if only they knew...

I have just a small anecdote to report that amused the hell out of me so thought I would share here.

Today is/was sperm delivery day. FED EX says that they will deliver between 9am and 12pm. The last two times it arrived at 9:30 so I was hopeful. At 11:58am this morning, I was concerned. At 11:59am, I heard that delicate screeching of the brakes as the FED EX guy pulled up in front of my house. Well... my neighbor's house to be more accurate. My dogs were going ape shit, as is their common practice whenever somebody comes to the door... or near the door, so I stepped outside onto my front porch to spare the poor man's ear drums... and possibly ankles. He took a LONG time getting out of the car and when he did, he waved at me and flashed me a big smile and then proceeded to walk up the drive to my neighbor's house. And I was like... "Um no... hey... yoo hoo! that's for me! I'm not just standing out here in my pajamas for my health, you know!" and he waved at me again and continued to walk toward their door. And so I did what logically comes next and I burst into song. "THAT SPERM IS MINE! THE DOGGONE SPERM IS MINE!" to the tune of Michael Jackson's "The Girl is Mine". And in my best falsetto. This caught his attention and he looked over at me, busted the dolphin dive down into the centipede and eventually made it over to my porch with my giant box of sperm. He was apologetic and a little embarassed I think. and out of breath. So I signed for my sperm and wished him a good day.

That was not the anecdote. That was the lead up to the anecdote. THIS is the anectdote.

At 12:07pm I posted a status update to my facebook page saying this:

"Erin is finally getting out of the house.
Damn FED EX guy took FOREVER!"

When I got home at 4:30pm today I had many new comments in response to that status.

"That comment opens so many possibilities ;-)"

"well at least he isn't selfish?"

"Um, does Drake know about this?"

"Welcome to the innuendo cafe."

and so on. What I find hillarious about this is none of them have any idea what that FED EX guy was actually delivering. And I don't plan on telling them. But oh, I am laughing inside. If they only knew...

Last Call for Alcohol

I have entered into the 2am (okay, 1:59am BAR TIME) last call for alcohol hour; the last ditch effort on this god forsaken journey into fertility. Or not. I am all at once heartbroken, relieved, tentative and free. I am all of the emotions that are embodied in a giant "sigh"... if you will.

So here's the long and full story of what's to come. Frankly, something I've been dreading putting into writing for a long time now... but the time has essentially arrived and it's probably best to embrace the truth of our future versus imbibe copious amounts of beer, wine and tequila and deny that this is all happening. Oh wait... I think I meant to say simply "deny that this is all happening". The wine and tequila can stay, in consideration of that "misery loves company" bit.

So remember that Second String Womb? offer? Well... we're most likely going there. Let's face it, we *are* going there. And if I may digress for a bit, let me attempt to put this into perspective. I do not want to consider this quitting. I am not a quitter. I am a practical, if not a little strange, person. I am a practical and strange person who has donated no less than 17K into this "project" over the past 1.8 years all the while gas prices are skyrocketing, companies are cutting millions of jobs nation wide, there are people who are struggling to feed their families and stay above water; suffering. To put a finer point on it, George W. Bush has made a heaping pile of steaming shit out of this country and it's affecting everybody around me and I'm nonchalantly spending a grand + a month to squirt some strangers sperm into my broken ovaries. Sure, call me a bleeding heart liberal (cuz I basically am), call me somebody who is transferring, etc. but the point is, I feel guilty as hell! Yes, we are incredibly lucky and blessed in that we can afford this, but at what point do you pull the plug? Cut your losses? Accept Plan B? After 2 years, I guess. At least that's the answer we've mutually come to. And while Drake is older than shit (well... okay, she's only got 9 months on me! :)), she is in the best shape of her life and she's a perfectionist who always gets the job done right... and usually on the first time. She's a fixer. and I need this fixed. So, it makes sense to pass the baton and get this fucking job done. The goal is to have a child between us who will be equally ours, so it doesn't / shouldn't / DOESN'T matter if it's not of my own body or gene pool. The truth is I will probably love it even more if it isn't! Because it will of course, be less fucked up. Hell, if genetics have anything to do with it, it will be perfect! A perfect little miniature offspring of the love of my life. Who wouldn't want two?

So that's the deal. I'm done with the mind-fuck, the perfectly timed and portioned pineapple consumption, the pills, the psycho-somatic waddle, the roller-coaster, and the tired excuses. I'm going to pee freely without sticks or checking toilet paper! Yes... I'm going to live and piss freely!!!

As for the future of this blog, well, I'm still undecided. I may continue to chronicle this journey through Drake's eyes or I may have her do it herself. She's an incredible writer although she uses a LOT of REALLY big words! :) I'll get back to you on all that.

update

I am not pregnant. Again. What is perhaps more unnerving is that I am now officially entering into my very last cycle. Last try. My time's up. Will post more details on that later but wanted to update everybody.