Yay me!

So the brown sludge gave way to undeniable and unwelcome menstrual flow very early on Thursday morning.

When I got to work, I called my Doctor to get my day 28 blood work results and was hugely disappointed to find out that he wasn't in. So not only was I without child, I was bleeding, bloating, cramping and uninformed.

It was a low day.

I felt like I was living in a fog and I was definitely off at work. For the first time ever, I honestly could not keep it together and I cried in my office/storage room.
Pretty sad.

Last night, there were the obligatory crying jags with my sad man, who also had a low day, followed by a calming walk to our local Starbucks.

Today has been much better.

I called the doctor from work again this morning and I got some pretty decent news.

I ovulated last month!

Yay me!

My day 28 progesterone level was at 37 (unit?). Apparently, a minimum of 18 is indicative of ovulation. He figured I ovulated on around day 22 or 23 which is right at the point in my cycle that I thought I had ovulated too. I think he said April 10th was the day. And yes, we did do it approximately 2 million times around that date... To be fair, I guess there is only a 20% chance in any given cycle of getting knocked up, even for the uberfertile.

So, it is still the plan to stick with Metformin for now. We're going to continue to check my blood for signs of ovulation on cycle days 21 and 28 and I am going to keep on charting and jumping on my Hubster every chance I get. Hopefully, this egg wasn't a one off and hopefully everything else was OK in there. And if, by the end of June, there is no baby in the belly, we are going to look into Clomid.

The thought of making a baby naturally is very exciting.
The thought that it could be this month is even more exciting...

Here we go again.
My hopes are up.
I am ready to fly.

Wish us luck.

typical

The sexy brown sludge that is the start of my period showed up today. Typical.

Cramps too.
Delightful.

I guess I'll call the Doctor tomorrow to find out what my test results were on day 28.

How do couples handle going through this nasty cycle for years on end?

I guess all can do is prepare myself for my 21st month in a row of trying to get knocked up.

Man this sucks.

Day 36 and holding

There have been a few questions regarding my cycle status. Most of them have been coming from myself... But yes, it is now cycle day 36 for me and I have no flow as of yet.

Before you get all excited, I should let you know that my temperature dropped this morning. And, after examining the toilette paper and my underpants after every pee in the last four days, I think I may be approaching menstruation.

That's not to say that I've given up. I've allowed myself several pregnancy fantasies. OK, it's all I think about. All day. Every day. All the time.

Wouldn't it be lovely if I could tell my mom that I am pregnant on Mother's Day? Oh, I dare to dream.

I am going to try to not pee on another stick until cycle day 38 because that would be roughly 14 DPO, if I ovulated.

I am currently ignoring the cramping in my uterus in favour of baby in the belly dreams.

I'll keep you posted.

Here's hoping...

spring fever

I am currently sitting at a ridiculous Cycle day 34. I am not showing any strong signs towards menstruation or pregnancy. I've peed on 2 sticks, one on day 30 and one this morning, and according to them... I am not pregnant.

I could be too soon.

When I look at my chart, I mean when I really analyze it, when I squint in order to read between the lines... I can imagine my ovulation.

When you're desperate, like I am, you can see temperature dips and rises where there aren't any. The tiniest bit of cervical mucus becomes Niagara Falls in your mind and the slightest nipple twinge gets flame thrower status. However, the Hubster and I are hesitantly pegging my hopeful ovulation at around day 23 or 24. Which means I am potentially at 10 or 11 DPO. Who knows? When one is told she doesn't ovulate, it's hard to know what the heck's going on. I guess I'll know if I ovulated or not this month when I ...

a)give birth in 9 months
b)get my period and phone the specialist for my Day 28 blood work results.

Sigh....

At least I'll get to try out my new baby making microscope next month. I tested it out the other day and my specimen looks just like the picture on the box. Dried spit on a lens. Sweet.

In other news,

Spring has sprung and all the humans have procreated.
Our Canadian winters are long and cold. So all of a sudden, after much sexy hibernation, our fertile little valley is proving to be just that!

We went to the first farmer's market of the season yesterday (it was awesome, we go every week) and it seemed like every one there was either sporting a baby or a bump. Even though we were in our happy place and on a fresh food buying rampage, we did do just a tiny bit of coveting and staring...

Nicholas and I tend to revert back to our juvenile selves when we're really jonesin' for babes. For example, last week after our disappointing doctor's appointment we went for a scenic drive to the lake, ate lots of junk food, bought baby names books from a thrift store and then came home to spend hours on-line. Him buying Lego swords me blogging my brains out.

This weekend has been no different...Yesterday, I played with that little techno barbie of myself on the sidebar and the Hubster made a slide show of freaky fantasy creatures for his screen saver. What Dorks!

Last night we had a fire in the pit in the back yard with some friends and today, we went to the 2nd annual search and rescue gear swap.
Tons of cool stuff!

Like last year, we spent time fingering the baby carriers, trikes and mini wetsuits, but in the end we left with a mint condition red beach cruiser bike. Is it just me or do we buy a bike every time we are feeling blue about babies? Last year this time, we left the gear swap with a $15 dollar mountain bike for the Hubster.

We don't really need another bike but it felt wrong to leave without it!
It was such a good deal and it's so cool! We tried doubling each other but soon realized that that particular pass time is meant for kids. We've been very gracious taking turns today, mostly because it started to rain, but I know we'll be fighting over it in no time.

We'd better get knocked up soon because we don't have room in our basement for any more bikes...

Gotta fly the sun's out again and I can hear the Hubster messing with my bike!

supplement to monster post

A few details I left out of my blog rant.

The wait time as described in my previous post is another 3 months.

And, the Doctor wants me to phone when I get my next period so that he can review my tests. If my hormones are still total crap, after these first three months on Metformin, we may reconsider the additional three month wait.

Lisalou's monster sized post

I think my husband put it best when he said that the only time we are actually going to be happy and excited upon leaving a Doctor's office is if the visit includes the words, "Congratulations you're pregnant! Good on you!"

Today's visit was disappointing.

My doctor, to be fair, was a gentleman. I guess. I still believe he has my best interest in mind, but by my best interest I mean my general overall well being- not the, Where is this deserving, loving, hopeful woman's freakin' baby world? Bring it on already for fuck's sakes!- kind of well being.

He spent a decent amount of time with us and showed a reasonable amount of interest and compassion. But remember, I'm a Drama teacher and I can see through his well rehearsed bedside manner shtick and I wasn't feeling a lot of genuine love. Like it matters. I'm such a sappy broad...

Enough already, here are the details:

He didn't tell me anything that I hadn't read before in a book (Remember I read 6 enthralling PCOS books back in January), blog or fertility related website. Which is kind of lame because I was hoping to be enlightened. I needed to be enlightened. I was hoping for some sort of magical baby making information to spring forth from his mouth to give me renewed hope. Instead, I was fact checking in my own mind and discussing logistics with him as if were in some sort infertility club for geeks.

He looked at my charts and asked me for evidence of any secondary signs of ovulation. I said anything I feel my body is doing these days could be misinterpreted because I am so hyper sensitive that I swear I'm making shit up. Did my left ovary just do a little hula dance? Is this cervical mucus more cappuccino or latte like? Is that a baby implanting I feel, or are my pants to tight? Do my tits look bigger? Who knows?

I told him about my dietary changes but he barely even registered this as relevant news. However, we did agree that my chart is still fucked looking. He seemed to think that my temperatures may be falling into some sort of recognizable pattern. He wants to wait and see what happens.

That's right folks "wait"! There's a flippin' novel idea!

I mean, it's good and all... I don't WANT to go on Clomid. I don't WANT to put unnecessary drugs into my body. I would love for my my body to just smarten up and do the natural thing, but it's just that it's let me down so many times before. I don't believe that if I left the office today with a prescription, which I'm pretty sure I could have gotten with very little effort at all, that I would be happier. And, I am certainly glad that my dude is not the type to push drugs and treatments...it's just that instead of feeling one step closer to my family coming to life I feel, I feel like we're going backwards.

As he flipped through my past tests, trying to place me in a sea of desperate infertiles, he seemed confident that I did indeed ovulate. Once. In October. "Yeah", I reminded him, "On day 27 or something. I guess there's a pretty good chance for pregnancy when there's 3 days between ovulation and menstruation, hey?" This caused his memory to stir and suddenly talk of Clomid and the interventions I may need in the future started to surface. Words like : the next step, injectables, how far down the road are you willing to go, you'll need to start discussing, it's different for everyone...

Yipee.

I did push for one thing though.

I wanted my twice a month blood tests to detect ovulation to be reinstated, because otherwise what's the point? Why am I even bothering taking Metformin? Sure, it's lovely that I've balanced out my insulin levels,fit into my skinny jeans, and solved other mild PCOS related woes.But until I know, at the very least, what the heck is actually going on in that surly womb of mine, I wont be satisfied.

brought to you by...

Good Morning!

Many of you may be wondering why I am still at home in my PJ's at 9:15 am on a Tuesday ...

Well, this lazy weekday morning has been generously sponsored by my gracious infertility! It seems that having bunk-ass hormones and stuff really does have perks. Har Har.

Seriously though, this morning is the much anticipated morning of my specialist appointment and I have taken the whole day off. Partly because of the timing of the appointment and how it would be a pain for me to plan for a sub for part of my,already weird part-time, work day. But mostly because I want to be available for any blood tests, prescription pick-ups or emotional melt downs that may ensue.

Nicholas is coming with me. I wanted support, yes. Also, I wanted someone to remember instructions, facts and all that brain type stuff for me. I wanted some to make sure my Doctor doesn't try and sell me a rusted-out Pinto with no engine. As you can see, my feelings about my specialist are mixed at best. We had such a great first appointment with him. He was attentive, sympathetic, informative and thorough. We were smitten. Then, after my horrendously sterile, lonely, rushed, painful and impersonal HSG, I was majorly turned off! I haven't seen or spoke to him since. Nice follow up buddy! That was January. I am hoping that we will kiss and make up today but I am bringing the Hubster to defend my honor just in case.

Last night I dreamt of babies, pregnancies, best and worst case scenarios. One of the goodies was that I was already preggers. One of the baddies was that the Doctor took one look at me and my charts and said. " Sorry, it ain't never gonna happen for you kid."

I guess an experience somewhere in the middle of those two extremes would be most likely.
And most acceptable.

Here's hoping...

Infertile dork on the loose

You give me time, my credit card and the Internet and what do I go and do?

I start spending cash money like a crazy fool that's what!

I came down to our cozy basement office tonight with simple and innocent intentions. I planned to check my email and buy some generic OPKs online. After several minutes of sifting through the Internet's tantalizing offerings, I decided that I really needed a OvaTel fertility monitor.

Oh yes indeedy!

I decided that this here little beauty is the one piece of baby making technology that will do the trick for me.

Yes. I feel a little silly.

But it was such a bargain!

You know you've got it bad when you're bargain hunting for fertility shwag.

My excuse is that I've NEVER once had a positive reading on a OPK so I must show my true fertile self in more of a saliva way than a pee way.

Now that I think of it .... there are a lot of drool stains on my pillow.

Here's hoping...

simple

Another pregnancy was announced this week.

And, I admit, after smiling sincerely through the last dozen announcements, that I am not pleased.

I am not pleased and I am not smiling.

Oh sure, deep down at my purest level I know, when it is required of me, I will express happiness for her and her soon to be expanding belly/family.
But mostly, I am scared.

Scared about what this means for me.

I fear that for each pregnancy that gets announced, for each baby that is conceived, that there is one less baby out there for me. That somehow, my chances go down. I mean everyone has someone in their group of friends that never conceives a child right? There are statistics to support this idea. And what if in my group of friends that someone is me?

I know I'll be a mother. I know we'll have a family. I know we'll adopt if this whole baby making thing doesn't pan out. But adopting is not easy (or cheap) either. Why does this have to be so hard? Why do so many people get knocked up with out even trying? Caring? Or even wanting a family? Why do I have to be the one with treatments, schedules, charts, formulas and drugs? Why do I have to be the one just trying to relax?

Harrumph. Sigh. Grunt.

Exhale.

Well, the lubey sensations that I was anticipating and so hopped up about haven't yet materialized and after spending $39.99 on OPKs I have yet to see a surge of sorts. I haven't given up. I've got two pee sticks left.


The doin' it is proceeding as if I were ovulating because, hey, why not? My huband figures I am ovulating because, "I am a girl." That's his logic.


I wish it were that simple.
For me.
For all of us.

Here's hoping.

The Next Step

The magical baby making window is upon us and all systems are go:

I had acupuncture last week that was augmented with some electrical pulses. Very interesting. I have another appointment this week.

I have a fresh batch of Chinese Herbs.

I had a comical baby dream in which I had a tiny boy baby. He had a full set a teeth and a fabulous vocabulary. For some very odd reason his name was Robert Walker Moral Williams. None of these names are on our our list, although Hubster is taken with Moral as a middle name. ( ?) Any hoo, he was a delightful little creature, playing tricks on me, bantering wittily with Nicholas and telling me that I have very pretty hair.

I seem to have lubey developments in the cervical mucous department.

I went to Chanti's 3rd annual spring wienie roast and rubbed the bellies of three pregnant friends.

I have a fresh batch of Metformin and was bestowed with a bunch of friendly, local, relevant, recent,positive and factual success stories from my adorable pharmacist.

I bought a cute new t-shirt. Ooops, that doesn't count.

I have a delicious Hubster.


Here's hoping....



Side Note:

I have had a wee bit of sugar this week. I know. I know. But to be fair it was just little tastes here and there. Never a full-on binge.Never crap. Always quality homemade. But still..flour and sugar = evil. Most treats don't even tempt me these days. But my husband made a traditional, boiled, marmalade pudding. Fuck me!

I am putting all this info out there in Blogland just to ensure that I keep it real.

Peace Out.

The way it goes

It is officially the silly season around here. The birds are singing, the trees are coming back to life, work is nuts and the weather is bizarre! It's not at all unusual to mow the lawn in the warm sunshine before lunch and hide inside watching the cold, wet sleet fall all afternoon.. Ahhh.... Spring! The days are longer too, flooding the house with glorious day light, awakening us from our slumber, and illuminating the layers of soot, dust and filth that have accumulated throughout our long hibernation.

What I'm trying to say is, yesterday was Spring Cleaning Day. The Hubster and I spent three hours toiling in the muck. We recycled, dusted, laundered, windexed, scrubbed and mopped. It felt good in a sick sorta way. Neither one of us is big on keeping house so there was a fair bit of bartering and reverse delegating going on. Very. Serious. Business. I'm talking we even cleaned the burners on the freaking stove! Nicholas' pitch for trying to get out of that one was that he didn't know how. Yeah Right. Nice try buddy. It's called cover the lot in harsh soapy chemicals and scrub them until they're clean. I think my exact words were "You've got a university degree, figure it out!"

Well at one point, right before we crossed the finish line, I noticed that all had gone quite. The whining had stopped. I put down my sponge and listened carefully. I heard him puttering around down in the basement and I figured he was taking himself a little time out. I decided not to nag as he had had a tough go of the morning. Ten minutes later he resurfaced wearing the above placard, and a hard hat. He walked into the kitchen, circling me, singing while playing a somber and very strait faced version of Kumbaya on his guitar.

I have never laughed so hard in my life!

I fricken' love this man!

We collapsed on the bed in tears and I wiped my eyes and said...
"You know that's going on the blog right?"

Well our house was as spotless as a 60 year old house could be for about 12 hours because this morning I had a shower. I had a shower that resulted in a flooded basement. Which in turn, resulted in a caffeine induced, impromptu demolition frenzy. Our tub surround and all of it's nasty, mouldy underthings were dragged about the house. And now, boxes of toilet paper, tools and soaps seek refuge in our bedrooms and hallways.

Thank goodness that the Hubster and his buddy Lucas were up to the challenge. They even carted all the junk away to the dump upon request.

Oh well...that's they way it goes. I've wanted a new tub surround for awhile now.

Just goes to show though, that cleaning, can never come to any good.