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Corinne C's Diary Entries Diary Navigation: Choose A Diary Entry -------------------- Latest Entry: 7/25/01 -------------------- 7/22/01 7/3/01 6/24/01 6/5/01 5/29/01 5/8/01 5/3/01 4/13/01 4/4/01 3/27/01 3/13/01 2/22/01 2/15/01 2/9/01 2/4/01 1/27/01 1/15/01 1/8/01 12/29/00 12/19/00 12/12/00 12/8/00 12/5/00 11/27/00 11/11/00 11/7/00 11/5/00 10/30/00 10/23/00 10/19/00 10/4/00 10/2/00 -------------------- Corinne C's Introduction

December 8, 2000

TTC#1 C #14, CD4

Hello everyone,
I know I just wrote recently but I was bored, so I figured I'd gab a bit, throw a few topics out there at you.

TTC Status
Let's see ... well, I am very annoyed with my doctor. First of all, it goes without saying that in the business of TTC, or infertility as the case may be, we have no room for error. Things must always remain consistent and procedures must be carried out to a T if things are to work correctly, in my humble opinion. Well, I say all this because of a screw-up regarding my Clomid dosage and the day I am supposed to start taking it. By way of background, my doctor's office has always instructed me to count day one of my cycle as the first day of heavy flow, AS LONG AS that flow starts in the morning. If the flow starts in the afternoon or at night, I was supposed to count the next day as day one of my cycle. Well, I got AF at 9 p.m. on Monday the 4th, so based upon prior instruction, I counted Tuesday the 5th as day one.

With regard to dosage, with my last two cycles of Clomid, I have been instructed to take one pill two times/day at the same times every day, meaning I take one 50 mg tablet in the morning and one 50 mg tablet in the evening for five days.

Well, today as I was scheduling my ultrasound with the NP, I tell her how I had been instructed and she tells me that I am doing it all wrong. She said that the day I got a heavy flow is the day I need to count as day one, regardless of what time of day AF came. She also told me that I should not be splitting up my Clomid prescription but that I should be taking both pills at the same time. When I heard all of this, I got upset because maybe the reason the IUIs didn't work was because I took the pills the wrong way. Who knows? It could be a remote possibility, couldn't it? Anyway, it just really pissed me off as I have a very low tolerance for incompetence. Is it that hard to get the instructions straight?

As it turns out, I ended up doing just as the NP said after getting responses on my board regarding this subject and after calling my pharmacist. (Thanks for that advice, Tammy!) And that, girls, is my little Clomid debacle. I will have an ultrasound on the 14th to determine follicle size, hopefully be ready for the hCG injection that day or the next, and then have the IUI on or around Saturday, the 16th.

The Election
I never talk about the election 1) because I simply cannot bear to waste a precious moment of my life worrying about something which is out of my control and 2) because I simply don't care anymore. This is the absolute stupidest thing I have ever seen happen in politics (well, maybe not the stupidest) and the way this whole election has panned out makes me feel like we are the Flintstones, carving out our ballots on sheets of rock. I mean, Jesus Christ, hand counting the ballots? What year are we in????

At any rate, I simply felt the need to address the election lest you think I am not interested in current events. Finally, despite many of the Republican views that I have, I would not vote for that boob Bush if Jesus himself were his campaign manager.

Neat Freak
Charles is very neat, neater even than most women, but I am a neat FREAK and a germophobe (is that a real word?) to boot. Charles is always bitching at me that he can't find his things because I have hidden them away. My response is usually somewhere along the lines of "I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone who gives a damn." :o) I'm kidding, of course, but honestly, is it my fault Charles' things are upsetting my sense of order and control? As neat as he is, Charles still has his occasional lapse into sloppiness (how can you wipe a stove down with a wet, greasy sponge? You need Windex for that!) and disorder (since when do an empty glass of diet coke or his stray sock belong on MY dresser!)? I mean, what am I, Job? Was it my lot in life to be born to suffer such indignities???

Do you all understand by now what a pure hell it would be to live with me?

I used to suffer (unofficially) from OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) and I had to have everything just so or I simply couldn't function. I never cared about other people's homes being neat or perfect, that has never bothered me, but in my own home everything had to be absolute perfection. Doorknobs and phone receivers had to be Lysol-ed to death every time I cleaned the house. My eyeglasses had to be washed every night, whether I wore them or not. I had to have the pencils on my desk facing in the right direction, the labels on the soup cans facing toward the front of the pantry and the bathroom hand towels had to be hanging at a certain length. The psycho husband from "Sleeping With the Enemy"? That's me. I have been this way since childhood and for a while there, I never thought I would change.

I know you are all thinking it's actually a good thing I haven't gotten PG yet, but I wouldn't be that way with a baby, I promise. I have actually stopped doing all that stuff I mentioned above 1) because it was wearing me out and 2) because it's sick. It was easier than I thought to stop being so anal, probably because of this stupid commuting and all the turmoil in my life right now. I simply don't have time for such nonsense anymore. There are so many more things in life that matter more than whether my closet contains matching coat hangers (I simply forbid wire, however). The only thing I still do that's weird is when I wash my hands, I must lather and rinse my hands four separate times every time. Same goes for my body when showering. I can't help myself; I feel so filthy being in airports so often.

All this said, I sometimes wonder how my life is going to change when we have a baby. I know you are all thinking that I am in for the rudest awakening ever, and trust me, I KNOW IT. I think I am mentally prepared though. I have cared for many infants in my lifetime (I actually worked two summers in college in a maternity ward as a nurse's aide) and the "mess" that comes along with children has never, ever bothered me. Strange, isn't it? Of course, I'll probably be singing a different tune when our kid pukes up sweet potatoes on our white sofa. Stupidly, a lot of our furniture is white/eggshell. Are we dumb or what?

Oh well, at this point, I would take a hundred ruined sofas, a thousand walls splattered with spaghetti-Os, a million leaky diapers on my rug, if I could just have my baby. I swear, I would never be anal again. Maybe this waiting for a baby is God's way of calming me down a bit and making sure I don't give the kid an acid bath on his first day home! So, here's my favor to all of you: When I finally do have that baby and I have not had the time to shower and my hair looks like crap and I reek and my house looks like a sty, and I am about to crack from the sheer pressure of it all, will one of you slap me and remind me of this moment? I want to make sure I treasure every bit of it.

Until next entry, love ya,
Cori