This TWW Update Brought to You By Ellen & the 2014 Oscars

Hey team.  So we left off at our latest attempt in OBM (Operation Baby Makin') by way of ovulation monitoring including several ultrasounds to measure follicles and blood work to measure LH (Luteinizing Hormone) and Progesterone.  We got the thumbs up on Thursday the 20th that I had a baller follicle and my Be-uterine lining was also stellar.  Then Meg shot me in the stomach... with a needle of HCG to help induce ovulation within 36 hours and on Saturday the 22nd we inseminated!

The past two weeks have been as rough as any TWW we've experienced.  I spent the first 7 days telling myself every second that I need to remember that I took a shot that injected me with a pregnancy hormone and that "those feelings" aren't real.  And then obsessively Google how long it takes to get that mess out of your system so you can cave to the early testing we inevitably cave to.  I chose to think as positively as possible this cycle.  We did EVERYTHING we could possibly do other than IVF to make this cycle as optimal as possible so I chose to think that we ARE going to be pregnant.  Well, that is until one day during the cycle- maybe

hormones, maybe I was hangry- when the thought weaseled into my mind, "You might not be- again." And then a negative pregnancy test image popped into my head.  That was my version of saying "that Scottish play" in a theater.  It took me days to come out of that funk.  But, again, I'm forcing myself to think positively.  Reminding myself we did everything possible to make this happen and, also, that timing things just right to make a baby is harder than that Flappy Bird game.

I have also been communicating more with friends who are going through this/have been through this- thanks ladies, you're all gems.  I can't stress this enough- if you are choosing to go through this venture it is beyond necessary to have proper support.  Because you can't have booze.  Don't get me wrong, Meg is my rock.  But sometimes you need to discuss irrational feelings with another person who has been through this Rock n' Roller Coaster Starring Aerosmith-like journey.  Or when you need to talk about bodily functions that would only chip away at the incredibly sexy image of myself I have

Potential Baby Name?

meticulously crafted in Meg's mind <sarcasm>.  And sometimes you let your crazy emotions join forces with your positive vibes and start talking about things that you would normally say fall into the "jinx bucket" of conversations, like potential baby names.  But with your Soul Cysters (I can take no credit for that one- thanks internet) it's totally kosher.  But really.  Find your outlets.

So now we wait until Friday morning for blood work.  So pray to whatever deity you believe in that we get good news.

What We Wish We Could Tell Our Fertility Docs, or, Can I Keep My Underwear On?

Another member of our TTC posse sent me a link to an article by Kathryn Kefauver Goldberg (bonus points for the baller name) titled "20 Things I Couldn't Say to My Fertility Doctor When I Was Her Patient" and it is DEAD. ON.  I pulled some snippets of my favs, but for the full jam please visit her post here.

2. Any calm and charm I exude is a façade. My super-crazy side is reserved for my husband and anonymous infertility friends online. Anything casual you say about my chances of conception will be parsed for hours and days.

Interwebs,  Am I right?

3. I respect you, but I also see an acupuncturist, a hypnotist and a psychic.

5. I look at the Internet. A LOT.

6. Infertility hurts so far beyond the baby. It's about my marriage, my friendships and my ability to picture a future. It's about my body, and whether everything I've been told about personal power is true.

8. I want to feel important to you, even as I know you are successful no matter what happens in my case.

10. Part of me thinks I can solve this with wheatgrass.

13. I try to act cool about the ultrasound wand, but I'm pretty sure I have PTSD.

14. I don't understand why I have to wait for you without my underwear. I feel everything is skewed that I have to be half-naked while you get a crisp lab coat. OK, I understand, but I hate it.

15. The waiting room is a quiet, tense, darty-eyed purgatory where every minute feels like an hour.

16. It's not the shots that are hard. I would inject myself in the eyeball to get news two weeks earlier.

My First Insemination: It Only Felt Like a Little Prick

Hey team.  So after seeing our positive ovulation predictor test I called the clinic immediately (Saturday at 7pm).  They are "open" 7 days a week, but over the holiday weekend they had someone (wo)manning the phones that are checked periodically.  We waited and waited and didn't hear back until 10:30 Sunday morning.  Which, in reality, is fine because you have a 24-36 hour window of time to inseminate after getting a positive ovulation test, but in medicated/trying to conceive land you are Whitney Houston/Alice Ripley/Kirk Cameron crazy. You turn into that person that calls a number a billion times with varying emotional messages ranging from 1 to Chris Brown.  And then they call you and you profusely apologize for being the crazy girl in the room.  They scheduled me for insemination Monday (12/2) at 9:30am.  So Meg and I did exactly what one would do before getting sperm injected in you.  I ate sushi (a pregnancy no-no), a hot dog (who knew? not allowed.) and had a gin and tonic.  Then we binge watched "Nurse Jackie" and decorated the Christmas tree.  What can I say?  We go hard or go home.

I woke up this morning feeling like I was about to take an exam and for those that don't know me, I don't test well.  I get all nervous and make horrible jokes and start talking in nonsensical sentences. In other words, I become Fox news.  So anyway, we sat down in the clinic waiting room and waited to be called in.  Eventually a nurse pulled us into a small office and informed us that the first vial of sperm they thawed had a low motility count (below the guarantee from the sperm bank).   I felt a wave of disappointment hit me- are we going to have to do all of this again another month without even trying???  She then said that they could thaw another vial and combine the two for an even stronger shot and we would be able to contact the donor bank for a refund on the low motility one anyway and we could do this in about 30 minutes.

When you have spent a large chunk of your savings on all of this I was delighted to hear about the refund. We'll see how that goes. Perhaps a post for another day?


We went back to an exam room and met our insemination nurse practitioner, Paula, who- first of all- is a DE-light.  Secondly she informed us that she is nicknamed the "Lesbinator" as she always tends to end up doing the inseminations for same sex couples.  Her patients have even made her a superhero sketch.  I CAN'T MAKE THIS SHIT UP.  After having Meg write that down and proclaiming, "I'm SO blogging about this!" she had me lay back into the stirrups.  The whole procedure took about 5 minutes and the only tough part is the speculum.  For anyone that is not familiar with a speculum and what it does, it's basically like this but on your lady parts:

And if you're lucky they warm it up first.

After she was all done I hung out for15 minutes with my hips elevated. We ended up talking to the nurse about what types of cheese to avoid while I might be pregnant (and when I am, of course). Now we wait 2 weeks and do a pregnancy test.

Also.  They gave us the (totally cleaned and sanitized) vial that the sperm came in so we could deal with the sperm bank refund. My head started to fill with ideas for a baby book and making it into an ornament...anyway, I threw it into my purse on our way out.  Then, to keep tradition alive, I went to Panera because I "deserved" a grilled cheese and tomato soup.  And guess what I grabbed first when I was reaching for my wallet?  Yup.

Weight & Pregnancy, or The Curse of the Junk In the Trunk

So as we have discussed before weight is a factor in a successful pregnancy (duh).  So with me "passing inspection" this is the last hurdle.  Fertility clinics have strict rules about BMI (this was one of the 'rules' clinics have accepting you as a patient) and, despite the fact you can be in pretty great health- weight withstanding, they can decline to inseminate you if you are not at or under the BMI cap.  I have been a "big kid" as a child, a "fat girl" as a teen and "heavy woman" as an adult.  Losing weight hasn't been easy for me and, granted, until I was 20-ish I thought potatoes were considered a vegetable... ...

I have, approx, 40 days to lose 6 pounds to get to the weight my fertility doc said I  would need to be to be approved to do insemination according to the clinic rules.  And it's not just about weight loss.  I also need to maintain my vitamin levels (I've been dissing Vitamin D), keep an eye my thyroid, balance new natural vitamins to help with LH (I read an article that says a natural way of helping increase progesterone/Lutenizing Hormones/lengthening your Luteal Stage (the part where your woman parts prepare for the baby bean drops itself like it's hot).  I'm on a cocktail of vitamins and will start taking Clomid soon.  Sorry everyone for the things I do and say- it is not me speaking, it's a concoction of random chemically induced personalities from a range of Tammy Faye Baker to Chris Brown.

But I've also started working out more.  And by more I mean at all.
I've been doing 45+ minutes a day of cardio for 6 days a week.  I also restricted my diet to no gluten,

no unnatural sugars, no sweets, limited cheese, reduced carbs, and maybe 1 drink a week (if I do it's 1 gin and diet tonic).  Now I know what you're thinking and I already left a message for the good folks at Franzia  so it doesn't throw off their inventory.  Most of the time I feel ok, but I don't look forward to eating.  I see my 134,985th day of salads in a row and there's only so much you can do to make a salad appetizing before it crosses the line into taco salad (just because it has lettuce doesn't make it a salad).  Meg and I were on a walk last night and I legit spent a quarter of a mile talking about fried mozzarella sticks and loaded potato skins like I was performing a live reading of "50 Shades of Gray".

Me Trying to Learn ANY Choreography.

 People at work have been telling me to change things up and join a gym with classes.  Then you can transition into pregnancy workout classes then post-pregnancy workout classes.  I am not good at attending classes.  Group workouts stress me out and I am part of the rhythm-less nation and I inevitably will harm myself/classmate/aerobic equipment with what should have been a Burpee and ended up being a Fartee or a downward facing dog that spirals into sideways falling Kate.  Then there are the people telling me to do Zumba.... have you seen me dance at a wedding?  I come prepared with "I'm sorry I kicked you in the face.  I blame Wine and Cher."

How I Feel When I Leave the Gym.

So, I've got 6 pounds to get to the weight my doctor wants me to be at so the clinic will allow the insemination.  Of course I want to lose more, but eye on the prize kids.

The below has nothing to do with this post, other than further proof I was a butterball of a kid, but I found it while looking at childhood photos.

Foreshadowing?

The Great Debate: Only Child Syndrome v. Stop Touching Me!

Hey team.  So we may start encountering times where there may be some radio silence.  Either we are in a holding pattern waiting on something or ... well... that seems to be the general theme of this.  Right now we're waiting for "cycles to progress" and trying to "lose some of the girth of my equator"... ok, so I'm not the best at euphemisms or discreetness. Or spelling, grammar, awareness of my speaking voice decibel or when "enough cheese" is "enough". Anywho. While we wait  and have no real news to share, I wanted to tell you about an ongoing discussion Meg and I have been having.  Meg grew up as an only child, only gaining her step-siblings (yay! we love you!) when she was a teenager.  From my discussions with her she informs me that it is fan-freaking-tastic.  She never had to share.  She never had to...come to think of it...most of the benefits circle back to that.  I, on the other hand, grew up as the youngest of two children.  Now.  Note to parents- in no way are any of the statements directed at you, your rearing or anything else that you may take personally that I may have to apologize for.  It's merely observational and backed up by tons of research (note: research may have been done by me with fellow friends with muli-kid backgrounds while at happy hour).

Let's Start With Meg's Perspective As An Only Child Rooting For Us To Have 2 Kids
First of all I'd like to say that I'm not necessarily against having only 1 kid. I see the obvious advantages. I'm just not against have 2, either. I grew up an only child and as a kid I thought it was pretty great. I never had to vie for my parents attention, they were able to be at every recital, I was able to get a ride to every party...it was pretty sweet! I remember liking to play by myself, being very independent, and not wanting anyone to mess with my stuff. I got to go to whatever college I chose because, well, there's only 1 of me. Had there been another kids to put through college, it would have been a different story. Being an only child suited me. As an adult I can see there were some downsides.
For instance, I never properly learned how to share (sorry Kate). As a kid that meant I hated when my cousins came over and wanted to play with my toys. As an adult it means that if I buy 5 yogurts, I expect there to be one available to me every day of the work week. What do you mean I live with someone else who also likes yogurt? BUY YOUR OWN DAMN YOGURT! Ok, I'm usually not that bad. I work really hard not to be a total jerk about the sharing, but it's not something that comes naturally to me. There's just no substitute for sharing space, toys, food, resources, etc with siblings. Now, as mentioned above, I do have 2 wonderful step-siblings and Kate and I are basically obsessed with them and their families. They make me see what grown-up sibling relationships can be like. I look at my mom and her adult siblings and I'm envious of those relationships. I want to provide my children with the opportunity to have those bonds. Now, Kate and I know all too well that not everyone has a sunshine and roses relationship with their siblings. But I think most people would never trade their siblings in for the chance to be an only

child. Obviously we're just working on our first child now, so what the heck do we know? This process might be so hard, expensive and time consuming that we choose not to do it again. The baby might scream his little head off for the first year of his life, much like my parents looooove to tell me I did. Hey, now that I think of it, maybe that's why they only had one...

My Perspective Coming From a >1 Kid home Voting for Us to Have an Only

In a multi-child household you come to learn how politics works. Stay with me now... The learning experiences were often accompanied by a bruise and a side of 'go to your room.  Let me set the scene.  You're in your 1980 Dodge Minivan on a roadtrip to grandma's house and you and your sibling have to share the back seat.  No iPods, no Nintendo DS, no walkman, no tv, no A/C, and you have absolutely no control over the radio as you killed any future opportunity of DJing be playing "Raffi" for 10 hours straight on the last trip.  You most likely have a book and maybe a coloring book with old ass crayons that are starting to smell funny (fun fact: I detest the smell of crayons that have been stored in a plastic school supplies box).  It's hot because it's July in Virginia aka the 7th Circle of Hell.  And you are bored.  And so is your sibling.  You look out of the corner of your eye and your sibling is slowly

moving his/her hand across the seat with their pinkie outstretched.  They creep closer and closer until they are a millimeter away from your skin and then they stop.  That is when you feel the rage bubble up inside you and you scream, "MOM.  HE WON'T STOP TOUCHING ME!" to which your siblings says rationally, "But I'm not touching her!  SEE!."  This goes on for hours until you've said "STOP IT" to your sibling more

times than we've all said it to Miley Cyrus in the past month.  Then your parents turn around, look at you (the complainer) and yell a stream of unrecognizable words that you can only assume is Swahili (?).  You sibling will give you this shit eating grin of superiority and your jaw will be on the floor with the overwhelming feeling of unfairness. You're only choice it to fake sleep until you finally arrive at your destination, but it's safe to assume you'll get a spanking once you're out of the car.  

From this experience I kind of understand the history of the relationship between England and France.

Another thing.  Money.  Children be expensive.  Yes my sibling and I shared.  Clothing, in fact.  When I first came out to my mother she said her first reaction was that it was her fault for dressing me in my older brother's hand-me-down clothes.  Not how it works, but that was precious right?  There are times when you know money is tight and you 'need' the new Debbie Gibson cassette or there's a book fair and you have to buy those books because it feels good to buy things, but you know you'll never read them because of this:

Big Ups to BuzzFeed for these visuals.

Every parent wants to give their kids everything and we all know that it isn't possible.  I worry, particularly living in Massachusetts where our rent could be 2 home mortgage payments pretty much anywhere else in the country, that we would struggle and I don't want my children to feel the stress of that.  Besides, we know that no one can really understand stress until they have had to make this decision.

Nonetheless, there are other factors behind my feelings, but we don't have to make this decision right away and, who knows, maybe clomid will make the decision for us- you guys know I love a bargain.

So This Uterus Walks Into a Bar...

Well, today we got up and went in for my hysteroscopy (the doctor thought he saw something on my HSG scans and wanted to rule out anything that needed to be surgically removed before we try).  I don't do well with waiting.  Particularly with some of the bad news we have encountered on our journey so far.  The night before the test I had crazy nightmares (mostly of the zombie nature- I blame that on Walking Dead's season premiere) and then I got "nervous tummy" which sounds cuter than it is- I still want anyone reading this to be able to look me in the eye.  I also got tense.

This test was one of the last hoops we have to jump through to ensure the "pipes are working", the "foundation is strong", the "recipe includes nutella".

What I imagine a uterus looks like.

After the doctor  Jacques Cousteau-ed my uterus (they take a camera up there and play paparazzi) he says, "Everything looks great.  You've got a beautiful uterus.
Perfect for hosting a baby."  Guys.  I really needed to hear that.  So.  We will now start clomid on my next cycle in a couple weeks and try our first insemination attempt. #wut




In the meantime we have two goals.
1. I need to lose the last few pounds that put me in the safe BMI zone.  More are welcome to relocate- but no relocating from my thighs to my ass.  Thunder is for the skies, not the thighs.  <rim shot>




2. Narrow down our donor options and order sperm.  We are really looking for someone who is tall and thin- let's fight genetics together. And has a healthy family history.  From there we'll decide what other factors are important.  Does the expanded profile say whether or not he's a Chenoweth fan?  #requirement

Guys.  Things are happening! #holler

Testosterone-y, the Real San Francisco Treat

Let's all learn this dance.

First, some good news.  I got a call today informing me about my Free Testosterone Level (a major symptom of PCOS) and it was normal.  If you need to catch up please refer to My Damn Ovaries, Not a 19th Century French Novel.

Normally, with PCOS, one would have issues with cycles, depression, thinning hair, diabetes, high cholesterol, acne and issues

with weight/losing weight.  PCOS is kind of like, your womanly hormones say, "I want babies!" and your testosterone hormones say, "I kind of like a little facial hair on a woman" and then your reproductive area goes into a 'government shutdown'.  I have 2 of those symptoms and now with normal "testy" levels they confirmed that I have a very mild case of PCOS and should not be overly concerned. But they still want to put me on Clomid to increase the likelihood of ovulating/conception.

So for this post I'm gonna go through some meds they put you on/will put me on.  Don't worry.  I did thorough research (for the accompanying gifs).

We've gone through the different types of tests that I've had- I mean mostly blood work, but I've been stuck more times than the Male Olympic Figure Skating Team.

Pre-Natal vitamins with DHA - Complete prenatal multivitamin supplement with algae-sourced DHA. For use before, during, and after pregnancy.   DHA is important for healthy visual and mental development throughout infancy.  Also DHA sounds like a baller rap name.

We got these because you can use coupons.

Vitamin D - Everybody needs it and I don't want to look like "Tan Mom".  Don't google it if you're about to eat anything.

Levothyroxine - tTis is because I have a mild hypothyroid, basically meaning that my thyroid doesn't pull its weight.  Come on, Thy.

Progesterone- they gave me this after one of the first tests to help "jump start my system"- which it did.  They have recently put me on triple the average dosage.  But no one told me that the side effects of this mean heightened emotional state,

incredibly sexy bloating <sarcasm>,

weird ass dreams

leading to lack of sleep

thus feeding the first symptom.

Clomid - This is for stimulating an increase in the amount of hormones that support the growth and release of a mature egg.  Side effect?  Chance of multiples.

Other side effects of the process of Artificial Insemination: Dry mouth, gif overload, dizziness, One Direction song stuck in your head, cramps, bad credit, joint pain, ill fitting shoes, leakage, finishing every sentence with a hashtag.