Tie a string around it, part II

Update on the baby nip:

So I've had the piece of black thread around it for almost two weeks now. In the past few days, I've noticed that the skin tag is hardening a bit, and that it kinda hurts. So, after yoga last night, I did a little work on it. I put a cotton ball of rubbing alcohol on it and it burned! After careful research, I noticed that either it is beginning to fall off or it is starting to attack the string. Yes, the skin-tag-babynip is taking on a whole new obsession for me. I spent about 20 minutes staring at it, tooling with the string, pulling (and can you imagine how dizzy I was? here I am, staring straight down for so long, my eyes were twisted!!!). And then I realized that there is extreme sensation in it still. I mean, WTF?

Oh yes, the story continues.

So then I decided (chickened out) that I was going to take the string off. Well, not possible. I made DH tie the knot as if it were a fishing line, so there's no way this string is coming undone. I searched the house for something, anything, that I could use to pick apart the thread, and all I ended up with was a very very sore nip and babynip, cross-eyed headache, stress, and finally an extreme laughing fit. I am ridiculous, I know.

I'll give it a few more days, but I think I've got an uncomfortable doctor's visit looming because of my take-home surgery skills.

when there is no point in trying...

And I mean that sincerely. This month's cycle has been, well, what cycle? I am not obsessing/stressing about what day it is, what my CM looks like, if I am eating the fertility-friendly foods. I just am, and I am really digging it. I've had more fun this past week than I have in the longest time. I managed to get in a nice Sunday brunch with friends, champagne, and more champagne, I drank with DH several times this past week, mostly just the casual glass of wine or two. Mostly I feel lighter and more free than I have in a long time.

In addition, I managed to come out to two people, one friend of about 3 years, one of about 20, and both offered up their uterus to me and DH. I am pretty sure that they just said that to comfort me, but I love that they love me so much, they are willing to say anything or offer any sort of condolence. I have beautiful and wonderful friends. IF or not, I am pretty darn lucky. I can now actually talk about my diagnosis without weeping, so progress, I say.

On a lighter note, we have our RE consulting appointment next week. All of our records are in the process of being faxed or shipped, so we are all set. DH and I have also began the discussion of adoption/fostering. This whole process is so much more expensive than I had even realized; I am lost as to how the fees can add up. More research is definitely needed on this front.

Progress, I say.

Up all night and totally excited about it

So I spent the overnight on the couch with horrible cramps and mucho bleeding, and somewhere between 3 and 4 O'Clock in the AM, sometime after my 80th ad.vil and 34th al.eve, I got really excited. My period is the problem, not IF, so when I go see the MD in a few weeks, I will make sure that anything, any testing, is coded for heavy periods, heavy heavy cramps, and along with mid-cycle bleeding, there can be no freakin way that the insurance company can deny testing of my fibroids, uterine abnormalities, etc. I mean, sheesh, today I was so tired and loopy from AF that I could barely teach. This is a medical issue, a medically treated condition per the verbiage from my Hu.ma.na docs, not infertility.

So there. Those insurance bitches are covering my whatever (not IVF, of course), and you better believe I will fight to the death for it.

Zen on a Sunday afternoon

I had to stop what I am doing right now and tell you what I am experiencing at this moment: DH is at work and it is just me and the dog. It is 60 something (cold for us in the deep south), the old wood windows are wide open, I'm wearing black fuzzy foot booties, comfy grey pants, a pink t-shirt and a worn-out navy hoodie. My I.POD is blasting my collection of Con.crete Bl.ond loudly and I don't care if I am disturbing the neighbors; they are all probably watching the football game, anyway. I am in the throes of grading some really badly written papers. The air smells crisp and clean, and the kettle on the stove is whistling at me, alerting me it's time for tea.

It's good to be employed, to be in love, to be alive, and to be jamming.

Obesessed? A post in response.

This post is in response to "Obsessed" by http://unproductivelyso.blogspot.com/

Obsessed?

We are XX by nature. The minute we are conceived, our sex determination "allows" us to conceive and carry a child. Then, months later, we are born. It is then that we are gendered female/girl. We are dressed in a pink something or other in the hospital, given a pink tag around our foot, around our wrist. We are told we look "pretty' or "sweet." These terms continue and when we get a bit older, we are given dolls and are told to pretend to be mommies to our doll babies. Some of us are lucky to be given other toys that do not seal our gender, things like guns and trucks and other fun stuff. But mostly, girls/females/XX are told to play house, play dolls, play nice, wear a dress, don't get dirty. Even the tomboy in us is told, at times, to be more "lady-like."

When or if we rebel, we are reverted back to our sex determination, our XX, with the onset of menses. Period. Aunt Flo. The Bitch. Monthly, we are reminded that we can conceive and carry a child. When we get even a bit older, we are careful not to conceive that child just yet, so maybe we quit wearing skirts and playing with dolls, but we are reminded to use protection, get on birth control, keep our legs closed, sit up straight, be feminine. Every month for 7-10 years we are careful not to stain our knickers or stain our reputations.

When it is "time," and we believe we are ready to fulfill our destination, we find our that our gender, our sex, our bodies have deceived us. We are not who we thought we were, and that makes us a bit confused, maybe a bit angry, maybe a bit frustrated. We wonder how or why or what or whatthefuck? Meanwhile, all around us are ladies popping out babies left and right, friends telling us the news that they are "blessed" with a pregnancy?Blessed? (I hate that term because, logically, if someone is blessed with conception, then those of us who don't conceive are not blessed? And then we are spiritually infertile, too?)

For most of us who have the diagnosis of "female infertility," we want answers as to why. Obsession isn't the right word for this. And I am not sure that any one of us IF girls/women have the correct term for it.

appropriate post

Wow, I can't believe how fast this week went by. Monday and Tuesday was fall break from school and teaching, so I was able to catch a nice lunch with wine on Monday, got pretty buzzed on Monday night, and relaxed a bit on Tuesday. DH and I were able to chisel away at the conversation stuff about TTC and I was pretty proud of my ability to hold it together. I am feeling a bit better about the prognosis; I have only freaked out and bawled once this week! Yeah!

But yesterday I started feeling a bit yucky. I think I am coming down with a cold or something. blah! Spot also showed up the past couple of days, so I am now aware of AF's upcoming visit sometime this weekend or early next week.

It rained pretty much all week, and we finally saw temps fall below the 80 degree mark. This morning and today it felt like fall: north wind and all. New season, new attitude, I guess. Let's hope for some happy fall news for everyone. I've got my fingers crossed for you all!

Tie a string around it (TMI post)

So at my annual on Friday, I asked my OB about the mysterious third nipple growing from the side of my left nipple. I joke about it, but in the past year, it really looks like another nipple is growing--full of sensation and all. She diagnosed it as a skin tag and said I could do one of two things. I could see a dermatologist and get it removed, or I can just tie a string around it to cut off circulation, and it will fall off on its own. Huh? You mean like the three stooges, and how they pull teeth with a string and a doorknob?

So this AM, after an exhausting fight/serious conversation, DH and I went for a much needed run. After we both got back and showered, I asked him to tie a string around my baby nip. He looked utterly disgusted, confused, and freaked. Once he got up the courage, I raided my sewing kit, choosing black as the appropriate color, and he tied it up.

Bizarre, no?

the first 24 hours

I guess I am not all that into living dangerously...the extent of my outburst about IF was to drink 3 glasses of Cab and pig-out on chips, dip, and soda.

Wow, I'm soooooo bad.

nah, instead I was the calm, cool-headed gal I pride myself in being: I scheduled my first RE appointment for November 4th, and that'll be $215, please. I'll update it on my running total once I've written the check. It's a consultation. I even asked if I had to get naked for the first visit; the receptionist chuckled a bit. So I've got to get busy in the next few weeks gathering medical records from my doctor and DH's sperm-counter doctor. Hey, how do they count sperm, anyway? Is is like an automated coin counter at the bank? Or does some poor lab assistant/graduate assistant have to sit there and count (one million four hundred thousand fifty-one heads-and-tails sperm in the jar....one million dour hundred thousand fifty-two...)?

I'm feeling better, though I won't lie: I've had crying episodes on and off today, and the party I was supposed to go to this evening will have to party-on without me. I gotta deal, ya know. Gotta deal.

I'm still not sure who I plan to "come out" to. I already told DH that this was none of his crazy mother's business yet, and that if he needed to talk to someone, it better as hell be me first since he never wants to talk. He agreed. I don't mean to sound so pushy, but technically it is my medical condition (wasn't I just complaining that it is actually "ours" last week)? I know, I need to make up my mind.

My award

This is my first award, given to me by the lovely Jill at http://wouldmakethree.blogspot.com/.
I am supposed to list ten things that my readers do not know about me. Hmmm... 1. I am terrified of thunder. I still put my fingers in my ears during thunderstorms, especially in the night. Speaking of storms, one is about to begin very very soon where I'm at, so I better hurry and finish this post to free up my fingers.

2. I am a poet/writer. I haven't finished my first manuscript yet, but have had much success being published in journals throughout the years.

3. Cheese fries are my weak spot.

4. I have two sisters and one brother. One sister has two kids, one sister is infertile, and my brother has had issue with his testicles that make me believe he, too, will have fertility issues. They say that infertility isn't hereditary, but I am starting to believe otherwise. When I ask my mom if she took any medication when she was pregnant with us, she says she can't remember anything about the 70s. Thanks, mom. That's not too helpful.

5. My ne.tflix account has declared me to be someone who "enjoys dark movies with a strong female lead." Sometimes I think my netf.lix account understands me better than anyone.

6. I have been told that my laugh is contagious; I laugh a lot and hard, sometimes accompanied by a snort.

7. I think my chocolate chip cookies are better than any other chocolate chip cookies. Yeah, that's right. I am saying it out loud.

8. I have always wanted to live out of the country for a brief period of time. I don't know if I will ever get the chance to do it.

9. I have contemplated beginning a phd. program in my field. I am struggling with the next steps of my life and am not sure of my heart's desire yet.

10. I like to sing, although I am not good at it, really. Mostly my songs are written and composed on the fly and in my head: a song about my dog's poop, a tune about a friend's name, my fake rendition of an opera song, whatever. I know I am stressed out when I don't find song in something. It's been one of those weeks around here.

My plans

for the next 24 hours, all the things I've denied myself:

Go out to a club tonight, listen to music, breathe in that lovely, sexy, 2nd hand smokey air, drink heavily and I mean shots!!!, then head out to a 24hour diner, eat fried everything, ride on the back of someone's pick-up truck, slap on roller blades, and get dragged (wow, very dangerous), drink 2 pots of coffee in the morning, eat more fried everything, then, when the stores open, go on a wild and crazy shopping spree at Sa.ks (if they'll even let me in--I'll be stinking of smoke and booze and fresh air and fried foods).

Yeah, then I'll scoop kitty liter, spray for bugs (been avoiding those toxic chemicals), eat more fried food, dye my hair (chemicals), paint my nails (more chemicals), then suck down a beer and a shot of whiskey.

((burp))

Yup, I'm gonna go wild.

It's officially official

I've been told that I need to see an RE.

At my visit to the OB, oh, about 30 minutes ago, the doc read my HSG report which basically translates that I've got the one bad tube, one that kinda opened and leaked dye, and reports of fibroids. She said it'll take IVF to increase my chances conconceiving.

IVF.

Yeah, I guess I shouldn't be that upset. It has just been a long 2plus years trying on our own: the charting, the temping, the timed intercourse (not fun, sometimes), the stress, the fights, the "tame" lifestyle-just-in-case-I-got-knocked-up-this-time.

If I can offer any advice to anyone out there TTC, get the info sooner than later. I don't know if the heartache would have been less had I known last year instead of now, but what I do know is that much of what life should be about has taken a back seat to the TTC madness. Maybe I should just live life for a while--stay out later, get drunk again, eat shitty foods again, start shopping again for cute clothes and pay top dollar (because I won't be preggo anytime soon so I will fit into that outfit!!), plan vacations months in advance (because I won't be preggo anytime soon so I will be able to wear a bikini, drink margaritas on the beach).

If we must fight, let it be like...

Today...this morning was a blow-up of huge proportions. My DH and I are like that when it comes to IF related stuff. He never wants to talk about it, or rather, I get the urge to talk and he tends to either 1. listen well (rare) or 2. make some sort of grunt or gesture that says "I am not interested right now." For him, he has this mechanism of only handling X amount of stuff in his mind at one time, and lately, there have been a lot of other things we are dealing with along with IF stuff, such as selling our house, looking for another. He's also a very busy person at his job, and I know the stress of it gets to him.

So, this morning we got some disappointing news about a house we had bid on and were working to short sale it. The deal fell through, and we've had this in the works for months on top of the years we have been taking care of the property due to a negligent homeowner. Boo and hiss. Upon hearing this news, he and I acted disappointed, spoke about a few things, and then I kinda went off. Here's why:

He acted more upset about losing the bid on the house than he ever had dealing with the IF issue. And something inside of me clicked...I mean shut on!!! WTF? I ranted to him about how we keep having disappointments monthly...MONTHLY! I mean, can I get something emotional from him about this? My IF is our life, and most of the time I feel like my IF is only my IF, my problem. His defense was that he thought we were just going to chill out for awhile on the IF issue since we were thinking of buying the new house, etc. WTF? I don't ever remember that conversation.

Most of this craziness is coming from my anticipated visit to the OB on Friday. I think this is the final conversation she and I are going to have concerning my reproductive future. We are finally going to discuss the HSG results and the possible use of Cl.omid. As far as any further IF treatment, I'll need to see an RE which will definately not be covered under my insurance. So many uncertainties, and I am just built to take all of what life throws at me and ingest. Sometimes I wish I could be like DH and tuck some of life's issues away.

mid-cycle, etc

So I am day 12 of this cycle, and all signs look good. I am not sure about anyone else, but for me, right before I ovulate, my body shoots out bright pink blood. What I mean to say is that I'll have a couple of days of eggwhite CM, then O-cramps, then a bright spot of pink watery CM, then several days of brown spotting with EWCM. This has been happening to me for over a year, so inspite of what the internet says about that being an excellent sign of fertility, I am not reaping any benefits from this mid-cycle ghost. Has anyone heard of this personally or know of this happening to anyone who is TTC? When this first started happening, my OB did bloodwork and a vag. ultrasound and all came back fine.

I don't feel so fine about it.

Tonight I participated in a restorative yoga class. When I practice yoga, I tend to lean toward the power/Ashtanga sort: lots of deliberate movement, lots of sweating, lots of discomfort and breathing. It's always suited me. I am also a runner (although not much of one lately).

However, tonight I took a restorative yoga class. These postures are supposed to be non-aggressive, "delicious" as my teacher calls them. Tonight, not so much. In a pose that was suppose to be soothing, I felt intense pressure on my lower back, my lower front parts. I felt very aware, and although I can't say that it hurt, but the consciousness, the awareness of that area hurt; I cried. I know this sounds weird. It feels weird to talk about it. Today, tonight--I feel like I became aware of something inside that hurts. A deep ache. The root chakra ached. I hope I am explaining this well enough. If this is my IF, my block, I've found it. And I am sad about it.