It has begun. Our fertility fund account is officially depleated, the checks signed and handed over, the schedule arranged, the medication has changed hands. I would say there's no going back, but that's not entirely true as I could change my mind at any moment and call the whole thing off......... but I won't!
My 1st appointment was this morning and we're ready to go. I'm off the pill (Thank God) and ready to start the injections in a few days. My baseline follicle count is higher then the first go of IVF, which is a good start. Hoping the positive news will keep coming in!!!
With all of the above, the nerves are also making their initial appearance. It's all just theoretical until the money changes hands. Writing that big ass check and handing it over is a strange sensation. Shouldn't I get a car or something for this amount? Then a second whammy at the pharmacist, another 3 grand and change. Bringing the current total to around $14000. Definitely should get a car..........
Those that know me know I am not a stresser outer. I am not a worry wart or an anxiety attack waiting to happen. What I am is a what iffer. I can go back to everything in my entire life and mentally argue every aspect of that event. What if this, what if that. This makes me indecisive and unable to let go. Of anything.
I make decisions about people's lives all day at work, but can't formulate an opinion about where to go to dinner. I'm starting the what if conversation about trying IVF again after the first round failed completely. To see this money come and go with nothing to show for it is very difficult. Then to voluntarily do it again? You can see my dilema.
But here we are again and I'm not changing my mind.
Here's a lost thought..............
Writing in this blog is suddenly reminding me of the end of every Doogie Howser episode~
He sits at his computer and ponders that episode's dramatic occurance and draws some kind of poetic conclusion.
Just a though................
So here we go. Game on. Getting the show on the road. In five days it's injections twice a day, then a few days before anther Dr. appointment with blood work and an ultrasound. From there they may change the meds around, add some, subtract some, depending on how the follicles are progressing. Current ETA for egg retrieval is 9-14, my Birthday. Hoping a happy b-day with good news and tons and tons of eggs! Good eggs. No, don't send me eggs for my birthday, I'll produce my own~
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Small Town, USA
I attended a Corn Festival on Saturday night in Heber, AZ. I had to go and visit some of the kids on my case load, and Heber is about 2 hours away, so hubby and I decided to make a weekend out of it.
Heber is a small town north-east of Phoenix. For reference, it's about 45 minutes past Payson, then another 35 minutes from Heber to Show Low.
The foster Mother of the kids is a very young 67, full of spit and vinegar. She's everyone's grandmother, hugging all who enter, asking if you're hungry or thirty or if you have to pee. My kids like her but are in the middle of settling in by testing all of the boundaries. Especially the oldest, "John", who is 15. John's a skater boy: longer hair, tight jeans, concert tees, swaggery walk, IPOD permanently embedded in one ear with fast, screaming people music. The biggest adjustment for John is the fact that the majority of the Heber community, meaning about 95%, is Mormon.
Which brings us full swing back to the Corn Festival. Foster Mom didn't tell John (or me) that the Festival was a church gathering. Imagine our surprise when the Bishop stood on a log and started preaching.
I am not the biggest fan of organized religion, however, I AM a fan of to each his own. I was not bothered by the ruse of calling a church pot-luck a festival. I am one of those people who generally makes my own good time. I was a little jaw dropped when the Bishop's story about some guy during the Civil War took a turn down the "blackards" path; the story suddenly involving racial slurs in a non-chalant tone.
There are places in the States where time has appparently stopped. With all of the advancements and science and education, it does not seem possible people choose to keep blinders on their own eyes.
After the long winded, racially motivated story ended - 30+ minutes later - we were able to hit the tables of food. These tables included 50 desserts, 40 varieties of potatoe salad, pasta salad, and lettuce, and of course, corn. This was the best corn we've had in years!
It was my first vegetarian Morman gathering. I survived, as did my husband and the foster children.
We spent the rest of the weekend hiking and camping, marveling at how diverse Arizona really is. There are few placed you can go from desert and saguaro to cool air and pines in 45 minutes. We discovered Small Town, USA is like many of the antique stores you find there: bits and peices stuck in time, needing some new paint or a repair, with all the shiny pretty things out on display but the real items in the back room, never changing.
Heber is a small town north-east of Phoenix. For reference, it's about 45 minutes past Payson, then another 35 minutes from Heber to Show Low.
The foster Mother of the kids is a very young 67, full of spit and vinegar. She's everyone's grandmother, hugging all who enter, asking if you're hungry or thirty or if you have to pee. My kids like her but are in the middle of settling in by testing all of the boundaries. Especially the oldest, "John", who is 15. John's a skater boy: longer hair, tight jeans, concert tees, swaggery walk, IPOD permanently embedded in one ear with fast, screaming people music. The biggest adjustment for John is the fact that the majority of the Heber community, meaning about 95%, is Mormon.
Which brings us full swing back to the Corn Festival. Foster Mom didn't tell John (or me) that the Festival was a church gathering. Imagine our surprise when the Bishop stood on a log and started preaching.
I am not the biggest fan of organized religion, however, I AM a fan of to each his own. I was not bothered by the ruse of calling a church pot-luck a festival. I am one of those people who generally makes my own good time. I was a little jaw dropped when the Bishop's story about some guy during the Civil War took a turn down the "blackards" path; the story suddenly involving racial slurs in a non-chalant tone.
There are places in the States where time has appparently stopped. With all of the advancements and science and education, it does not seem possible people choose to keep blinders on their own eyes.
After the long winded, racially motivated story ended - 30+ minutes later - we were able to hit the tables of food. These tables included 50 desserts, 40 varieties of potatoe salad, pasta salad, and lettuce, and of course, corn. This was the best corn we've had in years!
It was my first vegetarian Morman gathering. I survived, as did my husband and the foster children.
We spent the rest of the weekend hiking and camping, marveling at how diverse Arizona really is. There are few placed you can go from desert and saguaro to cool air and pines in 45 minutes. We discovered Small Town, USA is like many of the antique stores you find there: bits and peices stuck in time, needing some new paint or a repair, with all the shiny pretty things out on display but the real items in the back room, never changing.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Canine Freakus Outus
I have an ongoing issue with my canine.
Since moving from home to apartment, my dog, Veto, is absolutely FREAKING OUT!!!
I am aware that the dog's sense of smell is a gazillion times stronger then us, but since when did that translate to frothing at the mouth and whining? He looks rabid every time I walk him. Not to mention he is pulling on the leash so hard he is dragging me about and making this coughing choking noise. We get a few looks from the other residents.... probably wondering if the front office verified this psycho pooch got his immunizations.
Once upon a time, I took Veto to the local dog park. He hid behind me when a feroceous 10lb Boston Terrier arrived at the scene. To back up, Veto is a 50lb shepard/doberman mix. This terrier was smaller then his head, but must've been scary to Veto somehow.
There's an on site dog park in the complex, the main reason we signed up here as opposed to the other thousand apartment complexes within 5 miles. I thought we would be ok, he'd just be a big chicken as usual and go about his 'business' quickly in order to get the hell away from the other dogs. But oh no. He goes from chicken to psycho rabid dog, barking and running at every dog he sees. Now I have to wait until there isn't a single soul near the dog park to take him.
And he still froths at the mouth and whines.
He's also started doing a cat impression by lying on the back of my now deformed couch so he can look out the window. He can see a teeny tiny part of the dog park from this position. He lets you know if he sees any movement by whining and barking and jumping about, although I must admit there's been improvement as he used to go through these motions when the wind blew or a bird flew by. You could tell his depth perception was a little muddled being on the third floor where the birds fly by; as opposed to his usual 'chase them when they land on the ground' vision.
I'm hoping we get past this because I truly feel bad for him. I want him to make a friend, get along well with others, be polite. All the things everyone wants for their children, only mine's four legged and drools white foam.
Since moving from home to apartment, my dog, Veto, is absolutely FREAKING OUT!!!
I am aware that the dog's sense of smell is a gazillion times stronger then us, but since when did that translate to frothing at the mouth and whining? He looks rabid every time I walk him. Not to mention he is pulling on the leash so hard he is dragging me about and making this coughing choking noise. We get a few looks from the other residents.... probably wondering if the front office verified this psycho pooch got his immunizations.
Once upon a time, I took Veto to the local dog park. He hid behind me when a feroceous 10lb Boston Terrier arrived at the scene. To back up, Veto is a 50lb shepard/doberman mix. This terrier was smaller then his head, but must've been scary to Veto somehow.
There's an on site dog park in the complex, the main reason we signed up here as opposed to the other thousand apartment complexes within 5 miles. I thought we would be ok, he'd just be a big chicken as usual and go about his 'business' quickly in order to get the hell away from the other dogs. But oh no. He goes from chicken to psycho rabid dog, barking and running at every dog he sees. Now I have to wait until there isn't a single soul near the dog park to take him.
And he still froths at the mouth and whines.
He's also started doing a cat impression by lying on the back of my now deformed couch so he can look out the window. He can see a teeny tiny part of the dog park from this position. He lets you know if he sees any movement by whining and barking and jumping about, although I must admit there's been improvement as he used to go through these motions when the wind blew or a bird flew by. You could tell his depth perception was a little muddled being on the third floor where the birds fly by; as opposed to his usual 'chase them when they land on the ground' vision.
I'm hoping we get past this because I truly feel bad for him. I want him to make a friend, get along well with others, be polite. All the things everyone wants for their children, only mine's four legged and drools white foam.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
THE PILL
If you look at the list of side effects on any medication I consume, it's a pretty safe bet that I have at least three of the top five. At a minimum.
My Doctor put me on THE PILL. Why is it that everyone knows exactly which one I am referring to when there are billions of pills out there?
In order for IVF to be successful and get pregnant, I have to go on birth control first. Seem a little bass-ackwards to you?!? Hell, whatever works.......
The first week I was nauseous all day. No food appealed, no smell failed to disgust. I have a mental comparison this must be how some morning sickness plays out. Now it's the second week and I'm tired all the time, my boobs are killing me, and I still get grossed out at the silliest things. All this before I get into the heavy duty fertility artilary..... shots.
The last time I went through this, one year ago to be exact, I didn't have much reaction to the meds. There was one shot that I got a burning sensation and rash from - sounds pretty dirty, doesn't it- but that was it. Most people get no reaction from the pill but then become tempermental wack-jobs from the hormone shots.
Is it me?
Don't answer that. Really.
But being on THE PILL means official countdown is ticking. 6 more days taking the pill. 11 days until I start injections. Not sure how many days until they do the retrieval as it depends on how well the shots work, but four days after that we put the little boogers into the holding chamber, then 14 days to see if they're sticking around.
I am currently focusing on the tick tock of the next 6 days until I can throw the stupid pill pack away forever and kiss the nausea it enduces good-bye! And yes, I know that the nausea is likely to return with pregnancy, but that will be well worth it!!
Keeping the focus on one thing at a time is my only means of controlling my fate. I cannot allow myself to ponder the big picture yet because this will lead to remembering the last time we tried and failed, which will not help anything. So this week we focus on the evil pill and the six days I have left to swallow it's venom trying to obtain the ultimate goal.
Next week we'll discuss the proper procudure for shooting up!
My Doctor put me on THE PILL. Why is it that everyone knows exactly which one I am referring to when there are billions of pills out there?
In order for IVF to be successful and get pregnant, I have to go on birth control first. Seem a little bass-ackwards to you?!? Hell, whatever works.......
The first week I was nauseous all day. No food appealed, no smell failed to disgust. I have a mental comparison this must be how some morning sickness plays out. Now it's the second week and I'm tired all the time, my boobs are killing me, and I still get grossed out at the silliest things. All this before I get into the heavy duty fertility artilary..... shots.
The last time I went through this, one year ago to be exact, I didn't have much reaction to the meds. There was one shot that I got a burning sensation and rash from - sounds pretty dirty, doesn't it- but that was it. Most people get no reaction from the pill but then become tempermental wack-jobs from the hormone shots.
Is it me?
Don't answer that. Really.
But being on THE PILL means official countdown is ticking. 6 more days taking the pill. 11 days until I start injections. Not sure how many days until they do the retrieval as it depends on how well the shots work, but four days after that we put the little boogers into the holding chamber, then 14 days to see if they're sticking around.
I am currently focusing on the tick tock of the next 6 days until I can throw the stupid pill pack away forever and kiss the nausea it enduces good-bye! And yes, I know that the nausea is likely to return with pregnancy, but that will be well worth it!!
Keeping the focus on one thing at a time is my only means of controlling my fate. I cannot allow myself to ponder the big picture yet because this will lead to remembering the last time we tried and failed, which will not help anything. So this week we focus on the evil pill and the six days I have left to swallow it's venom trying to obtain the ultimate goal.
Next week we'll discuss the proper procudure for shooting up!
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Downsizing
I hear this word a lot these days..... downsizing. I used to think of it as a business word for minimizing, but now I think different. Why? Because I was forced to downsize from a house to an apartment! This was not a task collaborative of minimizing. There were many things that went the way of Goodwill or the garbage, but those items hardly made a dent in the overall scheme of things. There were still a gazillion boxes of crap to pack and move. Then the separation began of what was going to storage or to the apartment. Then the realization that the apartment pile was larger then the apartment space caused more commotion and consideration.
We only have four months to live in the new smaller space - our new home is scheduled for completion in December. This creates a dilema for this OCDecorator because I don't want to spend the time and money decorating this space for just four months, but I don't know if I can live with white walls and mini blinds, either.
I am a compulsive painter.
Every room in my last house was a different color, from green to purple to blue, no theme was unobtainable once I got the juices flowing. When we listed the house, the blue room went back to white and it was so stark and boring!!!!
Now I come 'home' to the apartment and everything's white with cardboard box accents. Yikes.
But back to my original thought process regarding downsizing, it's a pain in the ass. Where did my other two bedrooms go? My backyard? My linen closet for God's sake? I had to purchase pretty baskets for the bathroom for all my crap because it's out in the open now. And yes, I'm a prissy girl with A LOT of bathroom lotions and potions~
At the end of the day, I rely on the thought of UPsizing - the new house is going to seem like a mansion when we move in. I'll have five different bedrooms to paint, not to mention the living areas and 2 2/2 baths. AAHHHH. I can smell the familiar comfort of the fumes now..........
We only have four months to live in the new smaller space - our new home is scheduled for completion in December. This creates a dilema for this OCDecorator because I don't want to spend the time and money decorating this space for just four months, but I don't know if I can live with white walls and mini blinds, either.
I am a compulsive painter.
Every room in my last house was a different color, from green to purple to blue, no theme was unobtainable once I got the juices flowing. When we listed the house, the blue room went back to white and it was so stark and boring!!!!
Now I come 'home' to the apartment and everything's white with cardboard box accents. Yikes.
But back to my original thought process regarding downsizing, it's a pain in the ass. Where did my other two bedrooms go? My backyard? My linen closet for God's sake? I had to purchase pretty baskets for the bathroom for all my crap because it's out in the open now. And yes, I'm a prissy girl with A LOT of bathroom lotions and potions~
At the end of the day, I rely on the thought of UPsizing - the new house is going to seem like a mansion when we move in. I'll have five different bedrooms to paint, not to mention the living areas and 2 2/2 baths. AAHHHH. I can smell the familiar comfort of the fumes now..........
Monday, August 21, 2006
why the heck not
OK. So I have discovered that any ol' somebody with an ability to type can start up a blog. At the moment, I don't have a lot to dicuss, but that also doesn't appear to be an issue for anyone else with a blog. There are blogs on everything, including nothing, which is what you will find here until I can think of something more interesting to write about.
In the meantime, I'll go home and start downloading some crap to make the page more visually appealing while listing to my husband laugh his ass off that I actually started a blog.
In the future, we'll cover such topics as my job as a social worker with Child Protective Services, our second try at IVF, living in an apartment while we wait for our new house to be completed, and (I hope) in the future, the family can check out pictures of our children. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
So for now I'm just typing to myself (as opposed to talking to myself ha ha ha) and trying to think of what to say next. I guess we'll find out together - we being me, myself, and I until I actually tell someone I am starting a blog or someone else happens to stumble upon it!
In the meantime, I'll go home and start downloading some crap to make the page more visually appealing while listing to my husband laugh his ass off that I actually started a blog.
In the future, we'll cover such topics as my job as a social worker with Child Protective Services, our second try at IVF, living in an apartment while we wait for our new house to be completed, and (I hope) in the future, the family can check out pictures of our children. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
So for now I'm just typing to myself (as opposed to talking to myself ha ha ha) and trying to think of what to say next. I guess we'll find out together - we being me, myself, and I until I actually tell someone I am starting a blog or someone else happens to stumble upon it!
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