Cookie All Clear!

The numbers for my three hour glucose test came back and I do not have gestational diabetes. Thank you cookie Gods! No u/s at my doctor's appointment today, but I did hear Max's heartbeat. The doctor said I'm doing great! Only about 10 more weeks to go.

Alien Baby Checks In

There is a very nice girl I know with two beautiful daughters and a very handsome son. Her son was born within the last few months. Shortly before she gave birth, she posted a video to her blog of her belly. Now this girl works very hard at staying fit and slim and stayed that way throughout her pregnancy. In the video, you can see her belly move pronouncedly from the baby moving. When I watched it the first time, I was a little disconcerted. It made me sort of grateful that, in the words of the radiologist, I'm "fluffy." I figured I probably wouldn't be able to see my stomach respond to all the baby acrobatics.

Yesterday, I was sitting on my couch watching the Denver-Buffalo game (THANK YOU BUFFALO! GO CHARGERS!) when all of a sudden I saw my stomach jump. Holy crap was it freaky! I made J watch and it happened again and he saw it -- though he wants to know why he should believe me that it was the baby and not just some particularly bad gas. As freaky as it was, and it really was freaky, it was also really beautiful and amazing and I cannot wait to see it again!

Cookies Are the Reason for the Season

I knew that if I conceived booze was off limits. And I knew there would be other things off limits, too, but I didn’t really have a grasp on how long a list it was. Now I know that with some of these things it’s more about moderation than full abstinence, or it’s more suggested than required, or still being further investigated, but they are still things “to be avoided.”

Let’s see, there’s 1) booze, 2) ibuprofen, 3) caffeine, 4) artificial sweeteners, 5) lunch meats, 6) hot dogs, 7) certain types of herbal teas, including green tea, 8) raw meat/sushi (also rare meats like a medium rare hamburger), 9) tuna, or other fish high in mercury; 10) raw eggs, or foods made from raw eggs like custards, 11) unpasteurized cheese/dairy products, and 12) all the others I’m forgetting.

List item No. 1 left me a bit sad (oh how I love you red wine) and looking for a happiness replacement. But I couldn’t even turn to items No. 3, 5 and 6 as substitutes. Oh sad day! So I turned to cookies. I’m really not much of a sweets person, so it’s not like I’ll down a carton of Costco cookies in a sitting, but a cookie here and there does help generate the smiles. Especially at Christmas. We all know that it’s really cookies that are the reason for the season.

So even though it’s football season and I can’t drink beer, and even though it’s the holiday season and I can’t drink wine, at least I have cookies, right? RIGHT? Well, actually, maybe not.

I had my first gestational diabetes screening last Friday, the one hour glucose test, and I failed. Ack! Now, not all hope is lost. I have the three hour follow up test this Friday. There are many women that fail the one hour and pass the three hour with flying colors. Please please please think good thoughts that I’m am one of these women. Because, well, I freakin’ deserve some holiday cookie happiness!

Nicknames

The baby will be named Max. Just Max. Not Maxwell, not Maxfield, not etc.. It's a family name. My Mom's brother is Max, but they called him Maxie growing up and still do, so I'm sure we'll call the baby Maxie, especially since we are already calling the puppy Maxie.

J and I have taken to calling the baby Maxie Pad - which is good because then by the time his classmates do it, he'll be desensitized and can say, "Ya, good one, so original." But it's also bad, very bad, because how do you explain to a kid what a MaxiPad is?

The last few days I've been calling him Maxie Bear. Like Teddy Bear, since his middle name is Theodore after Roosevelt. J says that is exceptionally lame. Thoughts? What would you call him? Our friend Phil wants to call him Teddy Max, says it's cool, I have no idea why he thinks it's cool? What am I not getting here?

Favorites

Me: What was your favorite toy as a child?

J: I don't know.

Me: I always liked my Tinker Toys.

J: Well then mine would be my Lego blocks. I'd create little towns with their own economies and the blue people would oppress the red people. The red people were always the ones that died when the aliens attacked.

You can’t understand until you’re a Mother. You’ll understand when you’re a Mother. Until you’re a mother, you won’t understand.

Ever since my first few friends or similarly aged family members had their first children, I’ve been hearing the above. In the beginning, I was just all, yeah yeah yeah, whatever. Sure, the comments are a wee bit annoying for a non-Mom to hear, but when you aren’t looking to have a kid anytime soon, you can easily suffer through them.

It’s a different story when your dealing with infertility. Or even if you’ve made a decision not to have kids. Some statements can be true. They can be the most true things you’ve ever heard. You can hear them and know they ring with truth. But it doesn’t make them easy to hear or even okay things for someone to say.

Expecting Max is the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me. But it doesn’t erase all the hurt, all the memories of three plus years of infertility. Even the “you’ll know soon enough” comments are hard. Because you know what, if it hadn’t been for those three years of heartache, I’d know now. I don’t mean to say that I’m not very lucky. I am. And I don’t mean to say that I still hurt the same way women still struggling with infertility hurt. I don’t. But I do know how they are hurting, I remember it. I was there. And I’m going to try to keep on remembering so that I don’t hurt someone with my words.

Mmmm, tasty baby legs.

Sauteed Baby Legs with Tomato Garlic Butter

1 pound large baby legs
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon Essence
1/4 cup unsalted butter
1/4 cup minced shallots
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1/2 cup chopped fresh tomatoes, peeled and seeded
Salt, to taste
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh parsley leaves

Directions

Cut the baby legs in half. Season both the legs and flour with Essence. In a large saute pan, over medium heat, melt the butter. Dredge the baby legs in the seasoned flour and shake to remove any excess flour. Add the baby legs to the hot pan and saute until golden, turning as needed, about 2 to 3 minutes each side. Add the shallots and garlic and saute for 1 minute. Add the tomatoes, season with salt and pepper, and cook for 1 minute. Add the wine, simmer for 2 minutes, then stir in the parsley. Remove from the heat and serve.

How To Make Your Husband "Uninterested" in You

Tell him you sent a picture of yourself to his Mom so she could see your pregnancy belly, and that she wrote back and wants to know if he can see how much you resemble his sister in the picture.

When Your Parents' Dog and Your Fetus Have the Same Name

Poor puppy Max bit into an electrical wire yesterday, was electrocuted, suffered pulmonary edema and almost died. Fortunately, he pulled through after 24 hours at the vet hospital on oxygen. We found out this morning that he's doing much better. He's home now and seems to be doing ok.

Last night, I called J at work close to tears and said, "Max might die." Needless to say, J was a bit freaked out. Poor J.

He looks perfect and let me tell you why ...

I had a routine appointment with my obstetrician on Tuesday. He did a quick ultrasound and there is still a baby inside me. Yay! While I am feeling Max move at this point, it’s not with any regularity and, as a new time mom-to-be, I start questioning whether what I’m feeling is really movement. It was nice to see a heartbeat on the monitor.

Rain in San Diego is, sadly, very rare. While I love the rainy weather, I have to admit it wreaks havoc on the streets and freeways here. I was about 5 minutes late for my appointment. My doctor was about 40 minutes late. When he walked into the exam room, he immediately apologized and explained he’d been busy counting the white dots he was slowly driving by on the freeway. When he said this, I blurted out, “Oh, on the 56!” He looked at little perplexed at how I might know that, but admitted that yes it was the 56. To which I mumbled something about how I sit in the 56 traffic every day, it’s always bad. Which IS true.

But, ok, how did I know he meant the 56? Uhh, well, that’s because I looked up his medical license with the state medical board and he listed it under his home address. Come on, you can’t fight that kind of temptation. Of course I Google Mapped it and looked at the aerial photos of his house. Admit it, you would have done the same thing. Everyone wants to know just how grand a style their doctor lives in.

Despite being 40 minutes late with 28 appointments that day, and probably thinking I was a stalker, my doctor very kindly spent some time pointing out different things on the ultrasound monitor and telling me everything looked perfect and why he knew everything looked perfect. Something about the heart and the chamber and the fluid around it and the amniotic fluid. Sorry for the hazy science details, but when you’re looking at your baby, and wondering if your doctor is going to change his locks that night, it’s hard to concentrate on much else.

They Really Do Laugh at You

When I was in high school, I would sometimes wonder if teachers would talk about students outside of class, if they would share gossip and humiliating stories. Back then, I gave my teachers almost priest like characteristics. Surely it was all kept in confidence. WRONG! They are talking about you (or they did), most of the time with much laughter!

I spent an enjoyable afternoon yesterday at my friend Amy's house and after the kid birthday party fun had died down, a few of us adults, some high school teachers, sat around talking about the upcoming election. We expectedly got onto the topic of Prop 8, but then somehow wandered our way around to high school sex education classes and some of the funnier sexual queries of the high school Sophomore. One thing no one in the room seemed to know any better than these students was the nutritional content of semen.

As I said I would, I did a bit of research this afternoon on the topic. There are a few contradicting answers out there. One site says a tablespoon of semen contains approximately six calories, another that a teaspoon of has 5-7 calories. The general consensus is that the caloric value is very low, with next to no fat. As to the Weight Watcher point value, I'd advise one to consider it 0 points, unless copious amounts are being consumed. There are those hard core Weight Watchers, however, that believe that no non-vegetable food is 0 points. In which case, I would recommend journaling it as .5 points.

Jon Hamm's John Ham - Finally, ham you can eat in the bathroom.

It's probably a good thing that I'm having a boy. When he's 12, we'll have the same sense of humor.

Do leprechauns get angry when you make fun of their height? Yeah, but only a little!

I haven’t updated this blog for awhile because there isn’t much exciting going on. With regard to Max, I spoke to the nurse today, after a short game of telephone tag, regarding the Maternal Serum Alpha-Fetoprotein Test (aka AFP) (which mainly tests for neural tube defects). The test results were negative which is great.

I posted a few weeks ago a scanned copy of an ultra sound photo from the Anatomy Scan Ultrasound. In general, the scan went well. They did locate what is known as a soft marker for Downs Syndrome. This does not mean that Max has Downs, and it probably means nothing at all, but one of the things they look for during the scan to diagnose Downs is the length of the femur. Max’s femur length is running a wee bit small. It only increases the chances of Downs from 1 in 6500 per the Nuchal Fold Screen, to 1 in 4500, and as neither J nor I could ever claim to be tall, and J actually has incredibly short legs, we are betting on it just being genetics.

An Amniocentesis would give a very accurate diagnoses one way or the other, however, the risk of miscarriage after an amnio is 1 in 400. Because the odds of Max having Downs are currently at 1 in 4500, they would lose 10 healthy babies performing an amnio to find one with Downs. Woah, I know, way too much math.

Of course, I’d have preferred them to have found nothing out of the ordinary with the scan, but we are staying positive. As J said, I do come from a long line of Irish leprechauns.

Honesty.

Me: Sometimes I get sad when people talk abut their twin pregnancies.

J: Sometimes I get sad when people talk.

Woolworth's hamburgers are people!

Me: I had a dream last night that I went to a Woolworth's cafe with my sister. A guy told us the hamburgers were really good and the secret was they used unwanted dogs to make them, that they would get dogs from the pound or people that didn't want them anymore. So then my sister went out to our car and got Wolfie, because she wanted them to make a burger out of him. And I had to fight her, because I didn't want them to kill Wolfie.

J: That's funny, I also had a dream last night about the Woolworth's cafe, but they made their hamburgers out of unwanted people, so I went outside and got your sister.

Meet Max Theodore!

Baby's Sex?

I have an appointment this Thursday for an anatomy scan ultra sound. In addition to learning the baby has the correct number of toes, I'm also hoping to learn the sex. I've started a poll to the left of my blog. If you have a feeling one way or the other, please cast your vote. My friend, C, has been insisting for several weeks now that it's a girl, and she does appear to have "the gift," but don't let that sway you.

I was tempted to give a third voting option, something to do with extra terrestrial genitalia, but I know my friends too well. Don't I?

Oh, Mohinder, what have you gone and done now? (Poss. Spoilers)

One of the shows J and I both watch is Heroes. The other night, the character Suresh injected himself with the special "you too can be a hero" formula he had discovered. After injecting himself, he had some crazy seizures that contorted his body and then he fell to the ground. I turned to J and said, "Uh oh, he's gone and injected himself. What do you think his power will be?" J responded, "Weren't you watching? He now has the power of dance."

Happy Birthday J!

I love you J, bad attitude and all.

Whippersnappers

While perusing the Blu-Ray DVDs the other day, I got into a conversation with a Costco employee over the battle between Blue-Ray and HD DVD, at one point commenting, “You’re probably too young to remember Betamax and VHS” (referring to the early 80s battle between the two video tape formats). She resoundingly responded, “I remember VHS!”

Of course, she had no idea to what Betamax referred. I gave a brief recount of the technology and, when she announced she was 20, I told her that explained why she wasn’t familiar with it. Then she asked, in almost an accusatory fashion, “Why, how old are you?”

I wish I could do justice in describing the look of alarm that crossed her face when I told her I was 34. I was so taken aback that I felt the need to assure her that that really wasn’t that old. I knew I should be pleased at her disbelief that someone so young looking could be in her mid thirties, but it was hard to get over her horrified gasp.

I felt old again a few days later when I was shopping in the Nordstrom shoe section and heard the shitiest cover ever of, 'Boys Don't Cry." It made me sad to think there is some teenager out there downloading that crappy cover and wondering who the heck The Cure is.

Always for the Dogs!

I volunteer with Southern California Keeshond Rescue. All three of my dogs are Keeshonden mixes, and Wolfie and Karl were adoptees/referrals from this rescue group. The group is currently entered into a contest with other shelters and rescues sponsored by Care2 to win a prize of $10,000. Voting does require entering an email address and zip code, but if you feel inclined to vote for us, please do so!

Wolfie also says please! (And go Chargers!)

Butterfly Kisses

In the interest of documentation ... I JUST FELT MY BABY FOR THE FIRST TIME!

I had, of course, read that the first feelings are a sort of a fluttering, or like popcorn popping. But since I've never popped popcorn in my uterus before, I really had no idea what to expect. I was just sitting at my desk working when I felt something in my abdomen on my left side, like someone giving me butterfly kisses from the inside. I had to stop for a second and concentrate to make sure it wasn't just a vibration from the jack hammering that is going on outside my office window.

When I realized what it was, I had the exact same feeling I had when I first saw the positive on the pregnancy test. **Happy sigh.**

The sky is falling! The sky is falling!

I know that too much web searching can be a bad thing, but I’m also all for being as informed as possible. The question becomes, where does a person draw the line? A few years ago, I had some abdominal pain. It turned out to be referred pain from a herniated disc which was made much better through physical therapy, but after web searching my symptoms, I was convinced I was dying of cervical cancer. Lately, I’ve been drawing the line at cancer.

On Thursday afternoon, I realized that for the last two days I had had an increase in vaginal discharge. (I know, you should really get a warning before words like “vaginal” and “discharge” are thrown out, especially when they are used together. My apologies.) Of course, I did a Google search on “increased vaginal discharge” and a litany of horrors was revealed, the scariest for me was a possible amniotic fluid leak. Nearly everything I read said that an increase was cause to telephone your doctor. So I telephoned my doctor.

Nurse Arlene called me back at the very end of the day and she was about as warm and comforting as a cactus. The end result of our conversation was that there were no doctors in the office and I should go to the hospital emergency room to make certain I wasn’t leaking amniotic fluid.

Hospital emergency rooms are not fun places, especially when everyone in them looks like they are knocking on death’s door, so much so that you are afraid to pick up a magazine because you really don’t know who might have touched that magazine. And it certainly doesn’t help one’s nerves when the television is turned to some sort of scary ass movie about someone being murdered in a swimming pool, aliens and tracking devices. What about some Golden Girls, or Wheel of Fortune?

I checked into emergency at about 5 p.m. and left just before 10:30 p.m. with no real answers. They did a pelvic exam, swabbed me six ways from Sunday, and even catheterized me and took a urine sample. Ow ow ow ow! I had no discernable infections, my cervix appeared closed, and a Nitrazine Test was negative for amniotic fluid. (A Nitrazine Test involves collecting vaginal discharge with a swab and placing it on a peace of litmus paper to check the Ph. Typical discharge is acidic, whereas amniotic fluid is alkaline.) I was discharged from emergency and told to follow up with my obstetrician in 1-2 days.

I left emergency still very concerned and, as instructed, contacted my doctor’s office the next day. Again, Nurse Arlene returned my call and was just as prickly and condescending as ever. She arranged for me to see one of the doctors on Monday (today) and instructed me to spend the weekend off my feet. For me, this translated into laying on my couch sobbing. Sorry J.

I don’t know what it’s like to lose a baby, and I hope I never do, but I now know what it’s like to think you’re going to lose your baby and it is not a good thing. No amount of assurance helps. You worry. A lot. There is no way not to worry, well, getting pissed off Ed Hochuli for being an incompetent ass does take your mind off of things a bit.

(Here I will quickly note how one can skew web search results, because after this weekend, I have a lot of experience with it. If you search “increased vaginal discharge” and “cramping,” there are some rather reassuring entries that talk about these symptoms being a normal part of pregnancy. If you search “amniotic fluid leak,” “increased discharge,” and “cramping,” you’ll come across some very sad and disconcerting stories.)

I am very happy to report that my worrying was needless. I saw a doctor today who performed a Fern Test, a pelvic exam, and an ultrasound and there is no reason to believe I’ve had a rupture. (A Fern Test involves smearing the discharge on a slide and viewing it through a microscope. If amniotic fluid is present, it will crystallize into a fern pattern.) Not only were there no indications of a leak, my cervix is looking nice and long. I know, I know, I really should give you some warning.

Here’s a picture of Frax from today – still the cutest fetus ever!

The Art of Critical Thinking

Me: So, what do you think it is, a boy or a girl?

J: I don't know.

Me: What do you want it to be?

J: I don't care.

Me: You used to say girl? Do you want a girl?

J: Sure, I guess . . . though statistics do show that it is generally less expensive to raise a boy.

Equality for All

On Sunday, a family from the same housing development came by my house to talk to me about California Proposition 8. I don’t have all the Proposition numbers down quite yet and told him I wasn’t familiar with it, which gave him a perfect entry into telling me how it was designed to protect marriage and so on. Proposition 8 would amend the California Constitution to specify that marriage is between a man and woman.

After arguing his position and handing me some literature, he asked me how I thought I would vote. I really wanted to give him a good lecture on how ugly intolerance is, but I just told him I didn’t give out that information, thanked him for stopping by and sent him on his way.

I know I wouldn’t have swayed his opinion, someone that feels so strongly about something they are going door to door to talk about it with neighbors wasn’t going to give a flying, well, you know what about my arguments, but I still felt bad that I didn’t speak up about how much I disagreed with his position and why. In a small attempt to make amends for my silence – for not sticking up for the position I know to be the just one – I made a monetary contribution to the Vote No on Prop 8 campaign. Considering there are people like this family going door to door, I’m sure they can use all the help they can get and I would encourage you to contribute if you can.

What? No Ultrasound?

I had a doctors appointment today, my 15 week appointment. I’ve had an ultrasound at every appointment thus far and was really hoping for another today, nothing beats getting to see sweet little Peanut, Jr., so I was a bit disappointed when the nurse put me in a room without an ultrasound machine. Oh well, it’s not like I haven’t had more than my fair share.

Today’s appointment consisted of my doctor asking how I was doing, me saying fine, and a brief listening of the fetal heartbeat. I wonder how much he gets to bill for this?

Though I would have enjoyed seeing the baby, it was nice to hear its heart beat for the first time (well, not the part where the doctor couldn’t find it, but after that). Its heart rate was at 155, which is perfectly normal. There was even a brief little sound which the doctor said was a kick. How cute! Cutest fetus ever, right?!

There’s an old wives’ tale that a heart rate over 140 indicates it’s a girl. Science doesn’t really back this up, but my sister says Natalie was over 140 and Nicholas under. I’ve repeatedly referred to Frax as a he, but I haven’t been as good at this gender guessing thing as I used to be.

My next appointment is with the genetics department for an anatomy scan on October 2. This ultrasound should, knock on wood, reveal the sex. The notes in my expectant mother folder for the anatomy scan tell me to bring a VHS tape if I’d like a video of the ultrasound. Do they still sell VHS tapes?

On the same day as the anatomy scan, I will have blood drawn for an AFP Screening for Spinal Bifida. I made the mistake of reading about Spinal Bifida today after scheduling the appointment. Ugh, there really are way too many things an expectant mom can worry about.

Sheepish Grin

I just want you to know, I feel a lot better today.

Would You Like Some Cheese

I haven’t posted in a few days because I’ve been debating whether it’s better to not post at all, or to write something filled with whining and annoying self pity. I finally decided to just go ahead and publish the pity post, because maybe it would make me feel a tiny bit better.

For the first 10 or so weeks of this pregnancy, I was tired all the time, had some food aversions and had some constant general queasiness. Round about week 12, I started to have a little bit more energy. Because I was approaching my second trimester, I thought this was the beginning of the end of feeling bad – that my energy would come back and the queasiness would go away. Well, I do feel a bit less tired, but the morning sickness has gotten worse. I’ve started actually puking, and when I’m not puking, I feel like I’m going to puke.

Today, in addition to the horrible nausea, I have a headache. I took a Tylenol and it went away for about an hour and a half, but now it’s back. Headaches are particularly hard right now because all the hormones running through me reactivated my TMJ and headaches now involve both an aching head and an aching jaw. Fortunately, I was fitted for a mouth guard a couple of years ago and have been wearing it regularly which seems to help a bit with the TMJ.

I know that I’m very lucky to be pregnant, to have this opportunity, and I know that I used to be jealous of people with morning sickness, but that just makes the situation worse, like of all people, I should be grateful and not complain. I figured J was the one person I could complain to, that he would just listen to me and agree about how awful it must be to be me. Instead I get comments like, “You’re the one that wanted the baby.” Oh my God, how infuriating he can be! I know this analogy is a stretch, but it makes me envision going skiing, and breaking my neck, and then complaining to J that I can’t move any of my limbs and him saying, “You’re the one that wanted to go skiing.” Because that is totally something he would say.

Lazy Baby

I had the ultrasound portion of the nuchal translucency screening today and it went very well. While the screening cannot confirm or rule out Down Syndrome or Trisomy 18/13, it does provide a fairly accurate determination of risk.

The nuchal fold measurement was 1.6. When combined with the results of the blood work which tests for levels of hormones, primarily hCG and PAPP-A, the risk of my baby having Down Syndrome is 1 in 6,841, and the risk for Trisomy 18/13 is 1 in >10,000. These are great numbers and J and I were very happy about the results.

The ultrasound took quite awhile because the baby was laying against the wall of the amniotic sac that is adjacent to the still present sac of Baby B. Afraid of over measuring the fold because of the baby’s position, the technician kept jostling, to little avail, my abdomen to get the baby to move away from the wall.

And here is the requisite “alien baby” ultrasound picture:

Happy Belated Birthday Kara!

Yesterday was my friend Kara's Birthday. Happy Birthday Kara!

Passive Aggressive Birthday Wishes

I mentioned to J yesterday morning that I have a birthday coming up in a few days. He asked what I wanted as a present. Several years ago, J announced that for my birthday he would have my college diplomas framed so I can hang them in my office. I’m still waiting. Every year, as a joke, he offers to get my diplomas framed for my gift.

This time, when he asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I said, “I want to feel special.” I thought this was a perfectly good answer. I don’t really care what he buys or does, just make me feel special. But I believe this is the kind of request that guys just don’t understand so, of course, J responded by asking, “What can I buy you that would make you feel special?”

I couldn’t resist telling him that I didn’t want to ask for anything specific because then I probably wouldn’t get it, the diplomas being framed as a an example. And then he accused me of passive aggressive birthday gift requesting. So then I asked for my diplomas framed, which made us both laugh.

The Results of My Torrid Love Affair with Mr. Peanut

I am 11 weeks and 6 days and had my 12 week doctors appointment this morning. My doctor is very understanding of how nervous moms-to-be can get and does an ultrasound at every check up. Today's ultrasound looked great. It was the first time where it really looked like there was a tiny baby inside me. I got to see its head, belly, heartbeat and limbs, and even got to see it arch its back. It was all very sweet, though, in the pictures, it does bear a striking resemblance to Mr. Peanut.

My next check up with my doctor is in 3 weeks, but I have another ultrasound on Monday with the genetics department as part of the nuchal translucency screening. The nuchal screen is done to determine the likelihood of certain chromosomal abnormalities. The equipment used for the nuchal sceen ultrasound is more advanced than that at the doctor's office so we should be able to see quite a bit of detail. I'm very excited for it. We'll have an anatomy scan in the same genetics department at 18 weeks which should tell us the sex (September 30th, J's Birthday!).

Behold the cutest fetus you will ever see:

Rare Moment of Sweetness

I like my niece, Natalie, a lot. She's witty, smart and funny, and I just adore her. She's soon to be 11 and is far more sarcastic than sweet, which is probably why J finds her so amusing. They are so much alike it's scary. You would never ever say she was a sweet girl.

She loves penguins and the other day she came across a penguin onesie online that she wanted to buy for my baby. A rare moment of sweetness. She showed it to my sister and then asked if my sister thought she'd be invited to the shower. Of course she would be, but my sister didn't want to make promises and said she assumed she would be but didn't know for sure.

My niece's response showed her more typical side, "You mean I'm going to pay shipping and handling and I'm not even gonna get to go to the shower?"

Now that's the Natalie I know and love!

This Week's Activity: Reach out to other moms

I receive an update once a week from BabyCenter.com explaining the details of my pregnancy that week – what size my fetus is, where it is in development, certain things I can expect to experience. I think a lot of you probably received these emails when you were pregnant.

Although he doesn’t get a weekly email, J has taken it upon himself to visit the BabyCenter website once a week so he, too, is kept abreast of my pregnancy’s progress. It leads to some fairly entertaining conversations. Two weeks ago, he announced out of no where that I was supposed to buy some new bras and panties. What?

Today we had this dialog:

J: It says here you should be reaching out to other moms. Have you been reaching out to other moms?

Me: Sure

J: I don’t think you have. Your putting your baby at risk. BabyCenter says you should be reaching out!

So, Moms, I am reaching out to you. Do you feel it, all the wonderful warm ooey gooey reaching outedness?

Baby > Beer

I made my first baby purchase a few days ago online. It came today and I love it. Unfortunately, little Fr-ax will be born right before baseball season, so it’ll be a year before I can put it to use. Still, I’m very excited about it.

While online, I tried to find some Chargers or Steelers maternity wear. Apparently there is no such thing as NFL maternity gear, which is a total bummer. They had a few unofficial items on Café Press, but I wasn’t sure how J would feel if I were to walk around with a No. 7 on my belly. (I ♥ Big Ben!)

This will be my first football season in years without beer. Sniff.

Greatest Gift

After several discussions, I believe J and I have settled on a girl name and a boy name. The girl name was fairly easy. Frances for a first name, after my Dad, his middle name, and Gidget. The original Sandra Dee movie Gidget which I highly recommend, not the later Sally Fields TV show. In the movie, Gidget's parents call her Francie and that’s what I plan on calling the baby if it’s a girl. The middle name will be Elizabeth after J’s Mom, her middle name.

Deciding on a boy name was a much more laborious process. I’ve wanted to use the name Max for a first name for many years now, after my Uncle, my Grandfather, my Great Grandfather and so on. J wasn’t a fan of the name, but as you know, my parents recently got a dog named Max and the mere prospect of teasing his son about being named after Grandma and Grandpa’s dog cinched it for J.

After deciding on the first name, we went back and forth on middle names, J turning down every suggestion I had. I finally asked him to think of some famous people in history whom he respected. His first suggestion was Winston, for Winston Churchill, but that wasn’t a favorite of mine. The next suggestion was Theodore for Teddy Roosevelt. Max Theodore has a certain distinguished ring to it so Max Theodore it is. Our son will be named after my parents’ dog and the twenty-sixth president of the United States. And coincidentally, our friend Ted and his cat.

I researched the meanings of the names. Frances relates to France or franc which means free. Elizabeth means God is plenty or God is bountiful. Max means the greatest, and Theodore means God’s blessing or God’s gift. You can’t really do much with Frances Elizabeth, but the two names Max and Theodore taken together would mean greatest blessing, or greatest gift. I thought that was kind of sweet.

Unfortunately, I made the mistake of sharing this with J who immediately said that we’d have to choose a different name if I was going to start associating it with that kind of hippie bullshit.

Reinstituting the Chicken Ban

I spent last night learning how to make tamales with my good friend, Amy. Hi Amy! Amy is showing off her husks in the picture to the right.

We both had a wonderful time making crab tamales, pork tamales, sweet potato tamales, chicken chile verde tamales, and my absolute favorite, pineapple and macadamia nut tamales (with whip cream). Yum yum. We have plans in the works for a tamale making party soon so if you are lucky enough to be a local friend, you may be in for some tamale treats in the near future.

In addition to making one of each type of tamale--which wasn’t nearly has hard as I had expected, time consuming, yes, hard, no--we also got to eat one of each tamale. I’ve spoken already about my chicken and barbecue sauce pregnancy aversions. I should expand on the barbecue sauce aversion and say it’s really an aversion to anything with cumin in it, including chili powder. Blechity blech. Despite my “ban,” I had a few bites of the chicken verde tamale and a small nibble of the pork tamale which was seasoned with chili powder.

I’ve done a little bit of reading about morning sickness (aka pregnancy sickness) and there are still at least two competing theories as to the cause. One theory is that morning sickness is simply your body reacting to the increased levels of hormones in your system. Another theory is that it’s your body keeping toxins and, well, less friendly foods, perhaps foods harder to digest, out of your system. I had always been more of a believer in the hormone level argument, but after the horrible stomach ache I had last night when I went to bed, I’m starting to think that chicken and chili powder are evil evil toxins that should never ever be consumed and I have reinstituted the previous ban.

The Other J

I often write about the funny things my husband, J, will say. I do this because I want to share it, but also because I want to remember it. Like the Ass Sucker conversation (I’ve added the Ass Sucker blog entry below as it originally appeared on my MySpace page). But today, I have to write about something my friend Amy’s husband said. He is also a J.

Amy and I both like to cook. At least I liked to cook before I got pregnant and started hating the smell of a lot of foods including chicken and barbecue sauce. Just before I found out I was pregnant, Amy called and asked if I wanted to attend a class on tamale making at Great News, a local kitchen retailer and cooking school. Tonight is the class and I'll try to get some pictures (with my cell phone, ha ha) and maybe some recipes for tomorrow.

At dinner the other night, Amy shared the other J’s reaction to her taking the class. She told us that there is a tamale stand near her parents' house and she and the other J often stop and purchase tamales. Apparently, you don’t even have to get out of your car, you can simply wave the tamale man over and he will bring the tamales to you.

Although I’ve never made a tamale, I know the basic concept and admit it seems fairly complicated, what with the making of the masa part and the making of the filling part and the wrapping in the corn husk and the tying and the steaming. The other J astutely noted that all we were likely to learn tonight is that a $1.50 is a damn good price for tamale.

The Ass Sucker (September 24, 2007)

J and I spent this last weekend at a small cabin in Julian which allowed us to bring our dogs. The cabin sits on about two acres of fenced property so we had a wonderful time playing and exploring with the pooches.

When we climbed into bed late Saturday night, it was quite cold. In an effort to get warm, J and I found ourselves in an unusual position with one of his hands on my head and the other on my hip. The hand on my head reminded me of an old childhood joke so I asked, "Is that a brain sucker and is it starving?" To which J responded, "Yes, but the ass sucker is doing well."

Maybe it IS me? Maybe I AM Type A?

I'm just now starting to realize how nervous I come off as in person. Like I know I'm a nervous person, I know I'm shy, but I thought my smile was a good disguise? I thought I played it off well? Maybe it's the nervous giggle?

I had a doctors appointment today with the OB. The doctor did another ultrasound and Baby A and my cervix, in case you were wondering, are both looking good. The appointment ended with the doctor asking when I was comfortable doing a follow up. I didn't actually expect them to follow up for many more weeks. I mean, I've already had four ultrasounds and it's only been about nine weeks. I realize that's bordering excessive.

I told him I would do whatever he recommended. He said three would be good, that he'd even be comfortable with four weeks, but because of who I am I'd probably be better off only waiting three weeks. What the heck? Really, I'm not that nervous about the pregnancy. I'm doing okay. I tried to tell him I'd been handling it fine so far. I don't think he believed me.

Am I the only one singing this song now?

Why I Can't Take Him Anywhere

Nurse: Did this pregnancy come about through fertility treatment?

Me: Yes, an IUI with Clomid and Progesterone.

Nurse: So no IVF?

Me: No.

Nurse: And it was your own eggs and sperm.

J: Presumably.

Update - Just One Baby

I had my third ultrasound today and, unfortunately, Baby B has passed away. At the last ultrasound, he measured 6 weeks and 1 day. Today, he measured just 6 weeks and 2 days so it appears he passed away the very next day. Baby A looks very good though. He is measuring 8 weeks and 2 days and as it has been 8 weeks and 2 days since my last menstrual cycle, that is perfect. He also had a good heartbeat. I'm calling them both hes, but I really don't have a feeling one way or the other.

Pic of Baby A:

Because Baby B is still present and hasn't degenerated, there is a slight chance he could affect the well-being of Baby A. As such, I'm still classified as a high-risk pregnancy and will still be seeing the specialist. He works with women having singletons, as well, so if I like him, I can have him as my doctor throughout the pregnancy. The nurse practitioner that did the exam today was extremely nice and she spoke highly of him.

I was not overwhelmed with sadness when I learned Baby B had passed. I knew it was a possibility and am still very happy and grateful that Baby A is doing well. Although I am a bit ashamed to admit it, I felt a moment of relief because no matter what it would have been a lot harder to care for two newborns at the same time. J is a bit sadder than I am. He was looking forward to having two that could grow up together and keep each other entertained.

I thought it would be nice to include a poem or meaningful quote in this entry, but I couldn't find anything online that I loved and really spoke to me. I was a Creative Writing major in college and so I jotted down a quick poem of my own.

Pic of Baby B:I like to think you would have had
A contagious, glowing smile,
Known there were times for somberness,
But found laughter more your style.

I imagine you’d have outwitted me
On more than one occasion,
And I’d have bragged to everyone
Of your talents most amazing.

And though I’ll never hold you, dear,
I can still feel you in my arms,
And dream of your accomplishments,
Your beauty and your charms.

I know somewhere your spirit lives,
I like to think you're near,
And that my dreams and whispered love
Are something that you hear.

Because I Couldn't Say It On the Phone

Nurse Arlene, you're a bitch.

On Saturday, I was laying on my couch reading, twisted my torso to move from my back to my side, and I got a sharp shooting pain on my left side toward the bottom of my rib cage. The sharp pain went away, but now it comes back, fleetingly, if I twist a certain way, or bend over or sit up without supporting my stomach. I also have a very slight dull ache in my side from all the repeated sharp shooting pains. I did a google search and spoke to some friends and similar side pain seems to be common in pregnant women.

Today, just wanting to be certain I wasn't ignoring something serious, I called my doctor's office and left a message for a nurse to call me back. When I explained the problem, the nurse insisted there was no way it was related to my pregnancy. I've never hurt myself so easily before or in this particular place on my body so I find that hard to believe but ok.

She then asked if I exercise. I told her I walk, but I wouldn't call it exercise. She suggested this must have happened exercising. I again explained that I knew how it happened and I did it sitting up. And this is where her response goes way off the offensive charts. This idiot had the nerve to say to me, "Yes, you probably pulled something. I can tell you are a Type A personality and you probably sat up too fast."

Believe me when I say I am NOT a Type A personality. I may get a little anxious and stressed out now and again, but I am the furthest thing from Type A. I called J to tell him about the conversation and he outright laughed when I got to this part. He then offered Type L for lazy as a more fitting personality type.

Stupid Email Forwards

I have recently started receiving from an email contact every "Jesus" email message ever created. The latest is an "authentic, UN-touched" picture of an American flag and the way the light shines through it there is a glowing image of a cross where the stars appear. Isn't that amazing! Personally, I found the image of the Virgin Mary in the grilled cheese a little bit more moving, because, come on, it's the image of the Virgin Mary AND it's a tasty grilled cheese sandwich.

I find the picture offensive. I know it seems silly, but the concept of freedom from a government imposed religion is one of tenants upon which our government is based. This is the "land of the free," not the land of the Christians. Anyway, I'm so sick of the lack of religious tolerance I'm seeing from people, or at least what I'm perceiving. Go ahead and be a Christian cheerleader, but please remember there are people with as much reason as you to believe in a different set of spiritual realities. And they are Americans, too. And the flag isn't a symbol of Christianity. It's a symbol of a country. A country made up of many different people of many different religions.

Rant over.

Beautiful Blobs

I should start by saying that Baby A looks just right. Good size, good heartbeat, just a beautiful little blob of cells. Baby B is also beautiful, and Baby B also has a heartbeat, however, Baby B's heartbeat is slower than Baby A's heartbeat, and Baby B is also a wee bit smaller than Baby A. Unfortunately, the doppler would not turn on so I do not know the exact heart rates.

I specifically asked the two doctors doing the u/s what in their experience this meant and they couldn't say. It could go either way. I researched it online a bit this morning and found many message board posts on the subject. Some posters with similar u/s results went on to have good twin pregnancies, other went on to have good singleton pregnancies. If I lose Baby B, then I may absorb Baby B, or I may bleed out, both of which can occur with no ill effect to Baby A. I'm basically in the same waiting place as I was before.

I've been released to an ob/gyn. I was originally going to go with my regular family practice and went as far as to schedule an appointment, but something in my gut told me to find a new office. I decided to trust that feeling, called a different office, and already I feel so much better.

The woman I spoke to scheduled a "New OB Consult" for the 25th with a nurse, and they will do an u/s. If there are still two, then I will keep the other appointment I have the following Tuesday with a doctor there that specializes in twins.

I will let you know more on June 25. "Think good babies thoughts!"

7 week u/s: Picture 1 is Baby B, Picture 2 is Baby A

Splitting My Intelligence Quotient Three Ways?

For the most part, I've kept my wits about me this pregnancy and am not quite as ditsy or absentminded as one might have thought I would be, considering I can be fairly ditsy and absentminded sans fetus(es).

I have had a few moments, though, when my mind hasn't performed quite up to snuff. Take for instance yesterday afternoon, when I was at Barnes and Noble with J looking for some light reading. I decided to quickly peruse the expectant mother section but had difficulty finding it. From a few yards away, I saw the "Nursing" section and wondered how they could have two entire bookshelves devoted to nursing your baby and none to pregnancy. Uh, yeah, that would be a section for nurses and not breast feeding mothers. When I found the right section, I didn't actually buy a book. I may buy one later, but, for now, I figure almost all the (mis)information I need is available free on the internet.

I have another ultrasound tomorrow and am very anxious to know if we will see one heartbeat or two. I have, of course, done some internet research and "vanishing twin syndrome" is not uncommon. This is where I would absorb one of the fetuses, but the other fetus would continue on normally. I'd prefer not to absorb one of my babies, and though I would be a little sad if we see only one heartbeat tomorrow, I would also be very happy to see at least one heartbeat.

Priorities

After showering and getting ready for work, I went downstairs where I saw J for the first time this morning and announced to him I'd had some unpleasant dreams. He exclaimed that he too had had an unpleasant dream.

One of my dreams involved being given ultrasounds by my friends who cut large slits into my stomach and inserted the wand into the slits, and thereafter trying to ascertain whether the copious amount of blood covering me was from the gashes in my stomach or from my lady parts. The other dream involved directly injecting Pepto Bismal into my veins and getting a call from my doctor's office saying my hCG levels had gone down to 80.

J's dream involved going to a massage parlor. J used to get a massage once a month until his regular masseuse relocated recently. Poor J.

Uhhhh ...

Well, it's two. Ack!

There were definitely two gestational sacs and two fetal poles, but at this point there is only one for sure visible heartbeat. Baby 1 had a very strong heartbeat which I was able to easily see, but I didn't get to see a heartbeat for Baby 2. For someone that really only wanted one, I'm really worrying about Baby 2.

At one point, they thought they maybe might be seeing a heartbeat, but they couldn't tell for sure. J was there, and he also thought he may have seen a heartbeat. The doctor did say she could "imagine" a heartbeat for whatever that is worth. I go back in a week for a second ultrasound. And I thought waiting for the first ultrasound was hard!

Here are the ultrasounds pictures:The first picture is Baby 2 for whom they couldn't yet see the heartbeat. You can just barely make out the fetal pole toward the bottom right of the gestational sac (i.e., black circle, ha). The second is Baby 1 with the very strong heartbeat. That one they measured so you can see the little measurement marks.

I've been asking for "happy baby thoughts," but this week I need some "happy babIES thoughts"!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

A very very Happy Birthday to my friend, Kristin!

No, really, I promise I didn't forget about you.

I think I've mentioned before that I'm not an overly religious person, well, not religious at all. For many years, I would announce I'm atheist, because it seemed cooler, like I'd made up my mind and that was that. But I'm secure enough with myself these days to admit I'm really agnostic, a position much easier to reconcile with my belief in, bordering fear of, Karma. I'm capitalizing her name these days out of respect.

Other than a few cramps and the overwhelming exhaustion, exhaustion that makes it difficult to get out of bed after 10 hours of sleep, exhaustion that makes it take 20 minutes to traverse the 50 yards from my car to the store front, I've had very few overt pregnancy symptoms. Yesterday, I read online about a friend's pregnancy nausea. Hi Gene! This friend conceived at almost the exact same time I did. Having recently read that 90% of women who experience morning sickness carry to term, I couldn't help but worry that I had yet to experience it. I should have known better. Karma must have been checking in on me at that exact moment, because last night it hit and it's still going strong 12 hours later.

Tomorrow is my first ultrasound and of course what I'm hoping for most is that everything looks perfect, that everyone involved is healthy and progressing normally. But of course the answer to "How many?" is right up there, too. Think "happy baby thoughts"!

Prisoner's Dilemma

J and I have been doing a lot of talking lately about what if it is twins. For a few days, J was ecstatic about the idea. This is because he has never in his life, for even the briefest of moments, cared for an infant. Not having my own children, I may not completely understand, but I have a niece and nephew and enough friends with kids that I can somewhat comprehend the challenges we might face caring for two newborns at the same time. After many discussions, J as come to agree that twins would not be a bad thing, but would be less good.

Still, we have begun referring to "the babies." Probably not karmically the best idea. Today J was adamant that the babies not be allowed to read any books on game theory. As an English major, my reaction was, "What the hell are you talking about?" So he explained.

Were they to read a book on game theory, they would learn of the prisoner's dilemma and that would foil all of his parenting plans. You see, we can tell them that whomever eats their peas will get more love that day, and so each will eat their peas. But if they were to study the prisoner's dilemma, they would learn that the best strategy would be for them both to refuse to eat their peas.

I don't know if I am having one or two, but I am certain I am having nerd(s).

Good News!

My levels went up, boy did they go up. From 134 to 416! They more than tripled. I could still only be having one, but I could be having more than one. It didn't feel like more than one, it felt like one. Maybe it is only one. If it's two, I can deal, that's okay. I knew it was a possibility. But wow. Just wow. I think it's okay to feel a little, umh, overwhelmed. The doctor said they'd be looking for more than one at the ultrasound. July 8th seems like a really long way away. But the good news is the levels went up!

Cawww! Cawww!

I have a small tattoo of a dragon fly on my lower back. Fine, I have a tramp stamp of a dragon fly.

I was brushing my teeth this morning and J could see my tattoo. He rolled his eyes and said, "By the time you give birth, that'll be a pterodactyl." Then he started making pterodactyl noises.

I wanted to be angry, but I was laughing too hard.

I AM PREGNANT!

I had the pregnancy confirmed with a serum blood test today. I had the test done at noon and my doctor has already called me with the results. How's that for service! I give it a five out of five stars!

I asked her the levels number (134) and then was all, "Is that normal?" I don't know why I asked, I knew she couldn't tell me without a second test. She nicely explained that she couldn't say it was normal without another test and very kindly said she could have another test ordered for Thursday if I wanted. I'm obviously a testing junkie. Yes, test me again. Yes! Bring on the Thursday test!!

I am pregnant.

It still feels a little odd to say it. Again, I have this incredible urge to knock on wood. But I talked to my doctor today and she said the shot would have been out of my system in five days.

If we are really close friends, please don't be mad that you found out I was pregnant from my blog. Ha!

Here is today's pregnancy test. I'm still working with just a camera phone so bear with me. I suppose maybe a camera that works before the baby comes would be in order.

The doctor ordered a blood test, but I'll only have the one unless I'm spotting or there is some other indication of a problem. I can just walk in for the test so will probably go tomorrow. I will call her on Wednesday for the results. She also scheduled an ultrasound for July 8th.

Keep thinking all those "happy baby thoughts" for me!!!

TTC 106: Labelling and Categorizing Your Pregnancy Tests (Required for TTC Major)

As far as I could tell, the pregnancy tests I took Wednesday night, Thursday morning and Friday morning were all negative. If you look online, many people say the hCG from the ovulation trigger shot is out of your system in 10 days. There are the more cautious who say it can stay in your system for 12-14 days. I have a few friends that are either going through the same steps as I am, or have been through them, and they all say 10 days, a few say as early as 6-7.

I was out of tests, so I bought some Fact Plus tests on Friday night, they were on sale. I took a test Saturday a.m., 11 days after the hCG shot, and saw the very very very faintest of lines. I immediately ran out and bought a digital which read, "Pregnant." I had that fluttering excitement moment I bet most women have, but then it was replaced by doubt. To be really sure, I needed a First Response test for comparison. So I ran out and bought a box of First Response tests. The two I took yesterday said positive. I still wasn't sold.

I took another digital and First response this morning, 12 days after the shot, well, technically 11 days and 22 hours, and they were both postive. Of course, I'm still doubting it all. Maybe this batch of tests is more sensitive? Maybe I missed something with the negatives before?

If I'm not pregnant, I've still learned a valuable lesson. Do not test until day 14! You'll save on sanity and money.

One little, two little, three little pregnancy tests ....

Over the last three years, I've spent a small fortune on pregnancy tests and am continuing to do so this month.

The problem with the ovulation trigger shot is that the hormone in it is the same hormone you secrete when pregnant and which home pregnancy tests measure. Test too early, before your body has metabolized the drug, and you get a false positive, not a good thing for somebody already in a precarious emotional state.

I took a risk and tested last night and it was negative. This is a good thing. It would be too early for a real positive, and this confirms the hCG from the shot is out of my system. Of course, to be sure, I tested again this morning, still negative, and you can bet I'll be testing tomorrow and Saturday, and Sunday, and Monday, and Tuesday ....

The Waiting

So, I have Tom Petty's The Waiting stuck in my head. I wonder why? The video has me thinking two things: 1) she really did look a lot like Tom Petty, and 2) the 80s were really freaking awesome.

If the poet would permit me license ....

I sing the Body electric;
....
And if the body does not do as much as the Soul?
And if the body were not the Soul, what is the Soul?
....
The love of the body of man or woman balks account—the body itself balks account;
That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.
....
The sprawl and fullness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women, the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street, the contour of their shape downwards,
....
The female soothing a child—the farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard,
The young fellow hoeing corn—the sleigh-driver guiding his six horses through the crowd,
....
The natural, perfect, varied attitudes—the bent head, the curv’d neck, and the counting;
Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at the mother’s breast with the little child,
....
I know a man, a common farmer—the father of five sons;
And in them were the fathers of sons—and in them were the fathers of sons.
....
This is the female form;
A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot;
It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction!
....
This is the nucleus—after the child is born of woman, the man is born of woman;
This is the bath of birth—this is the merge of small and large, and the outlet again.

Be not ashamed, women—your privilege encloses the rest, and is the exit of the rest;
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.

The female contains all qualities, and tempers them—she is in her place, and moves with perfect balance;
She is all things duly veil’d—she is both passive and active;
She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters.

The male is not less the soul, nor more—he too is in his place;
He too is all qualities—he is action and power;
....
The man’s body is sacred, and the woman’s body is sacred;
No matter who it is, it is sacred;
....
This is not only one man—this is the father of those who shall be fathers in their turns;
In him the start of populous states and rich republics;
Of him countless immortal lives, with countless embodiments and enjoyments.

How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring through the centuries?
Who might you find you have come from yourself, if you could trace back through the centuries?
....
She too is not only herself—she is the teeming mother of mothers;
She is the bearer of them that shall grow and be mates to the mothers.

Have you ever loved the Body of a woman?
Have you ever loved the Body of a man?
....
Womanhood, and all that is a woman—and the man that comes from woman,
The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping, love-looks, love-perturbations and risings,
...
O I say, these are not the parts and poems of the Body only, but of the Soul,
O I say now these are the Soul!

-Excerpts from "I Sing the Body Electric," Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman

“Think happy baby thoughts.”

I had my first IUI this morning. I woke up at 5:20 and took an ovulation predictor test to see if it was positive. I figured that if it was positive, that meant I did get enough of the Ovidrel into my body since the Ovidrel causes a positive on an OPK. It was positive.

By far the hardest thing about the whole process was getting J to wake up at 5:30. He didn’t actually get out of bed until 5:45. I’m sure he’d have procrastinated longer had I not told him his appointment to umh, do his part, was at 6:45, when it was actually at 7. Yes, I’m a very smart wife.

Last night, he was complaining about getting up early and threatening not to shower or get dressed before going in, “Hi, I’m the homeless man Karen found on the streets and paid to give a semen sample. Do you have any donuts?”

It takes about an hour for them to wash the sperm. They cannot inject seminal fluid into your uterus so they have to separate the sperm from the other matter. I’m very curious about the whole thing so I asked the doctor exactly how they do it. I couldn’t see her face while she was explaining since she was fiddling with my vagina at the time. I hope she didn’t think it was an odd thing to ask.

When she walked into the exam room, she commented on my husband not being able to stay for the actual IUI. I had thought about the possibility in passing but never even suggested it to him, I’d rather he got home early and we could spend some time together tonight. I called J later on and mentioned it to him, that maybe the norm was for him to be there during conception. He had a good point, that if conception occurred, it would be later today and not during the IUI. So maybe we’ll conceive over dinner tonight.

Right as the doctor injected the sperm, she said, “Okay, I’m injecting the sperm, think happy baby thoughts, happy baby thoughts, happy baby thoughts.” I’d been pretty relaxed and pretty happy up until that moment, but after hearing “think happy baby thoughts,” every bad thought, worry, etc. I’ve ever had went through my head. It’s like when someone tells you not to move and you suddenly have this uncontrollable urge to dance a jig.

Meet Max?

When I was 21, I lived with one of my best friends, Amy. Hi Amy! We would often go to the local video rental store to pick up a movie and visit the clerk’s miniature dachshund - Chili Cheese. A few months after meeting Chili Cheese, we wandered into a upscale pet shop selling a AKC breed dachshund. He was the cutest thing ever and a few days later, with the encouragement of Amy, I was walking out of the store with Chewbacca (Chewie). The next year or so he wreaked havoc in our little Hillcrest cottage. Sorry Amy! Eventually, some neighbors left a note about him barking and Chewie went to live with my Mom and Dad and their 150lb German Shepherd, Jumbo.

A little over a year ago, Chewie became very sick and had to be euthanized. Chewie was a sweet puppy and stole my Mother’s heart. Him being ill and then passing was hard for her and she couldn’t even think of getting a new dog until recently. Just last week, though, she and my Dad put a deposit down on a new dachshund puppy who they will be able to bring home on July 22nd. She was convinced it was a sign the time was right when she learned the Mom of the litter was named Chloe, the name of my parents' first dog. She was further swayed by the name the breeder gave the puppy, Max. My great grandfather was named Max, my grandfather was named Max, my uncle is named Max, and my cousin is named Max. Obviously, it's a family name. Isn’t Puppy Max cute?!

My parents don’t know yet if they will rename him. The funny thing is, if I ever have a baby boy, I want to name him Max. J wasn’t sold on the name until he learned about the new puppy. Now he’s all for it. We’re both very excited at the prospect of teasing our son about being named after Grandma and Grandpa’s dog. Because that’s the kind of parents we’ll be.

After my ultrasound today, the doctor left up the image of my largest follicle. Before I left the room, I said hello to little Max or Frances. God I hope that Ovidrel shot worked.

The Good and The Bad

I went to the doctor this morning and got wonderful news. I have one follicle at 20mm which is great. Another at 15 which is ok - 30% chance of conception with that one. But I really only want one, so that's fine with me.

I was to give myself my shot to make me ovulate this morning with an IUI tomorrow! Yay! But I had to give it to myself in a parking lot, fun stuff, and some of the Ovidrel didn't make it into me. Some of it did, but definitely not all of it. I'm such a doofus. I called the doctor and she thinks it should still be ok, I only need half of it to ovulate, but seriously! That was one of the easiest parts of it all.

Kind of a Bummer

I had my ultrasound today and she said my dominant follicle had stopped growing? I guess she had remeasured the follicles last time and they weren't 12 and 14 but 11 and 16 and today the dominant was only 17 - they grow 1mm to 3 mm a day. Because it was two days later, it should have been larger. A follicle isn't mature until it's 18 mm, so I can't give myself the shot yet. She's going to recheck again on Tuesday morning.

"No way, YOU'RE an attorney?"

Obviously, I'm doing something wrong (or maybe something right), because people always seem taken aback when I tell them I'm an attorney. I had reason to mention it to my RE this morning and I got the above reaction. Apparently, she was surprised because I don't "seem like [I'm] under a lot of stress." I should have invited her over to hold me at night while I'm curled up in a ball rocking back and forth crying "oh god, oh god" every few seconds.

I had an ultrasound this morning where she saw one, maybe three maturing follicles. In case you haven't been studying up on your fertility, when follicles are mature, they release an egg and then the follicle becomes a corpus luteam which releases hormones to facilitate conception and implantation. She said that one is 14 mm and two are 12 mm, they all may continue to mature or the smaller ones may recede leaving only the larger follicle. She is going to do another ultrasound on Sunday morning, and the tentative scheduled is for me to administer the Ovidrel shot on Sunday night for an IUI on Tuesday.

I think that after a doctors appointment, they should allow you use of their computer so you can research the information you've been given. You should then be allowed to meet with the doctor again for clarification. It didn't dawn on me to ask if I wanted three mature follicles or if that was bad until I was in my car driving away. On the way to my office, I kept thinking that three mature follicles would mean three babies. If there was ever a proper time to use the "f" word, I think it would be if you found out you were having triplets. I was in my car debating in my head whether I would want to do an IUI if it meant triplets. I want to be a Mom really badly, but do I want to be a Mom THAT badly?

I've since done some research and have read that for a successful IUI, you would ideally want three to four mature follicles, but that you can get pregnant with just one. I still have lots of questions so I'll be doing some more research on this, and I'll be sure to ask my doctor on Sunday.

I did get some good news today. I thought I was going to have to foot the bill 100% for all of this. I spoke with the benefits coordinator today and learned my insurance covers 50%. The ultrasounds are only $44.53! And the IUI with sperm washing is only $61.79. I am so happy I could burst.

Keep thinking those good thoughts for me! They worked for getting J's HIV test so I'm really counting on them for everything else. Oh, and I only had one copy of the HIV test results so I made my doctor make me a copy before I'd give the results to her. I wasn't about to go through that whole process again.

Happy Friday!

Yes

I have J's HIV results. I have an u/s tomorrow. I'm sure I'll be updating after it. Thanks to everyone who sent well wishes and positive thoughts.

Spoiler Alert!

I watched the final two Episodes of John Adams off of our DVR the other night while J was sleeping. Last night he asked me if I had watched them and I said I had, then I said, "Do you want to know how it ends? He dies."

God I'm funny.

"I know stuff."

A series of events has resulted in J and me trying very hard not to spend any cash for the next few months. As we already owned the game, we decided to pass time last Sunday playing Trivial Pursuit.

I grew up playing Trivial Pursuit with my sister and parents and we still play it when we get together for holidays. We've played it so much, we've developed some of our own traditions around it, such as when you get a really easy question and it's for a pie, we call that pie piece a "pity pie." When J first heard us refer to the pity pie, he loved it, and now he uses it regularly. We were saying it to each other so much last Sunday, I developed the pity pie dirge and can't wait to share it with the rest of my family. It basically consists of me singing, "Here comes the pity pie, here comes the pity pie," to the tune of, "Poor Jud is dead," from the musical, Oklahoma, as I march it across the board towards the game piece.

In the past, we would fight over who got my Dad on their team, now we fight over who gets my Dad and who gets J. I think I've only ever beaten J at Trivial Pursuit once in the past. It's not that I'm dumb, it's just that J is really, really smart. I think he summed it up best when I demanded to know how he knew the answer to a particularly obscure question and he said, "I know stuff." One question I wasn't surprised he knew the answer to? "In what state do you find Riverside, the future birthplace of James T. Kirk?"

Frustrated

I've written before about needing J's HIV results. Prior to doing an IUI, where sperm is injected by catheter through the cervix into the uterus, state law requires the sperm donor to have "California Law Labs" completed (J says the law was very recently rewritten to allow for insemination if I consent, but it may be so new as to not yet be officially enacted).

The tests are for HIV, Hepatitis, HTLV, and a few other things. I think the main reason is they don't want to infect me with a disease.

For the last two months, at least, we've been asking the doctor's office to send the HIV results, but they keep sending the HTLV results. Today, I finally made him go to the doctor's office after they sent the HTLV test FOR THE THIRD TIME.

J called me from the doctor's office saying his doctor said the tests are related and the HTLV would be positive if he had HIV. But what his doctor says doesn't really matter, now does it? My doctor says she needs the HIV. She has repeatedly said the HTLV will not suffice. Prior to today, J was adamant he had had an earlier, separate, HIV test. Wrong! He wound up having to give blood today to have the HIV 1/2 tests.

Now they say they'll have the results in the next few days. I ABSOLUTELY MUST HAVE THEM BY FRIDAY! I'm not holding my breath.

It tasted good, with hints of good.

I had an unusually fancy dinner planned for last night considering it was Wednesday and just J and me. It gave me the silly notion to do a foodie entry. Silly because I love red wine more than anything but am certainly no expert, and silly because a foodie blog should have beautiful photographs and there is something wrong with my camera and I’m currently relying on my crappy, three year old cell phone for taking pictures.

The fancy dinner was simply a result of wanting to use ingredients I had on hand. I realized this morning that but for the butter, bread, salad dressing and wine, the entire meal was made from ingredients purchased at Costco. The Costco ingredient list consisted of garlic powder, sea salt, black pepper, steak filets, vine ripened tomatoes, olive oil, salad mix, and blue cheese. If when you die you go to heaven and heaven is different for each person and it’s that person’s own idea of nirvana, then when I die I’m going to Costco. There is nothing as cathartic as buying in bulk.

I’ll start with the wine. Last Monday, J and I went to BevMo!. I always enjoy my trips there because I use it as an excuse to buy copious amounts of wine. I purchased several bottles of red all in the $15 range. Last night, I opened the 2003 Hess, which is a Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa Valley. The bottle says the wine has a youthful flavor, or something like that, and it is aged 14 months in small oak barrels.

I thought it was good, not wonderful, but perfectly pleasant. I tried to be professional about my tasting and began by looking at its legs. It had discernable legs, but wasn’t clinging to the glass like some other wines I’ve had. I then came to grips with the fact that I have absolutely no idea how to write notes on wine. It had nice legs, not Rockette material, but nice? I did do that draw air in and gurgle thing and I thought I tasted a bit of strawberry, but I really don’t know. Let’s just say it was probably worth the $15.

Dinner consisted of store bought mixed greens tossed in a store bought balsamic vinaigrette dressing, roasted vine ripened tomatoes with blue cheese, grilled steak fillets and sourdough garlic bread. To prepare the steaks, I rubbed them with olive oil, ground sea salt, ground black pepper and garlic powder and then grilled them four minutes on each side (two minutes, twist, two minutes, flip, two minutes, twist, two minutes, off the grill to rest 10 minutes). The tomatoes were halved, cored, drizzled with olive oil, sprinkled with fresh ground sea salt and black pepper and roasted for 15 minutes at 400 degrees. I then put crumbled blue cheese on top and roasted an additional five minutes. The garlic bread was nothing more than slices of Trader Joe’s seeded sourdough bread topped with butter, ground sea salt and garlic powder and broiled.

One tip about the steak, I like to buy a whole loin from Costco and then trim it and cut it into steaks myself. It provides me several meals for not too many dollars and the steaks are the perfect portion – sort of on the small size, but really the amount we should be eating. I learned the technique from Alton Brown’s Good Eats, Tender is the Loin.

The meal tasted wonderful and was quick and easy. I would recommend it for a fast weeknight meal or for entertaining.

Time for an Update

As I wrote about in an earlier post, I took no infertility drugs the last cycle. The ultrasound earlier this month showed a follicle too far along to permit drugs. Fortunately, the ultrasound today was done early enough and I will be taking 100 milligrams of Clomid starting today, have another ultrasound on June 6, will then do the Ovidrel shot, and then progesterone suppositories.

The doctor would also like to do an IUI this month, but because nothing with this process is ever easy, I STILL DON’T HAVE J’S HIV TEST RESULTS, but instead have twice been sent the HTLV results. I’ve been reminding J to take care of this for weeks, but his doctor’s office is inept, obviously, so he finds it frustrating to talk to them and he did not follow up until this morning when I called him after my appointment and “reminded” him. That I had to remind him is of course something I find frustrating.

Part of the problem is that privacy laws supposedly prevent anyone at his doctor's office but his doctor from looking at the results of the test or even confirming that he had a test. I find my desire for an adequate response to J’s and my needs difficult to reconcile with my support for patient privacy.

This morning was the first time the lobby of the clinic was busy. With all my past appointments, it was either just me in the lobby, or maybe one other person. Today, I counted at least seven pregnant women. My mental response to this went back and forth between, why can't I be pregnant, too, to if they are here and pregnant there is hope for me, back to there are women this doesn't work for, I could be one of those women, and so on. I felt a little teary but held it back because I didn't want to be the lady in the RE's office crying.

So that’s where we’re at. I’m sure I’ll be posting about the Clomid side effects soon. Zzzzzzz ...

In Pursuit of the Treat

I give the dogs a small treat after their breakfast as I'm leaving for work. I also give them a small treat after their dinner. They've all three of them become very bossy about their treats. They know when they are supposed to get a treat and they want you to know they know.

They will stare at you, pant, wag their tails and sometimes even bark or whine. They will walk over to the counter where the treats are and stare at the treats. They will climb up on you like lap dogs if you are on the couch, which can be a little cumbersome considering Karl is 75 lbs and Wolfie 65, and one of them isn't about to sit around and watch the other dog crawl on you if there is anyway they can get in on a little of the action themselves.

All this in pursuit of the treat. J recently decided that they are not Keeshonden (mixes) and has renamed them American Treat Hounds. I think we should apply for AKC recognition.

The Great Gazoo

J has this voice he sometimes uses when joking around, it's sort of a British butler voice for lack of a better way to describe it. Saturday night, we were sitting around talking and J started using the voice. He reminded me of someone or something. After a few moments I said, "Wait, you sound like that guy, that alien guy from The Flintstones, what was his name, Ga--." J abruptly cut me off. "Don't say it," he demanded. When I asked him, "Why?," he responded, "They used to call me that in high school." I laughed hard. If you know J, you are laughing hard now, too.

Precious Moments

If it's possible for a 40 year old man to be precious, then I would say that J has his precious moments. He also has moments where he is the most infuriating #$%& in the world, but his precious moments make it all worth it.

After 6 years together grilling with charcoal, first with a Smokey Joe and then later with a larger, Weber grill, we are finally graduating to gas. The delay was in large part, okay, fine, it was completely due to me because I insisted I wanted a built in grill.

They started work on it last week and are making quick progress (see photo). In addition to a grilling area, we are having our landscaper build a raised planter for more vegetables (we currently have about six pots of various hot peppers). They are also going to reseal the stamped concrete and generally make the place look presentable. I will post more photos when they are done (the construction will go quickly, but unfortunately the actual grill is on back order until mid-June).

Last night, we grilled steaks on the Weber. I was looking for my tongs to turn the steaks over and couldn't find them. It was pretty dark out on our patio and when I called out to J and asked if he knew where they were, he admitted he had them and that he was over by where the new grill will be "pretending."

Mother's Day

Even though I'm not on all those great baby creation enhancing drugs this month, we're still going to give it the ol' college try. My doctor told me to start the ovulation predictor tests today, and when the test was negative this morning, I kept hearing in my head, "We are no go for coitus." It does sometimes feel like it would be easier to launch the shuttle.

Mother's Day is this Sunday. I can't say with sincerity that it's tearing me up inside. I do my best not to think about what if I'm never a mother, but it certainly provides a reason to reflect. Here is a day to celebrate the Mother, and not that the Mother and all of her efforts aren't worthy of celebration, but where's the day to celebrate the non-Mom and her trials and tribulations? And if I don't ever get to register for a baby shower, can I pull a Carrie from Sex in the City and register for shoes?

I'm sure in an effort to keep me positive, a lot of people say to me, "It will happen to you," or "I know you'll have your turn." I always just agree with them, because they really do believe it and really do want me to have my turn. The reality though is that there are many couples out there that will never conceive even after pursuing the latest science has to offer.

Many couples will turn to adoption and those that successfully adopt are as much parents as any Mom and Dad with birth children. But for J and me, adoption isn't an option. I was told by one former social worker that J would be too old for foreign adoptions. You know that joke, "You're so old you can't adopt a baby." No, not familiar with it? But that's not the main reason we won't adopt. J was adopted. A closed adoption. He knows absolutely nothing about his birth family other than what he was able to gather from having his DNA analyzed. Uncle Ötzi, why don't you ever write or call?

His adoptive parents are wonderful and there is a lot of love there, but being adopted has been a very hard thing for J. He's worked through all the emotions one might expect -- abandonment, alienation -- and he doesn't feel he has it in him to raise an adopted child the way the child deserves to be raised. I respect this and would never ask him to do it.

The reality is that there are some people for whom it will never happen, who will never get their turn. I really may find myself in a few years as a permanent non-Mom. If I do, I'm creating a day for me. I'm not sure of all the logistics, but it's going to involve a lot of red wine and cheese.