics (note: my clinic recently did away with their donor cost share).  He didn't want to talk much about the donor options since that "is still a ways off".  Actually it isn't, but I know he wants to focus on the next step.  What is the next step you ask?  Well, he has me taking DHEA 3x's a day for the next 3 -4 months and then wants to try again.  I read the study that states that DHEA can help improve egg quality and such, so we are going to give it a try. Once I find it I will link it for all you curious souls but right now I am preparing for a baby shower that I am hosting so I can't focus on my own fertility (but rather on someone elses again!)- more on that tomorrow.   It looks like the stim protocol will be the same since I had 15 eggs.  Oh, did I mention that he will get my prescription in soon so it is covered under this years insurance (my idea not his).  Anyway - I left feeling like I was in good hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the BAD news - you knew it was coming, didn't you...  Well that cyst is most likely going to have to be surgically removed and he wants to open me up laparscopically to do it.  Those f'in cysts are eating up all my vacation days.  I would honestly prefer to use those days to sit on a beach somewhere or stay home on a rainy day like today.  Anyway, since it keeps coming back on the right side, a.k.a. Lola, he thinks it may be a benign tumor.  At this point he can just take out the whole damn ovary becasue it isn't doing me much good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few random notes: &lt;br /&gt;1. DHEA is not a prescription but rather something you get at a health food store.  If some of you egg quality ladies want to give it a go it can't hurt.&lt;br /&gt;2.  At the Co-op, while buying the DHEA, I also purchased some Ethiopian bread.  I am easing myself slowly into the adoption stuff.  &lt;br /&gt;3. Spell check is not working on blogger - sorry.&lt;br /&gt;4.  I recently switched to BEta Blogger and I can't sign in using my google account to post on all your blogs so I am using the "other" feature.  Has this happened to any of you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll update you on the shower tomorrow but now I have to get back to my prep and cocktail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-9083383967789163735?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/9083383967789163735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=9083383967789163735' title='42 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/9083383967789163735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/9083383967789163735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-cant-write-you-prescription-for-this.html' title='I can&apos;t write you a prescription for this one...'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>42</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-65353769515716554</id><published>2006-11-27T10:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T10:46:00.379-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen of Cystdom</title><content type='html'>Yeah, that is me: I am officially crowning myself Queen of the Cystdom.  Since my body is in charge this is not gonna be a socialist or democratic society but rather a pure dictatorship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go in to see Dr. Bowtie tomorrow and I have big surprise for him - another cyst on my right ovary (Lola) the left one (Pricilla) seems to be behaving a bit now but maybe I just cannot feel her because Lola is hogging all the pain receptors.  These cysts seem to be related to ovulation but they don't go away until they are aspirated or we wait.  Hmm.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So our questions for Dr. Bowtie center around egg quality, sp. quality, fertilization and embryology.  Basically, this past time we got fertilization, although the fert rate was low (5 out of 15).  Also we need to know what factors could be contributing to our poor embryology - our embryos did not have much fragmentation but they were dividing too slowly and probably just fizzled out after a few days.  I am fully prepared that we will get no answers, but a girl has to try at least. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are also going to ask him about what to do next.  It is funny, when going through an IVF cycle you want it to work so badly that you will settle for nothing else - all other options seem second class.  Now that we are not in that emotional cyclone I am much more open to adoption.  DH still thinks my mothering instincts will kick in at some point and that urge to bear a child will resurface, but right now I would just be happy to acquire a child.  Perhaps I am just desperate. I am almost positive that Dr. Bowtie is going to put us on this DHEAS (or something?) study that will require me to take this drug for at least 4 months to improve egg quality.  I can't imagine revisiting this madness after 4 months - I kind of just want to hurry up and get it over with.  How am I going to suspend my obsession for 4 - 6 months?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, if any of you want to vie for my crown of Queen of Cystdom please let me know.  I will give it up if you are deserving. In my defense, I will say that I have had 2 surgical cyst aspirations, 7 cycles "delayed" for 1 -3 months. Did I mention that I still get them when on BC to try to prevent or supress them?  Perhaps we could co-rule?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-65353769515716554?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/65353769515716554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=65353769515716554' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/65353769515716554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/65353769515716554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/queen-of-cystdom.html' title='Queen of Cystdom'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116439337657620005</id><published>2006-11-24T11:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-24T22:24:53.866-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Collected ponderings....</title><content type='html'>O.K. Just a warning - this post is going to be quite random, but I am just in that mood.  I decided to go into work today and I am sitting at my desk listening to a remixed Sergio Mendes album and thinking about the past few days.  I hate malls, cars, and people(mostly fertiles and stroller pushers), so I thought I could avoid them all by "working".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see, where to start...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I usually HATE Thanksgiving - not the holiday and the food but the having to see my family part.  My dad and brother spend the day with dad's brothers and my cousins hunting/drunk somewhere in Iowa for some poor animals, so they are not there.  My mom drives me crazy and being around her family makes it worse.  Also, most of my 16 cousins are extra fertile and someone is always pg or toting around a baby. They all live in the country town I grew up in and we drive down from the "big" city.  Can you see why we may not enjoy this much? Let's just say we are very different. My strategy this year was to have a few drinks.  (Un)fortunately I spent the morning baking my fab croissants (yes, from scratch - they rock) and had not eaten, and we were late, and I was tired, and I was dreading this event - can you see where this was going.  Yeah, I got there and hit the wine we brought (everything else is pink) and had a few glasses, err - a bottle.&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...next thing I knew Grandma was asking all of us to hold hands for the prayer.  After the formal prayer she added some lines about how blessed we are and something about being grateful and something about asking the man upstairs to continue to look after us like last year (note - last year grandma got hit by an 18 wheeler crossing the road and after 2 brain surgeries and lots of rehab she is 85 and still sharp as ever - I LOVE her).  Grandma added a moment of silence for all of us to add our thoughts and I knew she was praying for a baby for us because she told me she would - anyway, after the prayer I dropped grandma's hand and my elbow hit my glass of red wine which managed to cascade onto my shirt and down my fab new pair of long and lean jeans.  Hmm....is this some message about me refusing to be blessed?  Am I really that unlucky?  Is this the response to the baby prayer? Next thing I knew all my aunts, mom, and sis were telling me not to move so they could massage the wine off my sweater.   I decided to lay off the wine until later in the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Other random ponderings and some humor... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....You know the big hand holding farmer in the dell style circle I mentioned above? Well, my cousin's little kid - age 4 or so - was looking for her place in the circle while picking her nose and then grabbed my other cousins hand to hold.  Nothing like a good Thanksgiving booger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....Last week the news told of a newborn baby that was found (alive) abandoned in a field by a farmer in MN somewhere.  Grandma told me that she was gonna call them and tell them to bring the baby to my house (yup, seriously, she is determined to help us out).  She decided not to because she thought later that the birth parents would come back in a few months and have decided that they want the child back and because of the screwy laws here we would have to give up the baby.  She said she could not stand to see us hurt again.  She must have seriously thought this was gonna solve all our problems.  At least she gets it though - I must say I adore her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....Not once (outside of grandma) did anyone mention our infertility nor push their children on us.  This was a first.  I am sure the news of our 2nd failed IVF must have traveled to them. I don't even know of they know what IVF is.  Actually, I would like to be a fly on the wall during their whisper sessions after I leave to hear what they &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; it is.  I hope their version involves robots and light sabers because that is much more fun than shots and retrievals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that is all the randomness I can handle for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116439337657620005?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116439337657620005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116439337657620005' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116439337657620005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116439337657620005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/collected-ponderings.html' title='Collected ponderings....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116417261763480917</id><published>2006-11-21T22:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T23:16:57.653-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I finally got off my arse...</title><content type='html'>Now that one week has passed since the official notice of the BFN I am done with my pity party. Thanks to all of you who attended - I must say I know how to throw a party and the turn out was fab.  Next time I will serve more crabcakes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, now that I no longer have an excuse (depressed, sore ovaries, 2ww, etc) , I decided to actually do something about those extra 10 pounds I am carrying around in my rear. I would not say that I am fat, rather a white girl with back.  Since I started IF treatments a few years ago, the stress, waiting, meds and physical discomfort caused me to bulk up a bit. Last January I got on the scale and the number read a whopping 162 - YIKES!  I knew I was stressed with starting IVF, I hated my job, I still was not over the miscarriage, and I had not accepted my lot in life as an infertile.  Now that I am still stressed with IVF, I have a new job, have gotten over the miscarriage a bit , and have come to acknowledge my life as an infertile I proudly announce that I currently weigh in at 142.  It is crazy to think that I was carrying around an extra 20 lbs that I could live without.  I wish I could ditch infertility as "easily" as I lost that weight, but rather I think it will hang around with me like those last 10 lbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I blogging about this? I know you don't care how much I weigh and some would say that it is tacky to talk about it, but if I have to wait a while to do another cycle I need a new obsession. Also, DH and I booked tickets to Key West for a week this spring and I want to be one crazy hot infertile in a bikini on the beach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116417261763480917?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116417261763480917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116417261763480917' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116417261763480917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116417261763480917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-finally-got-off-my-arse.html' title='I finally got off my arse...'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116397578227686696</id><published>2006-11-19T16:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T21:45:22.400-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Infertility is now affecting the dog...</title><content type='html'>This week has been a bit stressful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me recap: &lt;br /&gt;1. IVF #2 BFN (I prefer big f'in nightmare)&lt;br /&gt;2. The adoption program we prefer is waitlisted &lt;br /&gt;3. Found out true cost of donor egg program&lt;br /&gt;4. Researched snowflake babies and it is not an option for us&lt;br /&gt;5. Many huge fights with DH&lt;br /&gt;6. All the work I didn't do while waiting for my BFN is now urgently due&lt;br /&gt;7. Spending time hiding from neighbors who are upset that we could not attend their child's 2nd b-day party - more about this later because I am still steaming and I cannot even get it together to compose a legible sentence.&lt;br /&gt;8. The dog is sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor little guy.  It breaks my heart to see him not wanting his food and moping around the house.  Before you start to question what sort of freak I am please stick around while I explain why the face you see on my profile is so incredibly important to me.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years ago this December 26th, we were in Key West with DH's family for the Christmas.  We go to Key West frequently since DH's uncle has a place there and who can argue with spending Christmas by the ocean.  While the weather this trip was not so great everyone was in good spirits because we gave them a wonderful Christmas present - the announcement that a baby was on the way.  When I left for Florida I was between 6 - 7 weeks pregnant off our 3rd clomid cycle and when I came home all I had was a shattered dream and a strong realization that this was not going to be easy for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the world was mourning the tragedy of the Tsunami, I was at the Key West hospital waiting for confirmation of what I already knew and hoping to get the Rogam quickly so I could return to the condo and cry myself into a coma.  When we returned to the cities a few days later I was numb.  I would sit in a chair and stair at the TV or out the window with tears rolling down my face.  Many of your know this feeling - once you have experienced it the slightest mention of the dreaded miscarriage brings backs the immense feelings of emotional distraught.  My depressed mood continued into the spring and worsened with every failed clomid cycle.  When the end of March rolled around and my b-day approached, DH asked what he could do "to bring back the beautiful smile he missed."  Without even thinking I responded, "I want a dog."  The next day we were up early and driving to pick up our new family member.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before Matisse, IF was really hard and I was hopeless.  There were nights that I ate and went to bed to cry myself to sleep.  The pain is still there, but I now have a reason to be happy and smile.  There is a little guy who waits for me to come home from work at the back window and comes running to the door with his favorite toy d'jour in his mouth to present to me.  I know it sounds silly, but I have a reason to not let infertility keep me down indefinitely.  Even when getting bad news, there is a bubbling fountain of happiness waiting to lick my tears and bring me his beloved stuffed animals to cheer my mood.  Unfortunately this week was a bit much and now my little guy is sick from a stress induced stomach problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who has a pet knows that their friend feels the mood of the house and for us the mood at our house has been a bit volatile.  I feel awful that he is so stressed out. He is incredibly sensitive and has spent a lot of time hiding under the table  this week as DH and I scream at each other (we believe he was abused as a puppy - before we got him that is.).  Are we ready to be parents if we cannot properly deal with our disappointment and fear, acting in a way that causes anguish to someone we love so much?  DH and I agree that we have to change, unfortunately our sick dog had to be the driving force.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116397578227686696?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116397578227686696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116397578227686696' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116397578227686696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116397578227686696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/infertility-is-now-affecting-dog.html' title='Infertility is now affecting the dog...'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116377925964589571</id><published>2006-11-17T09:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T10:00:59.656-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Recipe for Avoidance....</title><content type='html'>I have not been too social lately.  Actually I have been a recluse - I don't answer the phone, hide from neighbors, and lock myself in my office at work.  It has not helped that I have had a migrane for the past 2 days from the changes in hormone levels, stress, and who knows what else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I began wondering if it was me avoiding people or vice versa.  I did make my favorite Garlic Soup Recipe Sunday evening and had the leftovers at work on Monday.  Anyway, if any of you are feeling the same reclusive tendencies as me give this soup a try, it seems to repel annoying fertiles pretty successfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Roasted Garlic Soup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 heads garlic&lt;br /&gt;olive oil for drizzling&lt;br /&gt;salt&lt;br /&gt;2 onions&lt;br /&gt;2 tbls. thyme&lt;br /&gt;4 tbls butter&lt;br /&gt;1 can (64 oz.) chicken broth&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup half and half&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preheat oven to 350.  Remove about 8 cloves of garlic from one of the heads and set aside.  Take remaining head of garlic and cloves (do not peel them) and put into a small roasting dish.  Drizzle with enough olive oil to cover and form a little pool at the bottom.  Sprinkle with sea salt, cover loosely with a lid or foil and roast for about 35 -45 minutes - or until cloves are soft, browned, and a little mushy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, chop set aside cloves and onions and saute in a soup pan with butter until onions are translucent and garlic fragrant.  Sprinkle on 1/2 the thyme and set aside.  Once gloves are roasted squeeze them from their husk into the onion, fresh garlic, thyme mixture in the pan.  Add chicken broth to pan and bring just to a simmer.  Using a hand blender or regular blender, blend soup in small batches.  If it is still hot and you are using a traditional blender, don't fill the blender up entirely and substitute a towel for the lid - this allows the steam to escape and not blow the lid off.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After blending the soup to a smooth consistency put it all back in the pot.  Add enough 1/2 &amp; 1/2 to create a silky consistency and salt to taste.  Add remaining thyme, bring to simmer and serve with crusty french bread.&lt;br /&gt;__________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of our winter comfort foods - enjoy.  Like I said, it also does a pretty decent job of repelling folks for a day or so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116377925964589571?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116377925964589571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116377925964589571' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116377925964589571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116377925964589571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/recipe-for-avoidance.html' title='Recipe for Avoidance....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116360598976849257</id><published>2006-11-15T09:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T09:53:09.806-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't tell me, "Well at least you have options..."</title><content type='html'>Yesterday sucked.  Not only did I work from 7am to 10:30 pm, but I came to terms with my options.  You see we have our meeting to ponder FAILED IVF w/ ICSI #2 w/ Dr. Bowtie on 11/28 and I want to be prepared. I don't take these meetings lightly and I know that if I miss my chance to ask him the questions I need to ask I will have to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Be satisfied with the answer the nurses give me or trust them to relay my questions correctly to him and call me back.  I am NOT saying they are incompetent but rather that I am a fertility control freak and I don't even trust DH to relay information like egg quality, # retrieved, fertilization reports.&lt;br /&gt;2. Allow these questions to simmer in my being until I boil over and start getting all my answers from Dr. Google.  &lt;br /&gt;3. Plan out the worst case scenarios answers to all my questions so then at least if the news comes back differently I am not disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, it is just better to be prepared. Also, if I am prepared I will be less likely to cry.  I have not shed a tear in front of Dr. Bowtie yet and I do not plan to.  It is not that I am afraid to cry, but rather once the waterworks turn on my brain turns to mush and I forget everything I need to ask as well as the answers to the questions I did ask. Then all I can think about is that I have to walk through the lobby with my mascara running down my face.  Clinic #1 at least had a back door for this purpose. I know I would not be the first failing Ivfer to cry but I just don't want to cross that line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we have failed twice I am really concerned that we will get kicked out of the program so I need to have plan F ( F is because we have exhausted A - E and also because at this stage we are F'ed).  Plan F involves choosing between donor eggs and adoption.  I will post later about the intense never ending conversations DH and I had to arrive at these options, but frankly for now I am sick of the topic.  To continue, I called my clinic and was informed that they did away with their donor cost share program.  I was devastated.  I immediately got on the internet and checked out the 3 ivf places here and it looked like the only program for Donor Shared Risk costs about 33,000 with additional donor fees, prescreening, medication and monitoring.  YIKES.  Also, after calling no one could answer if they allow you to use known donor eggs. I left a message but was not too optimistic.  At this point I called DH and told him our decision was made because we can not put this much on the line without a guarantee and it doesn't look like known donor is an option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a fluke, I called the other IVF program in cities to get some cost info.  I guess we are at the point of shopping around for the best deal now in case we decide to try some other currently unknown option (Plan S for sucks).  How depressing.  After I got off a not too reassuring phone call with them the phone immediately rang and it was the same clinic calling me back.  Apparently, they have had so much demand for a known donor shared risk program that they are starting one up as we speak.  The cost is also 100% refundable and comes in at about 26,000 for 3 fresh cycles with medication costs separate.  I think this is good news, but please do not tell me it is great to have options because if options involve selling one of our cars and taking out a larger loan again our home I don't know how good of options they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, if Dr. Bowtie kicks us out and leaves us only with the option of donor eggs and we can find the money to continue this insanity because you know it is just oh so fun, we may be able to consider donor eggs.  Of course this would mean that I would have to go to my 3rd fertility clinic, get to know another dr., and get another full time job.  Also, the Dr. that we would most likely see at that clinic also appears to be a bowtie freak from the website photo, so how would I name him?  I think that is the real problem here - Dr. Bowtie 2 lacks creativity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116360598976849257?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116360598976849257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116360598976849257' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116360598976849257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116360598976849257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/dont-tell-me-well-at-least-you-have.html' title='Don&apos;t tell me, &quot;Well at least you have options...&quot;'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116345633312291197</id><published>2006-11-13T15:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T16:18:53.133-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Now I really hate Britney Spears...</title><content type='html'>I have no energy to be creative, so here is the update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is confirmed.  This cycle was a BFN.  I did have some very small amounts of HcG in my system on Friday and even less today, so I was probably pregnant at some point but the embryo didn't stick around.  My progesterone was at least very good - 32.5, so I don't have any problems in that area.  I didn't know if that was supposed to be good news!?!?  The nurse who gave me the news was very sweet and empathetic.  One of the nurses is pg and I truly hope they don't allow her to make these calls.  Could you think of anything worse than hearing about your BFN from someone who is PG???  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the next appointment with Dr.Bowtie isn't until 11/28, so I have 2 weeks to dream up scenarios for that meeting.  Is he going to kick us out, make us do the DHEA study and wait 6 months to try again, or tweak the protocol and just get this miserable IVF process over with so we can move on to the next step - donor egg or adoption.  We are part of a cost share, so either way we are out some money but we do get some back. Since we have paid down on our loan we will come out about even (not actually even, but that is what I need to tell myself). I have not calculated how much we have spent so far on failed fertility treatments and when I do so I am sure you will hear about it because it will piss me off.  Has anyone heard about infertility bake sales?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can't decide on what to do next.  I know some of you will say that I don't have to because I still have one cycle left, but let's face it,  DH and I are probably never going to have children of our own.  We have come to terms with that and are willing to move on....but we can't just yet.  Adoption seems like such a guarantee, but I really can not drop the feeling I have to be pregnant, grow with a child in utero, give birth and parent the child from birth.  I know this is selfish and I should just get over it, but it isn't that easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are seriously considering adopting a baby from Ethiopia.  That too comes with concerns and brings me into a new area of uncertainty.  You see, I am acquainted with all the "uncertainty" of infertility and I don't know if I am willing to throw in the towel and get involved in a different f'ed up game of sorts.  Really, I do believe in adoption, but my frustration is just getting the best of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this is all the thinking and writing I can handle for today.  Sorry for the scattered post.  I have been beaten down by failed IVF #2.  I will be back tomorrow with a new set of thoughts and hopefully a brighter outlook for our options.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116345633312291197?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116345633312291197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116345633312291197' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116345633312291197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116345633312291197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/now-i-really-hate-britney-spears.html' title='Now I really hate Britney Spears...'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116317696309677259</id><published>2006-11-10T09:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T12:23:46.503-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So you really want to know how I am feeling......</title><content type='html'>You know those feeling charts with the little faces expressing all the feelings one could have.  You typically see them in dr/counselor offices or the cubes of really, annoying co-workers that circle their mood that day so we can all be forewarned that they may not give us the response we want by first looking at the chart and seeing that the sour faced "irritable" circle is tagged as the emotion of the day.  You know, &lt;em&gt;those&lt;/em&gt; charts...  Well, if only it was that easy.  If only I could identify one emotion long enough to circle it and claim it.  Rather, I would have to circle the whole dammed chart because that is how I feel right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have been asking how I am doing with the whole 2nd IVF thing.  I usually answer that it is fine and we are dealing with it very well.  That is actually very true and if I told you that I was not lying. We are champions of our emotions this round, but it is also somewhat of a cop out answer.  Most of my days are great and I really love my life.  I have a wonderful husband, amazing dog, great and caring friends, a home of our own that we love, and a job I enjoy for the most part. I live in a progressive, affordable city where my quality of life is amazing. I have had opportunities to travel the world, am financially stable, and have had any educational opportunity available to me if I decide to pursue it.  I am not complaining and I really do know how good my life is and I appreciate it.  My husband and I comment on how wonderful our lives are almost daily.  Before you start to hate me please realize that not everything in my life is grand - I do have my share of crap, but I am able to compartmentalize all of those situations.  Even when my FIL was diagnosed with cancer we could deal and we knew it wasn't fair, we accepted it and we continue to cherish every day we have with this amazing man.  Currently the news has been positive, but let's face it, he has stage 3 kidney cancer - a very rare form at that -  and things will change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with all of these good "things" there is still a huge hole in my being.  It is a void, a sore spot, a desire I have so strongly that words cannot explain. It is not a material desire or anything I can accomplish by working really hard. Some days it is more tucked away than others, but when I look back over the past three years it has been with me in some form or another.  There is not one day that I have not had this feeling. I want to be a mother, I want my husband to be a father, I want us to partner and show a child all the amazing things life has to offer.  We know life isn't fair and we don't promise our desired child that it will be without disappointment, but our method of coping, our dedication to each other, our passion for life is so strong that we know we can make it through anything.  Why are we not being given that opportunity?  I promise, we would raise amazing children, people to be proud of, people this world needs more of.  We would dedicate ourselves to them entirely and show it as is appropriate, allowing them to grow and lead the life they want and be the person they so desire.  I would not force my way into their life, but rather feel privileged to be included.  I just don't understand why and I guess because of that I am sad, angry, frustrated, disappointed and all of the other feelings combined from that damned feeling chart.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was my first beta.  They don't tell you the results until after your second beta, which, for me, is scheduled for Monday.  I already know the results.  I have been doing the POAS dance for a few days now and the results have not been in my favor.  I don't know why I am so emotional.  I rarely cry and when I am angry I let it pass pretty quickly.  Today is different though.  I woke up crying, my eyes welled up with tears while getting my blood drawn and I postponed it until I got out of the  DR. office.  I sat in the parking garage at work and cried on the phone to DH and, now, tears are streaming down my face as I struggle to complete this post.  I guess I would have to say that today I am really, really sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116317696309677259?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116317696309677259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116317696309677259' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116317696309677259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116317696309677259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/so-you-really-want-to-know-how-i-am.html' title='So you really want to know how I am feeling......'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116299744692366883</id><published>2006-11-08T08:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T08:50:46.936-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Operation Continuing Negative</title><content type='html'>Status: 10dp3dt still BFN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I may be jumping to conclusions, but unlike some of our government leaders, if I am going start something important I want to have plan.  What is this plan you ask?  Well I am currently crafting a new strategy to achieve pregnancy and taking into consideration that the current egg + sp. Combination make need to be altered.  yup, I revisited the donor conversation before 7am this morning.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know it is still early, but there is no line.  Even evaporation lines have given up on me now and I am stuck with the stark white pee stained strip, and we all know that SWPSS = BFN.  Pretty soon the control lines will take a hike.  I used to like white, it was such a neutral non-offensive color, well, not anymore, it seems to have taken sides with the anti-positive crowd. My first beta is Friday and I am trying to study but nonetheless I think I am going to fail this test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I may be jumping to conclusions since we are not yet done with this cycle and we have one more attempt in our cost share.  Dr. Bowtie even talked about some study where I take some drug that can miraculously make my ovaries act like they are 28.  Wait, am I 28 and my eggs appear to suck...hmmmm.  Also, I don't think it is just the eggs, but rather the combination.  I think DH and I are a bad combination.  We are great everywhere and in every way except reproduction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I researched the donor egg thing and the cost is a bit prohibitive for us right now so I was depressed.  You see, my sister has offered to be a donor for us, but that is a HUGE commitment on someone's part and I don't know if I want to put her through it at a whopping 22 years of age.  That is a lot to ask of someone - she would need to stop smoking, partying, and is she even mature enough to make that decision at her age.  Plus how would we compensate her????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I asked if DH was ready to look at male donors and he said, "Well we should try my guys first with the donor, shouldn't we?"  Yes, I guess we should if that makes him feel better.  I really don't care where the eggs come from as long as they "work" but for DH I do really hope his guys can pull through for him because I think it will be hard on him if they don't.&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Also, if anyone from Wisconsin is reading this, you really must defend yourself after last nights performance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116299744692366883?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116299744692366883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116299744692366883' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116299744692366883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116299744692366883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/operation-continuing-negative.html' title='Operation Continuing Negative'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116291832706660110</id><published>2006-11-07T10:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T17:21:34.456-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I should have left it well enough alone...*** Updated</title><content type='html'>Despite your encouragement to avoid the POAS madness I couldn't.  Yup, I wasted 7 bucks before 6 am.  I am only 6dp3dt but I thought just this once my body would be on my side and surprise me, relieve me, and do what it does for most women. Instead of a positive it left me pissed, and instead of relieved it left me uncertain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who do we do this to ourselves? I can think of a million reasons not to test - to early, the trigger may still be in my system, it gets ridiculously expensive (I really should try online or dollar store), just leaves me in a dejected funk rather than an anticipation funk, makes me extra bitter at easily pregnant and fertile people, I obsess even more, it consumes me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to reasons why I test: it may be positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just once, I think, it may be, it has to be, how could it not be positive and then this would all be over and I could go on with my life - or so I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead I sit here somewhat weepy and my b**b soreness went away, and all I have to show for my madness is a stupid evaporation line.  Believe me, I am almost certain it is just that because I took the test apart to verify as I held it over a bright light and according to www.peeonastick.com that is exactly what you are NOT supposed to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention I hate easily pregnant and fertile people.  I guess that is another story for another post - right now it would just come across as displaced anger and we know that isn't the case, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*******************************&lt;br /&gt;Because I am sure my POAS obsession will continue to get worse I researched pee sticks a bit and found that the ones from the Dollar Tree are sensitive to 25, which is equivalent to the Early tests - you know the ones that say you can test 5 days sooner - I typically pay about 10 bucks a piece for them at Walgreen's / Target / etc.  Did I mention they cost only $1.  yup a buck - I feel like an addict who found a new supply.  I went and got some on lunch and waited to take one when I got home.  It was negative, of course, but at least I only wasted a buck and I have a stockpile now without taking out a small loan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to make sure I don't dig it out of the garbage.  What, at least it isn't an eclair, George......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116291832706660110?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116291832706660110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116291832706660110' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116291832706660110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116291832706660110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-should-have-left-it-well-enough.html' title='I should have left it well enough alone...*** Updated'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116283142394742722</id><published>2006-11-06T09:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T10:43:44.030-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bargaining.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;In the KÃÂ¼bler-Ross Grief Cycle, the fourth stage is one of desperate bargaining. In order, the stages are: Shock, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Testing, Acceptance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Symptoms&lt;br /&gt;After the fires of anger have been blow out, the next stage is a desperate round of bargaining, seeking ways to avoid having the bad thing happen. Bargaining is thus a vain expression of hope that the bad news is reversible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bargaining in illness includes seeking alternative therapies and experimental drugs. In organizations, it includes offering to work for less money (or even none!), offering to do alternative work or be demoted down the hierarchy. One's loyalties, debts and dependents may be paraded as evidence of the essentiality of being saved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always said that those going through infertility go through the steps of grieving, and I am sure I am not the first.  Even if you go on to have a child of your own, you still have to grieve the ability to have children like fertiles (a.k.a. the majority).  Since there are so many things to grieve in infertility, I find myself jumping between stages.  With that said, I can't say that I follow these steps in absolute order, but I am finding myself at the bargaining stage right now.  I find myself thinking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....If only this works I will not desire more children and just be grateful for what I get, one or two, even though I truly desire two I could sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....If the next thing on the radio is a song and not a commercial I am certainly pg - note: I listen to public radio so the odds should be pretty good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....If the I'm feeling lucky google search returns good news I will be satisfied&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....If I finish typing this sentence before the babychime* I am certainly going to get pg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....If I wait to start the POAS madness until Wednesday it will be positive because I am waiting the 12 days for the HcG to leave my system and a few *extra* days from implantation, which could be late becasue my embies were only 4 and 5 cells at transfer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now some would call that last one rationalizing, but really I am just bargaining.  I am trying to save myself from what I know if coming: BFN.  I am currently 95% sure this cycle is not going to work out and we are going to have the donor egg discussion with Dr. Bowtie very soon. Heck, I am already thinking of calling up my sister and asking if she is still willing to be a donor.   DH has agreed to use donor sp. if we use donor eggs, so why don't we just get on with it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't we?  We could be done with this madness and have a child to love and share experiences with but instead I am sure we will again put ourselves through hell to get no where.  To think, I was most dreading the PIO shots and they are NOTHING compared to the anguish this process causes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*BAby Chime: as I stated before I work in a hospital and everytime a baby is born they play this little lullaby.  Unfortunately my office is right by the speaker for our floor and I get to be reminded of how many babies are born every day.  Yes some to infertiles, but many to people who may not have wanted them as much as me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116283142394742722?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116283142394742722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116283142394742722' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116283142394742722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116283142394742722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/bargaining.html' title='Bargaining.....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116266611477696736</id><published>2006-11-04T12:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-04T12:48:34.783-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Optimism, oh optimism where did you go....</title><content type='html'>So some of my optimism left and I finally had my long awaited cryfest.  Now, I must say I am proud that I made it this far into IVF #2 without even a well up of a tear but now that is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it started when I was eating breakfast this morning.  Since we are still kind of celebrating DH's PhD (more celebrating that he is OUT of GRADUATE SCHOOL forever) I got up early and went to get us bagel sandwiches so we could have a nice breakfast together.  And yes, I even got a sandwich for the dog, although we have to teach the big poodle to savor his food and not inhale it.  Anyway, during our relaxing breakfast to kindergarten Cop (the best thing on TV - it is negative attack ad season you know) is when the dreaded call came.  You see, DH and I are rather politically active and up in MN this campaign season is especially spicy so we have been getting &lt;strong&gt;a lot &lt;/strong&gt;of campaign calls.  I would have taken any other call than the one I got - even a political call for the "other side".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you probably guessed, it was the lab calling to tell us that none of our embryos made it to blast so they could not be frozen.  I knew this was a strong possibility but it just struck me as the first "failure" of this cycle.  The Dr. Assured me that this was not indicative of our embryos surviving in me, but I am losing some of my confidence.  I guess this is the first time that I had to again consider that we do have damaged goods - not so hot egg quality and poor sperm.  I questioned again about why they wanted to put the 4 and 5 cell / grade 1 embryos in rather than the 6 cell grade 3s and she said chances for survival are better even if the embryos are a bit slow. &lt;strong&gt;Does anyone have any information about this??? &lt;/strong&gt;  She again stated that they got a +beta off a 4 cycle just recently. In the whole fertility game, I have been the one to defy the odds in the not so good kind of way so why should I believe that things are going to be different this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that call started the bad mood and I went into "pick fight" mode.  Although, much to DH's credit, he would not respond to my attacks and rather sat down next to me and told me that he hates watching me have to go through this.  He then said let's go talk about it.  WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?  Really, he is so....supportive in every that I needed.  Now I should say, he is a great man but we typically deal with infertility very, very differently and this has caused some whopper arguments in the past.  Point blank: &lt;br /&gt;me= irrational, cry, jump to conclusions, dwell (in my defense I am on hormones)&lt;br /&gt;him = extremely rational and able to move on quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were chatting DH offered up an excellent suggestion.  After telling him that I am more afraid of having to go through all the anticipation and anxiety again with another IVF cycle more than a neg test he suggested they should just put me into a coma.  Yup - his suggestion was just to put me in a coma through the whole IVF process and keep me there for 4 months if it works to help with the pregnancy after infertility / miscarriage 1st trimester worries.  Not a bad idea now, is it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116266611477696736?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116266611477696736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116266611477696736' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116266611477696736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116266611477696736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/optimism-oh-optimism-where-did-you-go.html' title='Optimism, oh optimism where did you go....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116261672697847663</id><published>2006-11-03T22:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T23:05:26.996-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gonna enjoy it while I can....</title><content type='html'>I am only a few days past transfer I can not stop obsessing that our embryos were only 4 and 5 cells at time of 3 day transfer.  I have googled it, read reports and am just going to try to not think about it much until I can test next week.  I really wish they would have had a few more cells so I would not have this to obsess over my entire 2ww, but at the same time I should just be grateful we got this far.  To add to my craziness - I am still concerned that I am going to dislodge them or prevent them for implanting even though I have read a zillion reports that state this is not possible.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, DH defended his PhD today and we celebrated with his family.  We went over to the inlaws for a drink and immediately upon walking in the door my FIL handed me a glass of Crystal Regal (sp?) non-alcoholic and said "we got this for you since you can't have alcohol".  At the restaurant I ordered a salad with beets and chevre chaud and my SIL spouted off about how I should not eat the cheese.    FIL would not even let me have a sip of his beer and it smelled so good - like chocolate.  Not to mention, DH was having a brie sandwich for lunch and I asked him to make me one (I took the nurses advise to stay in bed / couch and order him around on ET day) and he refused. Normally I would be HUGELY annoyed that these people are telling me what to do and being a little crazy, but instead it made me feel kind of good.  I remember feeling this way only once before - before I miscarried a few years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, technically, I am not even pg.  Heck, the little ones may not have even implanted yet, but in my mind I am going to go with it until I find out otherwise.  Is that just pathetic?  I want SO badly to be pregnant that I am going to act like I am already?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided that I am just gonna enjoy it while I can because that is what I need to do today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116261672697847663?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116261672697847663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116261672697847663' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116261672697847663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116261672697847663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/gonna-enjoy-it-while-i-can.html' title='Gonna enjoy it while I can....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116250796753790603</id><published>2006-11-02T16:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T16:52:47.546-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The transfer...</title><content type='html'>First off, does valium do anything???  I guess it made me go home and sleep for a little while but other than that I was not relaxed nor absent of pain.  I have a "spare" tablet from my first IVF that I did not need since I never made it to transfer but now I have lost interest in it and will probably just throw it away when I clean out the medicine cabinet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The transfer went o.k.  They put 2 of my little embies in - apparently the best two.   The were both grade 1 but only 4 and 5 cells so I was a bit worried and am just hoping that they were waiting to get back into the cozy Uterus before they go crazy with multiplying.  The embryologist said she wants them at 6 - 8 cells but the cleaving was very clean and other than that the quality was quite high.  Can 1 or 2 cells really make a difference?  I certainly hope not.  The RN/Tech said they had two 4 cell pregnancies just the day before so not to be too concerned.  I hope she was not just trying to make me feel better. I got to see them under the microscope and they were so cute, in a weird only mother would love kind of way.  I was kind of worried all day yesterday but I have this feeling of hope since we have not made it this far yet in the process.  Not to mention I was watching something on TV and one of the commercials that kept playing was some guy dancing and the voice over said - "They.ve got to keep multiplying"  I was unable to get it out of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nice embryologist guy (who I ran into at the coffee shop) was not on transfer duty that day but he made a trip down to wish me well.  He is really awesome and I know he truly cares and wants us to get pg.  I was just so touched that he cared enough to do that and no he was not just walking by, he actually told us that he will be hoping for the best and can't wait to hear good news and made a trip to the transfer room to tell us.  Some people are so dedicated to their jobs and it really makes a difference.  Dr. Bowtie was also not on that day but I had Dr. Mystery do my transfer.  I call him that because I cannot figure him out - I think he is the really smart shy kind of awkward type.  Anyway, when he walked into the room I asked if he was ready to Knock me up and he kind of chuckled and put on his could be climbing MT Everest head lamp to take a peek.  Really - do you need that much light to look into my uterus.  The process took about 45 minutes - 1/2 of it was spent trying to thread the catheter into my curvy uterus and and the rest on the transfer and then resting.  I think Dr. Mystery was a bit nervous because he stopped talked and went into ultimate concentration mode.  Once he got the little ones in and got the clear from lab that they were in me and not the catheter, he FINALLY took the metal speculum out, stood up, and did a little dance to tell me my uterus is "curvy".  It made me chuckle and distracted me from the still lingering speculum discomfort.  I think those things are designed by men.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now begins the wait.  I feel a little, well, I don't think there is a word to describe nervous, anxious, excited, scared....  I am afraid I am going to push those little embies out when I go to the bathroom or that my uterus is not taking good care of them.  I so badly want this to work so I can return to some level of normalcy in my life.  After TTC for the past 3 - 4 years I don't even know if I remember what that is like, but I am ready to create a new life for DH, Matisse (doggy), and my little ones.  I fear the results of this round not because I am further from having children but more because I want to be out of this game right now.  I am ready to be done with infertility.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116250796753790603?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116250796753790603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116250796753790603' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116250796753790603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116250796753790603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/11/transfer.html' title='The transfer...'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116230905810409459</id><published>2006-10-31T09:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T09:37:38.116-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I was just getting coffee....</title><content type='html'>I was just getting coffee and who do I run into but the embryologist and  a manager from my clinic. Now I should mention that I work for a hospital and the IVF clinic is in the building right next to the hospital and everything is connected so really it should not be that weird to see them.  BUT, what made it weird is that it was a few minutes before 9 - the time he said he would be checking on my 5 little embies and calling if there were problems.  I SO badly wanted to ask how everything was going but with a co-worker at my side and being at the coffee shop I thought that would be inappropriate.  Now that it is 9:10 and I still have not heard from him I am assured everything is still ok, right?  I mean, really, how long can it take to check on some embies??  Did I also mention the irony here, that I went to get coffee to distract myself from the phone call that I am hoping does not come and who do I run into???  I think IVF has successfully taken over my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, we are all fortunate that I got "good" news yesterday because a series of events that went down after work could have taken a much different toll.  Let me explain:  I stopped at the CO-OP to pick up a few items for dinner, parked my car, shopped and returned to my car.  Sounds all good, right.  Well as I was returning to my car a "MOM" sporting her Oh so stylish Baby Bjorn while driving got out of the car parked right next to mine and got in the back seat of her car to strap in her newborn.  She was on the passenger side of my car and I was waiting patiently for what seemed like forever for her to get the kid situated before I even started my car or attempted to pull away.  Then, as she is about to get out of the back seat I hear a thud.  Yes folks that was MS. NewMOM smashing her car door into the side of my car.  Did she even look my way or attempt to apologize - Oh no, she was way too concerned with maneuvering herself with the strapped on kid out of the car.  Did I mention there were many, many open spots in the parking lot so she did not have to park right next to me.  My questions are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Does having children cause some peoples brains to go to mush and forget all common sense and courtesy?  Should she not have at least acknowledged her mistake and apologized?&lt;br /&gt;2.  Is the fertile world out to get me and not let me into their club just yet?&lt;br /&gt;3.  Why does anyone still use those Baby Bjorn things - really, I don't care how comfortable they are you look like a fool wearing the harness sans child and they look impossible to operate.  Personal bias for slings here - no need to set me straight since it won't work&lt;br /&gt;4. How could she do that to Goldmember.  Explanation: Goldmember is my 1993 Volvo that I love.  She (yes, I know Goldmember really cannot be a she but it is my car so I can name it as I want) is named for her brilliant shade of, well gold.  Actually it is more Champange but does anyone make a movie about Champangemember, I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now that it is 9:24 and I have effectively distracted myself form a phone call I am still hoping not to get so I better get back to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116230905810409459?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116230905810409459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116230905810409459' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116230905810409459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116230905810409459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-was-just-getting-coffee.html' title='I was just getting coffee....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116221583421232067</id><published>2006-10-30T07:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T07:43:54.226-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The fert report</title><content type='html'>The waiting in IVF and well, infertility, is almost unbearable.  I could watch my chest rise and fall with each heartbeat while waiting for the call. Since this is the place IVF #1 crashed and burned we were obviously quite anxious.  At my clinic the morning after ER call comes in at 7 am.  Last time is came at 6:47 and this time at 7:04.  Fortunately the new this time was a bit better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 eggs retrieved&lt;br /&gt;13 mature and ICSI'd&lt;br /&gt;5 fertilized normally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.K. - breathe a little sign of relief.  He did say the fert rate was low and they shoot for at least 65% but I am just happy that any made it at all.  Also, the egg quality was a bit better than last by some inner shell in my eggs was a bit hard to puncture.  Since my DH already has compromised swimmers could this be our problem?  I guess I am still looking for some explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have my next item to obsess about - making it to the transfer.  The embryologist said that 98% of fertilized embryos will make it.  I guess that is a pretty good odd, right?  Although I can't help but remind myself that nothing else goes as planned so why would I not be the 2% that fail.  Then I have to worry about grading - does it ever end?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, on the bright side - this is the closest we have ever come and we now have 5 little ones incubating.  Let's hope they hang in there and want to meet us on Wednesday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116221583421232067?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116221583421232067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116221583421232067' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116221583421232067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116221583421232067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/10/fert-report.html' title='The fert report'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116214195557933945</id><published>2006-10-29T10:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T11:12:35.596-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Retrieval</title><content type='html'>Well, the retrieval went well - 15 eggs total, 8 on the right and 7 on the left, I think, although I was a bit spacy.  The drugs they give you make me talk a lot and I am glad my husband is not in the room because he would continue to tell me all the "funny" (read embarrassing) things I said.  Apparently this time I talked about how I dress my dog up for Halloween and how I want chickens.  I have no idea where that came from, other than the fact the I do really want a few chickens someday.  It is a bit of a sore spot with my husband and I because we do live in a pretty big city and have a city sized yard and chickens are, well messy.  But I grew up in the country and we always got our eggs from the farm and it is just so much better.  Anyway - I have NO idea where that came from because we have not discussed chickens for quite some time.  I fear what else I may have said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now begins the official freak out for me.  At this point in IVF #1 we got 7 eggs and only 4 were mature and none fertilized properly.  They don't know the reason for the lack of fertilization but the embryologist said my eggs were highly fragmented.  My FSH score is 7.4 and E2 was in the suitable rang, my ovaries are of good size and I have a good antral follicle counts so what else could be making my eggs of poor quality, if in fact they are?  Some scenarios the embryologist suggested were the medications used for stimulation or suppressions or some inherent sperm defect since we do have to ICSI to get any fertilization.  I just hate all the unknowns in the process.  I will say that this cycle was so much better than last - no headaches, more eggs, good E2 - on day 4 of IVF #1 my E2 was only at 29 and this time it was at 182, so I seem to be progressing better.  I do really hope that is the case.  Perhaps it was the acupuncture??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a final note - I must add that my clinic is so great.  I really feel like Dr. Bowtie (note - today was the first time ever in 2 years that I have seen him w/o a bowtie b4 he changed into his IVF outfit - very, very weird) wants me to get pg, not just from a fiscal perspective but because he is such a great person.  The lab folks are so personable, even as they prick you, and the IVF nurse/tech is just so caring, skilled and has a great personality.  Not to mention that the CNP/Midwife I love so dearly was there today and she stopped in to reassure me after the procedure.  They really are great people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116214195557933945?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116214195557933945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116214195557933945' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116214195557933945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116214195557933945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/10/retrieval.html' title='Retrieval'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116197065675891363</id><published>2006-10-27T11:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T11:37:36.766-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying to get trigger happy</title><content type='html'>Well, it looks like to trigger is tonight and the retrieval is scheduled for Sunday.  I hate the whole daylight savings timing snafu and I will not be assured that we have it figured out until I hear that I did not ovulate prematurely.  I am supposed to trigger tonight (Friday) at 9 pm and retrieval is scheduled for Sunday at 8.  Does that sound right?  I think that is 36 hours later taking into account the time change.  This is the first time in my life I wish I lived in one of THOSE places that doesn't have daylights savings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stats for this cycle are continuing to look good - My E2 was at 1500 or so and I have about 15 follies that are ripe and a few others that are too small.  My lining is currently at 11 and I think I saw a triple stripe. I have one last acupuncture appointment tomorrow morning and I think that will help me even out a little because I am starting to freak out and worry again about fertilization.  DH keeps saying that worrying is useless because it will not change anything, and even though he is oh so rational and right I have not convinced myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, for those of you reading this that I know, we got some good news with DH's father.  He had his 6 month scan and his cancer has still not come back!  Yeah!  I hope this can be a trend we continue to see!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116197065675891363?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116197065675891363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116197065675891363' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116197065675891363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116197065675891363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/10/trying-to-get-trigger-happy.html' title='Trying to get trigger happy'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116194194098415284</id><published>2006-10-27T02:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T03:39:00.996-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't sleep.....</title><content type='html'>ARGHHH....There is nothing worse, well at least at this moment, than not being able to sleep.  Since my mind is racing, I am blaming it on infertility and all the stresses of IVF.  In truth, I just ate a huge dinner out at a fancy restaurant with friends and consumed too much alcohol and food and am probably sleeping a little lighter than usual, but if I didn't wake up to obsessing thoughts of how miserably IVF #1 went I would probably be able to fall back asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In truth, IVF#2 is so much different than #1.  The first time I used the long protocol with lupron and 150 gonal-f in the morning and 75 menopur in the evening.  From the 1st injection, I felt the lupron suck the life out of me.  On day 4 of meds, my E2 was only at 29, so, basically I was still suppressed.  They upped my meds a bit but I only managed to muster out 4 mature follicles after 11 days and non were of any quality.  Although my E2 started to climb and continued to do so, I felt, well, funny.  I usually have follicle pain and I had little, not to mention any signs of rising E2 such as the CM.  Dr. Bowtie wanted to continue because he thought that with my age, 28, I would have high quality eggs.  Boy was he wrong.  The 4 eggs were highly fragmented and even with ICSI, none fertilized properly.  I didn't sleep at all after the transfer and when the embryologist called the next morning, I think my subconscious already knew what he was going to say.  It was funny how it happened though, if one must find humor and irony in the situation.  Let me explain, I was making my dog his breakfast of scrambled eggs (yes I make him breakfast everyday) when I got the call.  Not only was it like the scene from Sex and the City where Charlotte gets the exact same news while making Harry eggs for breakfast, but as I was scrambling eggs as he was basically telling me that my eggs were scrambled.  My husband, mr. cycler, was out for an early morning ride to try and ease some stress but he wasn't feeling it so he came home after just a few miles.  It just sucked and we were not prepared to hear that in addition to MF we may have another roadblock - poor egg quality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone call with the embryologist left us with more questions than answers and I had to wait a full week and a half to sit down with Dr. Bowtie to get answers.  That is the worst part - the waiting.  Dr.'s wonder why we spend so much time consulting with Dr. Google and the truth is that we needs answers, even if they are not bonafide they are at least a distraction.  I think Dr. Bowtie sometimes thinks I am having an affair with Dr. Google, but if he only made himself more available to my insane questions 24 hours a day I would not have to look elsewhere to fill my "needs".  Anyway, the embryologist told us that we could have a problem that would give us a chance of mutation (read: birth defects) and that could be part of our problem.  We were worried about being dropped from the cost share, wondering what to do next and basically had a week to freak out before anyone clarified anything.  In truth, we found out that there are no solid answers to our questions and the only way to see if this is a problem is to try again with a different protocol.  It was at this point that I looked to the blogs for answers b/c I could NOT be the only one out there with this problem, could I?  And if others had similar issues what did they do to combat them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that brings us to IVF #2.  This time there is no lupron.  I also had been going to acupuncture weekly, drinking a nasty herb decoction, seeing a chiropractor, got healing touch, and didn't work out too vigorously. At the clinic where I was getting acupuncture, the practitioner always acted like she was disappointed in me that I could not come 2x's/ week as she requested, so I quit her and sought out someone else. I have been seeing the new acupuncturist 3x's now during the stimulation and it seems to be countering the bad side effects and helping me relax.  Not too mention, I do have 16 follies and a solid lining - now let's just hope the eggs are of some stellar quality.  With my next appointment - day 11 - tomorrow to check the status of my follies and my lining and hopefully set my retrieval date for Sunday I am starting to loose sleep over this whole thing. I can't help but feel that since I started taking the ganirelix I have slowed down my egg production and this could be problematic.  I also worry that I am going to long this cycle since last time I started slower but triggered already.  I keep going between the two scenarios - no fertilization poor eggs and complete fertilization good eggs.  The thing about IVF is that there is always something to obsess over.  The process is a series of steps that you need to get past before you can graduate to the next obsession.  As I have learned from my fellow bloggers, it doesn't end with a positive beta either.  When does it end? Ever? Infertility has definitely scarred me and I don't think I will ever recover entirely.  Once you take home that well deserved baby you start all over again.  Even if you don't want to have additional children, you still know that you can't and that robs some of your womanhood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116194194098415284?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116194194098415284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116194194098415284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116194194098415284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116194194098415284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/10/cant-sleep.html' title='Can&apos;t sleep.....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116178882313056045</id><published>2006-10-25T08:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T09:07:03.146-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Clinic + Me = BFF</title><content type='html'>I love my IVF clinic.  Our friendship was rocky at first, but now we are BFF's.  You see, when I started this whole fertility treatment thing I just went with my OB/Gyn.  He has a specialty in fertility and they even do IUI's, but I wouldn't need that anyway because a few months on Clomid and I will be pregnant.  Well, I was kind of right, I did get pg on my third round of Clomid but miscarried shortly there after.  I stuck with them through 4 or so IUI's - 3 with injectable meds, but nothing happened.  One of the CNP's then suggest that I get the ball going on IVF and since she used to work for a IVF clinic she thought that we could ease into it by having my DH get the ART SA.  Little did we know that would change things, a lot.  The SA came back with 1 - 2% morphology using Kruegger's and low motility and viability.  The nurse just kept saying, the emryologist recommends IVF w/ ICSI.  That was a huge blow.  It was at that moment that I lost my, "maybe next month" optimism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I switched clinics shortly thereafter and I was not so fond of this new clinic.  The receptionist didn't smile, the nurses were straight to the point, and did the dr. really know me???  I must admit that I was being a little hard since I just left what I thought was the best clinic in the world - a place where they let me have a say, didn't shun my desire to involve acupuncture, herbs and relaxation, and were friendly.  The new clinic was scary and I didn't know anyone and I was there for business purposes only.  It was kind of like going from jr. high to high school and I thought my fertility days would never be the same.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing my new clinic did to really set me off was put me on BCP, even though we did not have anything scheduled!!!  Looking back on it, I was more angry at the situation then them.  My husband just started working after years pursuing his PhD and we were just starting to get established.  HOW COULD WE AFFORD IVF???  The new clinic didn't pressure me to get the ball rolling, rather they humored me through all my stages of realization and were right there when I was ready to make the leap.  Also, I realized that they do IVF really, really well and once you join that club you get your IVF Letter Jacket and get to play the game rather than sit on the bench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IVF Update&lt;br /&gt;Med's &lt;br /&gt;200 Follistim - morning&lt;br /&gt;1 pre-filled syringe ganirelix&lt;br /&gt;150 Menopur - eveing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baseline E2: 9.4&lt;br /&gt;Day 4 E2: 182&lt;br /&gt;Day 6 E2: 714&lt;br /&gt;Day 6 Follies: 12 total - 6 on each ovary - all about same size&lt;br /&gt;Day 9 Follies: 9 on right and 7 on left - largest is at 15 and smallest at 6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel very different this cycle compared to last, which is good since that one resulted on zero fertilization.  I go back Friday and am hoping the retrieval will be Sunday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116178882313056045?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116178882313056045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116178882313056045' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116178882313056045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116178882313056045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/10/clinic-me-bff.html' title='Clinic + Me = BFF'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116174159704054759</id><published>2006-10-24T19:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T19:59:57.050-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying to change my M.O.....</title><content type='html'>O.K., so I am not the most optimistic person, but I have to say I have made some progress.  When I was at my acupuncture appointment today, which happens to be located in a Yoga studio, something amazing happened.  I was waiting in the lounge for the person before me to finish up and all of a sudden I looked up and saw a herd of pregnant ladies moving toward me.  Yup, a herd, about 7 total all rushing to, what I later learned, is the bathroom.  Normally, I would scowl at them and hunker into my poor me spot, but amazingly, I didn't.  Instead, I said to myself, oh when I am pregnant I would like to take prenatal yoga, how relaxing. WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY CYNIC SELF????  Normally these drugs make me extra crazy and not even the least bit nice.  Not too mention that I am taking 3 of them now - Follistim, Menopur and Ganirelix.  If this is a side effect, I think I can deal with it.  Who knows, maybe it is the acupuncture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I go back for my 2nd ultrasound and 3rd E2.  I am kind of nervous and hoping that all 12 little follies are still happily growing and that perhaps a few more joined the party.  My clinic does not call unless there is a problem and so far they have not called.  I think they do this to attempt to leave the patient to have a life outside of their office, but it doesn't work.  I obsessively look at my cell phone all day and refuse to go to the bathroom because they may call at that moment and who want to hear me pee or flush.  Finally at 4:30 I start to feel a bit of relief because the office is closed.  I did say I am making some progress, and I am obsessing a bit less, but I still cannot let go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116174159704054759?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116174159704054759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116174159704054759' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116174159704054759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116174159704054759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/10/trying-to-change-my-mo.html' title='Trying to change my M.O.....'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36517866.post-116165714197205103</id><published>2006-10-23T20:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T20:32:21.980-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The first post...</title><content type='html'>Well, what can I say  - I finally made that leap and set up my own blog.  I can't say I entirely know what I am doing, but hopefully I can't do any harm.  A little background - I got into this whole blogging thing just recently while going through our first and soon to be failed IVF.  My husband and I have been TTC for 3 years and despite 1 miscarriage, I am convinced the HPT industry is out to get me.  We are know in the midst of our 2nd IVF and I feel as if I should finally contribute back to all the other infertiles since I have spent so much time reading about their lives, and at times wishing their successes were mine.  I have been just a 2nd string blog girl and I hate to admit that I do much more reading than posting, but I feel as if I know more about some of these ladies than I do about my own sister.  To get you up to date, here are our 2nd IVF stats:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No lupron since that killed me last cycle, was on BCP but ovulated anyway so the cycle had to be moved up a week to coordinate with my belligerent ovaries&lt;br /&gt;Baseline Estradiol: 9.4&lt;br /&gt;Day 4 Estradiol: 182&lt;br /&gt;Day 6 Follicle Count: 12 total - 6 on each ovary, all about same size&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am incredibly prone to cysts - actually, after last month I think they are actually not cysts but follicles that try to ovulate but can't because of the BCP's they make me take.  Unfortunately my RE (Dr. Bowtie), who has a medical degree and "a few" years of experience, isn't quite so sure.  I guess it is his word against Dr. Google.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, does anyone else think it is odd that when you spell check your blog the work "blog" is not recognized?  No I do not want to change it to "bloc", this is Blogger, isn't it??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36517866-116165714197205103?l=infertileconfessions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/feeds/116165714197205103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36517866&amp;postID=116165714197205103' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116165714197205103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36517866/posts/default/116165714197205103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://infertileconfessions.blogspot.com/2006/10/first-post.html' title='The first post...'/><author><name>Josie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14754449080156769258</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6818/4081/320/Matisse%20Face.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
