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October 16, 2003
Hi!
Well here it is just past the ides of October and IVF #2 is finally swinging into gear. I had my suppression check on Tuesday and my uterus looks “perfect” as do my ovaries. Now if they’d only perform perfectly for a change! My E2 is 48 (anything under 50 is good) so I’m ready to begin my stims on Friday. My retrieval should be sometime at the end of the month! I’m nervous as can be...not about the procedures, but about the possibilities. I’ve been down this road before and I met hazards that were unexpected—a less than stellar response to the meds, only 9 eggs harvested and worse—only 3 fertilized. I know that IVF #1 is often a huge learning experience and that’s certainly true in my case. But still I’m haunted by the prospects of a repeat performance.
In any event, this entry was not meant to be some self-imposed pity party so on to happier things! Like the fact that my "Talk to Me" button now WORKS. Yehaw! Please come talk to me!
Pick Ax Therapy
Now I know most people who know me think I’m mad when it comes to yard work. Growing up, my sister and I never did any outdoor chores (don’t worry we had lots of the indoor kind). In fact, I avoided the great outdoors as much as possible given my almost phobic fear of snakes (ok, maybe I do need real therapy). Ironically, we’re now both garden fanatics. She tends more toward flowers, but me…I like shrubs and trees. This wouldn’t be a huge issue except CT should be known as the rock capitol of the world. I would like to offer my homestead up as a dramatic example of why it is so amazing that anyone survived in CT before food stores were invented. My yard is 90% rock (the other 10% is gravel ;)). So between the crappy soil and the deer that eat everything, our forefathers must have had a hell of a time providing the basics for survival. When our house was built, they had to blast to lay our foundation and you bet your buttocks that planting anything (even stupid bulbs) is a nightmare.
But silly me loves landscaping. I love that a hand trowel is a useless tool (I’ve bent and broken more than you’d be able to imagine) and instead prefer my trusty sidekick. Mr. Pick Ax. He really can do some damage—that’s a real tool! There is nothing like tearing through the earth with a heavy object to get out your aggressions. Heck, with all the rocks I hit I make some mean sparks. It’s pretty cool. And guess what? Protective eye gear really does matter—they didn’t just make that up for TV! :)
I discovered the art of pick axing a few years ago and it seriously has helped me through some rough patches (no pun intended) of TTC. I don’t need a froo-froo gym or a psychotherapist. What I need is to destroy in order to bring beauty. Because of this, we’ve spent a small fortune on landscaping. I often buy plants that we’ve no need for simply so I can get out some rage via my pick ax. It’s ok, I know I’m crazy!
Last weekend, we plowed through chores like you wouldn’t believe. The garage doors and front door sidelights are freshly painted. We bought a new tree (Zelkova—it’s a Japanese elm I think), a pretty holly, and 91 bags of mulch. We prepared the yard (in the pouring rain) for the new landscaping (I used my mini-pick ax while Chris hogged the big boy) and the next day I replanted a lilac bush, planted three new perennials (gooseneck something or others—very cool looking in any event) and put down about 50 bags of mulch. I was a hurting Jen, that’s for sure. I am covered in bruises (largely due to the rock wall we built the weekend before), but it feels good to have been so active. So if you find yourself stressed or sad, buy a pick ax (they have a small version for you novices) and get to it!
Being Infertile Isn’t All Bad...
Ok, again you’re going to think I’m nuts, but hear me out. There have been some positive things that have come out of my body’s inability to get the job done. I’ve met some great friends (Amanda, Brooke, Connie, Donna, and Minni— you guys keep me going) that I would never have met under other circumstances and have had some good laughs along the way. I assure you that I am NOT some sort of Pollyanna. I’m generally quite pessimistic and downright negative (although I prefer the term pragmatic), but it is true that good often comes out of bad. This is some statement coming from a person whose blood type is B negative (I kid you not!) so believe it!
There have been some funny moments that came out of my IF battles too. Not everyone can say that she almost ran over her Evil Turd of a GYN in the parking lot of Stop & Shop (he crossed BEFORE the stop sign so he was being stupid!). And not everyone has a GYN who half shaves his face, by which I mean one side of his face—as if doing the other side was too much of a chore or something more pressing came along. This is also the man who wears 1970s seersucker pants with striped shirts (stained with iodine) and who talks to himself while examining you or worse has hiccoughs while doing so. I mean, heck, it’s not like he’s going to talk to you to answer questions (seriously, he often didn’t even hear me speak). I wish I had a picture of the look on Chris’ face the first time he saw the guy who checked out his wife’s hoo-ha more than he did. ;) He still is shocked that I would go to such a doctor. But I trust him and he means well (aside from the Evil Turd incident—that’s when he went on vacation a day early and left me in the lurch with my HCG shot) . :)
Let’s see, what else has happened? Oh, during one of my u/s (again at the Evil Turd’s office) some guy walked into the room. Mind you, the table was FACING the door so that guy (I was told he was another doctor, but I have my doubts) got a great view of my goods. Speaking of doctors and my goods, there was the poor clinical fellow (OB-GYN in training to be an RE) who almost started crying when he put a speculum in me to do an IUI and I started gushing blood. Poor guy is probably still traumatized (I know Chris is).
Chris and I too keep things as light and comical as possible. I love Chris’ sperm impersonations (the best ones are the IUI sperm as they hit the uterine wall at great speeds). Just last night he was lamenting my new diet for him while we gorged on yummy desserts at my favorite restaurant-no caffeine or sweets until after the E/R. He insists that will make the swimmers lethargic and he did a hilarious impersonation for me. He does have a compelling point, I guess. ;) We are also entirely juvenile about the s/a and IUI/IVF samples and the need for him to replenish his own supply when I’m not in the mood to. How many couples actually have the conversations that we do on an almost daily basis?!?
I guess what I’m trying to say is that life can’t always be taken seriously and that it shouldn’t be. If pick ax therapy isn’t right for you (i.e. if you suffer from hay fever or have a bad back), then laugh. A lot. With your best friends. It’s as good a cure for the TTC blues as I can find.
So until next time,
Jen
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