Drake and I are taking a road trip up to Vancouver, B.C. this weekend for a little weekend getaway. We’re bringing the canines, because like your American Express card, we never leave home without them, and we’re staying in a cute little B&B in the northern end of the city, out of the chaos and what-not. On the agenda: geocaching the nearby parks, grabbing some Dim Sum down in the famously awesome international district, lounging around, napping, taking long walks through the city and peeing on some sticks. Yes; Saturday will be DPO 15 and official Pee day. This will be our last little mini-exursion for a while due to work schedules and I’m really really hoping that Aunt Flo doesn’t show up and fuck it all up for us. Because as much as I'd like to think (or pretend) that I'm a perfectly emotionally stable person, circumstances (especially THESE circumstances) can really do a number on my moods. and I wouldn't want to rot the good pure soil of Canada with my salty and bitter tears.
Truth is that I've managed once again to convince myself that I'm pregnant. I'm not quite sure how I've fallen back into that routine, but I think it's perhaps better (or at least healthier) than the chronic pessimism and depression I've been experiencing in past recent cycles so I guess I'll take it. Now, as most of you know, I have been notoriously wrong when I've done this in the past, so take this to mean absolutely nothing. I'm either pregnant or I'm emotionally unsound. Or both. It sure would be nice to celebrate some positive news while on our little vacation, though. Just think - I could down a shot of maple syrup and toast to our success and make dramatic exclamations like... "well how aboot that!!! No offense to my northern neighbors, I really do love the Canadians and Vancouver is one of the most lovely cities I've been to.
We'll have our laptop with us so I will surely update you all with my good news on Saturday. If you don't hear from me, it's safe to assume that I've been arrested by the Canadian Mounties and thrown into prison for doing something terribly self-destructive and awful to honor menstruating women everywhere.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
yah yah
I owe everybody an update, I know. I'm terribly, inexcusably delinquent. But I'm going to offer up an excuse anyhow. I was quite sick all of last week and all of my creative juices along with the basic ability to spell simple words correctly were zapped from my cranium completely.
I'm still not 100% but here is an attempt at a bland update.
Well... we have officially made the switch to home insemination's (ie... "the turkey baster method") doing ICI vs. IUI. We have also switched donors. I'm not naming this guy because well... Gabe and Henry never really were all that close to me and and besides, I'm switching EVERYTHING up.
The junk arrived at our house via a Fed Ex man with nice legs (don't all Fed Ex'ers and UPS folks have nice legs? is that one of the official job requirements?) early Sat. morning in a giant box. It was like X-Mas morning in some sick, David Lynch kind of way where I got to open up my big giant box of bodily fluid. From a stranger, no less. :)
The "procedure" as my mom still prefers to call it took place both Wednesday evening and again Thursday EARLY morning. It was like conducting a science experiment only there were no animals injured or killed as a result of this project. For a portion of the time, YES folks, I was actually physically upside-down. I'm not sure if this is entirely necessary but you know... I like to do things as right as seems logically and appropriate in the moment. Drake had to put on gardening gloves when opening the tank because MAN THAT SHIT IS COLD in there! The half-page instruction manual says that you're not supposed to have any of the vials (except for the one you are immediately using) exposed to room temperature for more than 30 seconds so we were acting in haste and rather blindly I might add trying to get that crap out. It took a few tries. We selectively chose our "aspirator" thingie. The one we chose really wasn't probably as long as it needed to be but it was the smallest in circumference and that offered me some comfort, both physically and mentally. I read in a book that many women inject an egg white into there... well, you know... right before hand because it mimics the CM and helps move the sperm along and such. My reaction, once I was done laughing hysterically and making wild hand gestures was... "FOR GOD SAKE, I EAT EGGS!!!" and I wish to CONTINUE to eat eggs. So as much as women have supposedly sworn by this little trick of the trade, I chose to spare myself the embarrassing moment some days down the road when we go out for our usual weekend breakfast and I start gagging or hyperventilating as my plate of scrambled eggs arrive.
Overall, it was interesting. Now we shall just wait and see.
I'm still not 100% but here is an attempt at a bland update.
Well... we have officially made the switch to home insemination's (ie... "the turkey baster method") doing ICI vs. IUI. We have also switched donors. I'm not naming this guy because well... Gabe and Henry never really were all that close to me and and besides, I'm switching EVERYTHING up.
The junk arrived at our house via a Fed Ex man with nice legs (don't all Fed Ex'ers and UPS folks have nice legs? is that one of the official job requirements?) early Sat. morning in a giant box. It was like X-Mas morning in some sick, David Lynch kind of way where I got to open up my big giant box of bodily fluid. From a stranger, no less. :)
The "procedure" as my mom still prefers to call it took place both Wednesday evening and again Thursday EARLY morning. It was like conducting a science experiment only there were no animals injured or killed as a result of this project. For a portion of the time, YES folks, I was actually physically upside-down. I'm not sure if this is entirely necessary but you know... I like to do things as right as seems logically and appropriate in the moment. Drake had to put on gardening gloves when opening the tank because MAN THAT SHIT IS COLD in there! The half-page instruction manual says that you're not supposed to have any of the vials (except for the one you are immediately using) exposed to room temperature for more than 30 seconds so we were acting in haste and rather blindly I might add trying to get that crap out. It took a few tries. We selectively chose our "aspirator" thingie. The one we chose really wasn't probably as long as it needed to be but it was the smallest in circumference and that offered me some comfort, both physically and mentally. I read in a book that many women inject an egg white into there... well, you know... right before hand because it mimics the CM and helps move the sperm along and such. My reaction, once I was done laughing hysterically and making wild hand gestures was... "FOR GOD SAKE, I EAT EGGS!!!" and I wish to CONTINUE to eat eggs. So as much as women have supposedly sworn by this little trick of the trade, I chose to spare myself the embarrassing moment some days down the road when we go out for our usual weekend breakfast and I start gagging or hyperventilating as my plate of scrambled eggs arrive.
Overall, it was interesting. Now we shall just wait and see.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
bountiful
This scene appears in my kitchen about every three days. It's been happening for a while now. All other plants in my garden dwindled, dwarfed, wept and withered without giving it the old college try this summer but my squash plants? Well... they flourished. Holy zucchini did they flourish! Well... at least something in my life is in bountiful supply these days. :)
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
changing
Waxing philisophic for a momment, I feel that my mind has never been more restless. Sleep (and plenty of it) has been my only escape from myself and my exhaustive efforts of trying to push back the negativity that naturally sneaks it's way in - through all of this. Drake and I have been playing at "Operation Get Erin Rae Knocked Up" fast approaching 2 years now. And in that time, we have made at minimum two trips to the clinic monthly, if not more. For nearly 2 years, my life has been dictated by these weekly cycles, focusing, scrutinizing the timing of all things - when to start my fert meds, when to start OPK's, when to start ultrasounds, when to do LH shot, when to pee, when to test? I am so so so fucking sick of counting out days on the god damn calendar. Every calendar I own both electronic and paper has secret symbols scribbled on certain days like "Day 1" or "O" or "Test". Additionally, I've found myself stumped and haulted to do anything productive during that two week wait in between ovulation and testing. I can't start working out until I know if I'm prego cuz you're not supposed to switch up your usual routine; I can't eat healthy or cut back on drinking because you just never know when it will be my last sip of wine or my last slice of nasty goodness before I'm forced to kick it into gear and actually eat a vegetable or god forbid, a peice of fruit! And then when it all fails in the end (and let's face it - it's only EVER failed), I'm too pissed off and depressed to kick start a healthy routine, and so instead I console myself with shitty things. It's my pattern and my crutch, and it's quite literally ruining me, mentally as well as physically. So... the big question mark in the sky is... what the hell now? I've fired my fertility clinic and firmly resolved that I am NEVER going back there as long as I shall live. My donor has suddenly stopped producing any sort of sperm count that is well... worth counting. and on a personal level, I am descending into a pessimistic mess of a beast which surely cannot be good for any sort of reproductive efforts.
Thinking about and researching the @home method. I'm pretty much resolved to kicking the negative influences and stigma's attached to this process out of our lives completely and that includes fertility clinics and sterile white rooms, and violent incompetent doctors weilding contraptions that really shouldn't be thought of or used as weapons. I want to get back to the basics; to temping and peeing on good ol' fashioned OPK's instead of taking pictures of my eggs every month. I have committed to Drake that I will do this just three more times if need be, although truthfully I'm not all that happy about it. Also researching a switch in donors. May even compromise on the race issue if we need to. I'm endeavoring to make some changes; hopefully very positive ones.
Thinking about and researching the @home method. I'm pretty much resolved to kicking the negative influences and stigma's attached to this process out of our lives completely and that includes fertility clinics and sterile white rooms, and violent incompetent doctors weilding contraptions that really shouldn't be thought of or used as weapons. I want to get back to the basics; to temping and peeing on good ol' fashioned OPK's instead of taking pictures of my eggs every month. I have committed to Drake that I will do this just three more times if need be, although truthfully I'm not all that happy about it. Also researching a switch in donors. May even compromise on the race issue if we need to. I'm endeavoring to make some changes; hopefully very positive ones.
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