Fertility Quest: How Are You Peeling? Part II

So, aside from the Pox On Our House (POOH) right now, my nausea has abated. Please don't go through any kind of intellectual exercise on what that might mean . . . if I am pregnant or not. I already did that, and Erik said, "Maybe God is just helping you have an easier day." Right-to!

FYI, I am on progesterone. Progesterone causes constipation. Constipation leads to hemorrhoids. And, if you are a lucky experienced sufferer of hemorrhoids from a previous IVF round or pregnancy, then you know exactly what I mean.

In case you didn't know that among the sprays, creams, and other topical issues for hemorrhoids. There is a CHAIR that lauds hemorrhoid relief. It is called the Lillypad. (image from website)



If that doesn't bring you relief, know full well that many women before us suffered from this malady. And, no, knowing that doesn't make it easier for me either.

Found on Hemroids

And, today, I was lucky enough to have a suspicion confirmed. I am allergic to sesame oil. My progesterone shots are based in sesame oil. I have been getting welts on my butt with each progesterone shot, and the welts keep getting bigger. Today, I had a sweet one that was 3 inches in diameter, red, and puffy and painful.

So, three hours on the phone with the fertility clinic and the insurance company, I think that I am getting progesterone in olive oil. But, I don't know if the prescription has been called in yet or when I'll get the new stuff.

So, here is hoping the prescription gets called in timely enough for a tomorrow delivery. Who wants to bet how big the next welt will be?

Chills and Thrills

Someone Put a Pox On Our House (POOH).

And when I say, pox, I mean misfortune and calamity.

All last week we were sick; except Erik who was barely keeping all of us and himself together. Acid-Reflux-Everett continues to gag up on his medicine. (we've gone through all our towels twice) I was horridly sick. Very, very sick.

And, I am a bit better today, but Everett has pink-eye again, 3X in same eye with barely a day without symptoms between the flaring up (and now a cold), and we are going to see his eye specialist. Erik now has pink eye. And, this week, I've had some very fun side effects come up (read more on How Are You Peeling? Part II).

So, as we try and manage the POOH, we are also trying to figure out what needs to be redone in the house to start getting it ready to sell. No, we don't have a job. No, we haven't put the house on the market. But, in the next months I will either be pregnant or going through FET again, and we should get a start on all of this.

Aside from that, we did have some fun moments. Here are our Thrills for the past week.

Erik: I was able to donate the Prelude to Purple Heart Car Donation and feel great that it will help someone else. It definitely was a great car for a long, long time. I am now on a new project where I don't need to travel to Maryland which will make having one car easier on us.

Sheila: The FET transfer went well, and we still have 2 cryofrozen-Han-Solo-babies-to-be ready to go if this round is not successful.

Everett: I got new shoes! Okay, Mom griped just a bit over the fact that she couldn't find the type of shoes that I need in the less expensive shoe stores, but what did she expect? I am a big boy! I love my new shoes.

Erik and I are thrilled at just how many words Everett picks up everyday. On the way home from an errand this morning, he asked for his "affe" . . . his "giraffe"--His walking is becoming more fluid even with the new shoes. He says "hi" and "bye" to everyone and everyroom. He is a prolific meow-er and has recently started calling the squirrels "cat." He is such a joy and has a great sense of humor.

We hope to get some video soon showing you some of Everett's tricks, some of the signs he uses, and to show off his walking. Here's hoping we rid the POOH from our home soon!

Easter Activity

I haven't spent anytime on the new website from the LDS church about Jesus Christ. My goal today is to spend time reading through the messages. Currently, I've only enjoyed the artwork shown.

Fertility Quest: Company Ranking of Fertility and Adoption Benefits

Conceive's Top 50 Companies: Ranking for 2008

For those looking to see what employers have options for fertility benefits and adoption benefits, click on the link above and check out the list.

72 Hour Kits

Everett and I have been "working" on our 72 hour kits for a couple of weeks now. We haven't updated them since Everett joined us and . . . well, I was at least two sizes smaller in clothing back then.

Thanks to a great tip from my sister, we made sure to buy a backpack for Everett's stuff when they were on sale at the end of the school year "supply buying season." That was months ago. For our family Christmas presents, I purchased several items like a radio and a couple of lights and lanterns that are those wind-and-go types from L.L. Bean. We are almost finished, almost.

I am finishing up the food--the menu. And then, the other day, I came across this:
Mock Emergency

Boy am I going to finish those kits this week! Here is a list that I used to get started. This list is a pretty extensive one. I haven't purchased an axe. And, Erik is of the persuasion that we won't need that . . . unless we are going for the '72 hour kit: woodman edition.' I don't expect to be running like Harrison Ford in The Fugitive.

We are finishing tomorrow for Family Home Evening. Go check your kits and see how stale those crackers are!

March Madness

If you haven't kept up with with Longhorn basketball this season, then you are just in time to jump into March Madness.

We are tied into it. And, it will give you something to cool to talk about at the water cooler or when you are choosing which beverage to buy in The Office's break room.

The Past Week

So, we've been pretty sick. And, by "we" I mean Everett and me. We are finally coming out of it, but we are too sick to sit through any kind of church tomorrow. (if you want two hacking, mucous spitting people to come sit by you in church tomorrow, just let us know)

Other than that, things are going quickly. Everett is getting so smooth with the walking and I am trying to catch up with work. I should be working on work rather than posting this, but you know how that goes.

I just wanted to say that we are alive, barely. And, we'll be up and running again pretty soon with all kinds of video, tantalizing updates, and witty comments.

Happy Easter!

Fertility Quest: The Transfer

The transfer went extremely well today. I love my clinic. I love the booties they make us wear. I love the dentist chair they had me lay in for the procedure . . . it was the most comfortable examination table I have ever had the chance to grace, and grace it, I did.

I loved that the doctor walked us through each step of the process. I love that I did drink enough water for the procedure (a bit too much, in fact). And, since I am loving everything right now, I love my progesterone shots. Actually, I don't. (good try, though, right?)

Thank you to AMY for watching Everett!

Thank you to many of your calls and emails and packages.

I especially want to thank that person who called while we were eating lunch. Your compliments to Erik were such that you raised his spirits immeasurably. Erik is a support to me in all of this, and though we support one another, it was great to have someone call and be Erik's support.

Amazingly, it only took thawing two of the embryos to get two viable embryos. We were astounded at this good fortune. I spend all afternoon in bed and will be in bed tomorrow, too. Sitting in a chair is okay, but for some reason I feel like any time I cough, especially when I am sitting, that I am going to cough the embryos right out of me.

Aside from my cold and ear infection, I've had some cramping and spotting. That is all part of this business.

Now, it is The Wait. It will take several weeks before we are sure whether the embryos implanted or not. I don't know if I will post after each result* or just wait until I know a definite 'yes' or a definite 'no'.

So, to be trite, I'll say, "No news is good news."

*There will be three pregnancy tests (the blood draw type, not the pee on the stick type) and two OB sonograms, one at 6 weeks and one at 8 weeks.

Fertility Quest: Earache, ER, Emails

So, I woke up this morning with a horrid, horrid earache. And, I was able to better understand how Everett is feeling. I think that if I were able to take Ibuprofen, I would have been able to endure waiting to see the doctor until Monday. But, I just couldn't wait. The Tylenol just wasn't cutting it.

After throwing up several times (stinky fridge), writhing around on the bathroom floor with a pounding head and ear, I hauled myself to the ER. Luckily, in sleepy suburb Reston, no one is at the ER on early Sunday morning. No gunshot or stab wounds to jump ahead of the crazy lady complaining about her ear.

And my nurse was fresh out of nursing school. It was almost hysterical to listen to her explain how to take an antibiotic as she kept referring to her notes. I was very patient as I became the patient that she practiced getting vitals on (gotta get something from the crazy lady complaining about her ear). The whole time I kept thinking about my little sister Debbie . . . mostly because she was blond and nice, just like Debbie.

Ear infection. The ER doctor and my reproductive endocrinologist were able to agree upon a couple medications that I can take. Quick visit to Target. And then Vicodin induced sleep for almost four hours. SLEEP!

It is almost Monday, and I am finally starting to feel better. I am not trying to be melodramatic. I am trying to be grateful.

Thanks to everyone who emailed and called to be supportive. If I haven't responded, I will. And I am very appreciative of the wishes for good luck and a quick recovery.

The clinic called today with my transfer time on Tuesday. 1:00. 1:00 in the afternoon, I will be reunited with my cryofrozen-Han-Solo-babies-to-be, hopefully.

Fertility Quest: An "F" What?

So, I can't sleep. I haven't really explained about the FET (frozen embryo transfer). I'll take this time to explain it.


Background
When Erik and I went through IVF in 2006, we were blessed to have 6 viable embryos to transfer. Embryos are graded (sort of like diamonds). At our clinic the embryos are graded with alphabet letters . . . 'A' is perfect. Our embryos were graded 'B's. After two were transferred to me, we had decided to cryofreeze the others for future IVF opportunities. Luckily, one of the two transferred embryos hung around, and we were blessed with Everett.

Cryofrozen Han Solo Babies
We have four frozen embryos. Not just eggs, actually fertilized embryos. They are in the blastocyst stage (Day 5). Under the recommendation of our doctor, we are going to transfer two embryos again. The clinic is very conservative in preferring not to overload the patient and drastically increase the chances of a multiple pregnancy.

What I mean is, this clinic doesn't just get ladies pregnant by any aggressive means possible. This clinic doesn't just pump you full of fertilized embryos and "graduate" you to the OB to carry quadruplets in order to justify their success rates of assisting couples in getting pregnant. Their goal is to help you get pregnant and prepare you for a full-term baby. This is the reason they are transferring two embryos instead of all four at once. I think of it as responsible reproductive science.

The current success rate for successful thaw of the embryos is 90%. The lab will only thaw up to two viable embryos. Hopefully, it won't take all four embryos to get to two viable ones for transfer.

Now, there is a chance that none will thaw successfully. We are prepared for that.

The Transfer
On Sunday or Monday, the lab will call us with the time of the transfer. The transfer itself is oddly anti-climatic. You go in with a semi-full bladder. Lay on that dang uncomfortable table with stirrups until the doctor comes in with the lab scientists. They go through all the security questions.

Then they insert a catheter into the uterus. You watch the sonogram screen like a hawk because when they flush the embryos through the catheter there is a brief white flash. Then the embryos are free to roam and implant.

You then get to wait a bit more on the table. The staff verifies that the embryos were not left in the catheter. You try to make as many jokes as possible with those around you.

They discharge you. You go home, bedrest for 24 hours, and wait.

But Wait: Where Do They Keep the Frozen Embryos?
Our embryos reside in a facility in Maryland, and extensive security protocols are used to protect the embryos and us. There were several paper forms that we filled out and notarized at the beginning of all this to determine what would happen to the embryos if we died, one of us died, we got divorced, etc. We pay for storage every year for our cryofrozen Han Solo babies. I imagine that their little tubes are surrounded with state of the art security, walls adorned with masterful works of art, and air filled with the music of brilliance at a temperature of lovely chilly cold to keep them safe.

WAIT! You Could Have Twins?
Yes. They will be transferring two embryos. There is a possibility that both embryos will implant and develop into two living, breathing babies. Since they are 'B' grade embryos, chances are less than if they were 'A' grade embryos.

Are we ready for twins? Is anybody ready to parent twins? I don't know. Whatever the outcome is, if we are blessed with one baby or two babies from this, we will be thrilled-- absolutely, positively most excitedly thrilled.

Grading Embryos: See here and here

More on FET

Fertility Quest: Crying Over Ear Infections

So, Erik and Everett visited the pediatrician this afternoon. Evidently, the medicine that the doctor prescribed for his previous 2 pink eye infections was a bit too light for our heavy weight. So, even though the infection was held at bay, we have new medicine for his pink eye.

And, he has two ear infections. When Erik told me this over the phone, I busted into tears. Sobbing, I said,"I had no idea he was that sick." And, even though Erik gave several reasonable arguments as to why Everett is okay, I am still crying about it. Oh, and the doctor noted that Everett is wheezing a bit. I need one of those stethoscopes so that I can tell just as well as the doctor when Everett is wheezing. But, the antibiotic should take care of that, too.

The crying is that "out of body crying" where I know that Everett will be fine and I don't need to cry over it, but I am crying just the same because I am pumped full of hormones.

And I feel sick. I want my mommy and daddy. Mommy's hands were always cool on my forehead when I was sick, and Daddy always knew how to crack a joke when I was feeling bad.--like the time when we both had the throwing up flu and were sitting on our "sick beds" in the living room . . . and a commercial for peanut butter came on and we both wanted to hurl. Dad is so funny. I don't remember what he said, but I remember laughing and forgetting that I was sick.

Don't worry. Erik is taking great care of all of us. He even brought me roses and York peppermint patties. He has picked up Everett's prescriptions and decided to go to Potbelly's for sandwiches.

Did I mention we were supposed to go to Eastern Market on this bright sunny day? And then putter in the yard enjoying the hundreds of daffodils that have bloomed?

Update on the FET (frozen embryo transfer): My exam yesterday showed a uterus with a thick lining (which is great), but my estrogen level was low (not great and how can it be low with all this crying). But, because the lining looks good, the doctor decided to go ahead with the process. My transfer is on Tuesday. Then bedrest for 24 hours. Then at least two weeks of waiting until the blood draw to check and see if my cryofrozen-Han-Solo babies stuck to that nice lining in the uterus.

Fertility Quest: Flu

I'M SICK AND I'M ANGRY ABOUT THAT. LIKE 102 TEMPERATURE SICK. LIKE I NEEDED THIS JUST DAYS BEFORE THE TRANSFER. I CAN'T TAKE ANYTHING BUT TYLENOL.

THIS IS AT THE TOP OF MY LIST OF "ASK GOD ABOUT TIMING" WHEN I GET TO SEE HIM.

ERIK, WHO IS WORN OUT FROM WORKING UNTIL 3 AM EVERY MORNING, HAS TO DO EVERYTHING. SO, THE FATIGUE MAKES IT HARD FOR USUALLY CHEERFUL ERIK.

EVERETT'S PINK EYE HAS COME BACK. ERIK IS TAKING HIM TO THE PEDIATRICIAN TODAY. I APPRECIATE THAT MY PEDIATRICIAN HAS SATURDAY HOURS.

I'LL POST LATER WHEN I AM MORE COHERENT AND NOT SO CRANKY.

Fertility Quest: I Need Some Tea

As I was laying with the heating pad on my butt after my injection cocktail tonight, I mumbled weakly, "I need some tea."

A few minutes later I stagger into the kitchen scratching the injection site (I am so glamorous) . . . and I find Erik trying to make my tea. Of course I bought the wrong kind of tea; so my tea ended up being hot chocolate. But, hello, who complains about hot chocolate.

I love that man.

BTW, he brought home a Twix for me. All for me.

Fertility Quest: The Blah

(I am not writing this to complain. I am trying to capture a moment in time. It is just that this moment is not high on helium. I am fine. Well, relatively speaking, I am just fine.)

Raising a toddler and going through invitro this time around means "blah, feel yuck, blah all day" and then no sleep at night. Milestones and teething are keeping Everett up.

My body has convinced myself that I am pregnant already because that is exactly what I my life was like when I was pregnant with Everett. Blah all day, no sleep at night. I am snacking all day to cut the nausea and find myself sliding into habits I had when I was pregnant with Everett. I am sure the hormones are contributing to all this.

I had to catch myself at a women's group tonight . . . I almost said, "Yeah, it's time to cut my hair, but I am going to let it grow long in this pregnancy like in my other pregnancy." And, Sheila, what pregnancy are you referring to when you say "this pregnancy"?

Thank you, Erik, for busting out of work (foregoing a fancy work dinner) to watch Everett so that I could go eat dessert with a bunch of ladies.

And, today I decided that a lot of things in life are hard, but eating dessert is easy. Mind you, we can all think of how to make eating dessert hard, but why? Why?

I have to go now. It is time for my cocktail.

Timeline Update: Another check-up tomorrow and if all goes well at this one I start my progesterone injections, aka "constipation causers." I can't wait. Actually, if I could skip one thing or substitute one thing . . . it would be skipping or replacing the constipation. Throwing up is preferable to hemorrhoids (cause I know you want to know that information).

From http://blog.kimvallee.com/

What Post-It?

Neurological Update

All of the tests came back normal, which is great. Everett continues to have the full body tics or twitches or mini-seizes when he has or has about to have a fever.

With the explosion in development that Everett has experienced and a noted lack of "tone" in his examination, the doctor is encouraged that things should continue to get better. He is feeling more certain that any neurological issue that is there is not serious. (We have a prescription in case of another seizure.)

The neurologist encouraged me with the fact that the full body tics or twitches or mini-seizes aren't clustered or very close together. He was delighted with Everett's motor skill and language development progress. And, even though I don't have answers, I do feel reassured. (Which is odd since during his last fever I was ready to climb the walls lining up doctors to examine Everett.)

And so, we are grateful for our good health and the exceptional access to health care in this area. Even though I am earnestly trying to move back to Texas, I do know that we have been humongously blessed to have lived here . . . and continue to live here.

Trash, Spitting, and Saying Bye-Bye to the Toilet

Today, Erik came home from work to watch Everett while I had a conference call.

Long Poop Bomb

He took over Evy care AND saw a new dirty diaper just as the trashman was leaving our townhouse cluster. Weighted with Everett, he was determined to get out as many diapers as possible and quickly went into action.

With Everett in arm, he grabbed the diaper, ran out the door to the middle of the road, and chunked the diaper 50 feet through the air . . . only to land right in the middle of the GARBAGE TRUCK opening. How many people do that? The trashman gave Erik a thumbs up, and Everett stared in amazement at witnessing his first "long poop bomb."

Spitting

Erik is in charge of bathtime, usually, which often includes brushing teeth. When we first started brushing Everett's teeth, we would jokingly say to Everett,"Go ahead and spit," when the brushing was over.

Erik decided to take this skill development on as a personal mission. Whenever Everett brushed his teeth, Erik would provide a thorough demonstration of spitting into the sink . . . and Everett would laugh hysterically, repeatedly. (you know how toddler humor is)

Last week, Erik's hard work paid off when Everett spit into the sink. I heard Erik excitedly exclaim, "Good Boy!" all the way into the kitchen.

Saying Bye-Bye to the Toilet

Recently, I thought I heard Erik say while in the bathroom, "Bye-bye, Pee-pee." I kind of wondered at it, but this is Erik we are talking about here. So, I didn't think twice . . . that is until yesterday. I went to the bathroom, accompanied by Everett (of course), as soon as I was finished and flushed the toilet, he said,"bye-bye," opening and closing his cute little hands in a wave, to the contents as they swirled away.

So, I verified later with Erik. And, yes, he had taught Everett to say, "bye-bye" to the toilet, or, rather to the contents of the toilet as they are carried away by the water. And, as a side note, Erik's instruction was to close the lid of the toilet after you wave goodbye. (so he won't put his hand the the water . . . not early training on keeping the toilet seat down)

Death Duck Exposed

Face it. We are pretty occupied with safety and security in this day and age. Security systems on our homes and our vehicles. Safety gates and monitors for our sweet babies. Paper shredders for documents with personal information. Only using glass to reheat food in the microwave to protect our health.

But, what do you do to make sure that Death Duck doesn't creep through your door innocently looking like . . . dun-dun-DUNN, an naive rubber ducky? Huh?--Speak up! That is what I thought.

Tonight while Everett was sweetly practicing his "Monk washing hands and face" routines during bath time, I noticed something a bit sinister about his sweet "little" yellow rubber ducky. It looked a bit off color.

I compared it to the momma rubber ducky . . . and it still looked off color.

Notice the suspicious spots around the beak. That is what tipped me off in the first place.

The bottom looked pretty gross, too.

It was time to get out the scissors and open up this birdie.

AHA! Just what I thought.

Death Duck is Dead. And don't think that I will spare Fatal Frog if I find him, too.

Is Rubber Ducky Squeaky Clean?

Fertility Quest: The Letter "H"

First off, go visit the r house . . . she sums up a fireside that she attended recently. Her notes include some of the most insightful comments I have ever heard a member of our church make around the topic of infertility.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fertility . . . can be very humiliating. From the tests to find out why you can't have kids to talking about it with others.

Most recently I have found peace in approaching infertility with humility and humor.

Humility because not every one has physical absences to show what they struggle with on a daily basis. The mere omission of children from our family was, for a long time, cause for comments from others. Now, it is the "when are you going to get a brother for that kid of yours?"

Not long ago, I would have liked to hit the person back when comments were made like that. Now, I have healed to a point where it doesn't bother me as much. It still bothers me to a certain point because I have little control over getting a brother or sister for Everett. But, I am learning to have hope. And that surprises me.

But, I am talking about humility first.

Humility to listen to others who care about me and hear that they care about me rather than only hear the un-understanding that they carry.

Humility to listen to those around me that help me--doctors, social workers, ecclesiastical leaders, and my husband. Infertility is VERY alienating.

Humility to know that Heavenly Father will help. He will. I do know this to be true. And, yes, it may seem that I can say that because I am sitting pretty with my own baby, Everett. Everett sleeping in the next room as a physical reminder that He helps. But, getting pregnant is one help. Healing hurts is another help. Knowing that He understands when no one else does is a help. Finding the necessary resources to have the chance to have Everett is a help. He has helped me with all of those things just as He helps those around me in similar and dissimilar ways.

Humility to know that letting go of the hurt and the anger will not leave me less armoured against the pain.

And, with humility, I need humor.

Humor.

Anyone who knows me knows my laugh. It is loud and very noticeable. When I taught school, my colleagues would comment that they could always hear me down the hall when I laughed.

Anyone who knows me knows I love to laugh.

Humor heals. And sometimes humor is hard.

I don't have a magical equation or potion for humor, sorry. When I am at the worst, it is usually at the doctor's office, and I turn all the "usual" doctor resources into farm animals. You know, blowing up the latex glove and making a chicken . . . reminiscent of making a turkey out of your hand for Thanksgiving.

And, sometimes, humor around this topic is irreverent and uncomfortable for others.

For a long time, when someone would ask us why we don't have kids and wouldn't let up, Erik would say, "It is cause I have bad aim." Later, his comment evolved to,"It is cause I am shooting blanks." And, I would usually chuckle and the other person would either 1)LAUGH or 2)shut-up. Either way, I was fine with it.

But, I am better with humor when I recognize that this one stressful moment is just that, a moment. I am better with humor when I don't take myself seriously. I am better with humor when I acknowledge the humiliating nature of infertility problems and decide to find ways to laugh more when going through them.

Like how crazy I get when I am on hormones. When I was on hormones for the 2006 IVF, the following made me cry:

• The song "The Dance" by Garth Brooks.
• The song "Red Wine" as in "red, red, wine." I would hysterically sob when I heard this one.
• The 2 second clip from a promo for "The Amazing Race" where the couple sitting in a helicopter turns to one another and says, "I can't imagine doing this with anyone else but you." Cried like a baby when I saw that one.

Sometimes watching a funny movie or sitcom is what I need to add a bit of humor to my daily life. And sometimes, I need to connect with someone else who has been through this. IVF Barbie

Update on our FET process: Hormones are going as well as expected. I was pretty horrible on Saturday, but everyone survived. I am experiencing all the pregnancy symptoms that you can think of, and yes, it includes that one,too.

Something that I thought was funny--It is an IVF maternity shirt.

What a crack up!

IVF Maternity Wear

"Don't Worry; I'll Call You"

Mom Doesn't Like the Phone, But I Do

And I Work It!

Two Calls at Once? I've Got It Covered

Mom Takes Away the Phones?

No Worries, I Still Have the Technology

"Wireless Hands"

It Is a Nap Revolution

At Play: With Piggy

Everett has a piggy bank. And, he loves playing with it. I never expected this . . . he asks for it when he first wakes up from his nap and whenever we are in his room.

What I didn't realize about having a piggy bank is that there are several concepts we can work on besides just the eye hand coordination that it takes to slide coins into the pig.

• We work on "one"--put one coin in at a time, holding one coin at a time (when he gets that we can move on to the other numbers)
• We work on "first"--put that coin in first before you get another coin (when he gets that we can move on to the other ordinal numbers)
• We work on learning where not to put coins (mouth, ear, Mom's mouth)
• We work on talking about the differences in coins
• We work on "next"--NEXT, we'll put in a penny (when he gets that we can move on to other words like "before")
• We especially like to shake the pig and hear all the coins rattling around in him (the pig not Everett)
• We also like to make him (the pig) talk--"oink, oink" (Mom does the talking right now.)

I remember having, or a friend having, a "cash register" that had lots of coins that were big and made of plastic. I bet I could make something like that, say using an oatmeal container, for him to use that doesn't pose a choking hazard because this pig requires parental guidance.

Papiermache Piggy Bank

See Through Piggies

Other Simple Ideas

Toddler Etts Entire Pantry

In a suburb of DC, in a middle class fambly, a toddler takes on th' kitchen an' etts EVERYTHING!

Fry mah hide! ah's jest amazed at how much Evahett cornsooms these days. ah specked t'be ett up outta house an' home when he started hittin' his teen years. ah mean, he isn’t a small weight an' will be of substantial size when he is growin' up.

ah jest nevah'd haf guessed how much a toddler c'd eat. [An', ah mean th' healthy cornsumpshun of eatin', not th' Jeremiah Springer of “Mah 1 year old is 50 poun's on account o' ah feed mah kid bacon all th' time an' he kin’t git full” eatin'.]

ah's sho'nuff thet it has t'do wif hittin' th' walkin' milestone wif also all th' language development gwine on right now. But, REALLY! Fry mah hide! He etts a snack ev'ry 30 minutes. He etts twice as much as ah do at meals. An', t'morry is lef'-ovah night, an' we don’t haf enny lef'-ovahs!

[ah's not sad about thet. ah hate lef'-ovah night. But, we don’t haf lef'-ovahs on account o' he is eatin' tons t'keep th' calo'ic intack matchin' th' amount he is burnin'.]

Th' nice thin', though, is thet even when he is hungry, he allus be hankerin' t'share. Even though he ett ha'f of mah dinner tonight, he shared his snack wif me befo'e a-gonna bed, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Thet’s right, he needed a SNACK befo'e a-gonna bed tonight.

(Translation into Redneck courtesy of The Dialectizer.)

Toddler Eats Entire Pantry

In a suburb of DC, in a middle class family, a toddler takes on the kitchen and eats EVERYTHING!

I am just amazed at how much Everett consumes these days. I expected to be eaten out of house and home when he started hitting his teen years. I mean, he isn’t a small weight and will be of substantial size when he is growing up.

I just never would have guessed how much a toddler could eat. [And, I mean the healthy consumption of eating, not the Jerry Springer of “My 1 year old is 50 pounds because I feed my kid bacon all the time and he can’t get full” eating.]

I am sure that it has to do with hitting the walking milestone with also all the language development going on right now. But, REALLY! He eats a snack every 30 minutes. He eats twice as much as I do at meals. And, tomorrow is left-over night, and we don’t have any left-overs!

[I am not sad about that. I hate left-over night. But, we don’t have left-overs because he is eating tons to keep the caloric intake matching the amount he is burning.]

The nice thing, though, is that even when he is hungry, he always wants to share. Even though he ate half of my dinner tonight, he shared his snack with me before going to bed. That’s right, he needed a SNACK before going to bed tonight.

Parenting Dilemna #100,125

Set scene:

• Bathtime
• Erik is working late (no one to moderate my "ideas" hanging around)
• Everett needs a haircut
• I have scissors handy

And so, I followed through on my BRILLIANT idea to cut his hair while he was taking a bath. He is semicaptive in the tub, he is occupied, and he is having fun. (I didn't think that sharp scissors near slippery surfaces was a deterrent.)

And so, Everett and I go through the motions of not cutting his hair. I mean he twists and turns more times that I thought possible. But, after some time, we come to an understanding, and I get to cut the most offensively "ugly" parts of long hair.

And when I say BRILLIANT, it also means that all that hair either goes in the wastebasket beside me or down the drain. Don't get started on the "don't put trash down the drain" . . . because think of all the hair that goes down the drain just from ladies shaving their legs.

And so, as I round the task corner of getting the cut done, Everett gets a *look* on his face. And, yep, bubbles come up from the bottom area, and, yep, I then see the results of Everett's carrot and pea binge over the past week. He pooped.

I guess I could have rushed and held him over the toilet. But, it was just easier to let him take care of business in the relaxing warm water and then let him shiver while I cleaned him up.

And even though this isn't the first time he has pooped in the tub, I do think that this poop was pay back. Or, I took too long cajoling him to let me cut his hair. I am not sure what Erik will think. I am not allowed to cut *his* hair.

The Thing Mom Broke

So, somehow I broke the babygate off the hinges, one handed, under normal wear usage. I attribute my strength to the Everett weight training program.

Evy and Dad fixed the gate together. It was amazing to see how determined this 16 month old was to make sure all the parts were on before we moved on to our next task.

Fertility Quest: How Are You Peeling?

Any one of the pieces of the cocktail can cause nausea. The past couple of days have been kind of rough for me.






A couple of them even produce mock pregnancy symptoms. I don't think that I can describe the turmoil that someone goes through who is trying to get pregnant and may never get pregnant but have to live through these symptoms in order to try and get pregnant. It isn't the symptoms themselves, no sissies here, it is the fact that it sets expectations and the minor miracle hope of a pregnancy. Personally, I don't need that kind of torture. I don't want to feel pregnant until I am pregnant. Then the cards can fly and land where they want because the chunks certainly will.


BTW, the next stage of the cocktail causes me to be constipated. I am sure you are looking forward to my entry about hemorrhoids.



I am peeling pukey.

Everett Walks Kitchen Floor

Today Everett walked across the kitchen floor after lunch.

My dreams have come true. He has biped locomotion.

Erik happened to be home almost out the door when Everett started across the expanse of pergo. We were all witness.


Everett was so excited. I mean I think that he planned to do this. He would stand and start laughing so hard that he would have to bend down to catch his breath. The kid "stood-laughed-bend for support" maybe 10 times before making across the floor because he was giggling so much.


What a Crack Up! Neither of us wanted to move to interrupt. So, no pictures yet. We are working on it.

Pimp It or Donate It

1989 Honda Prelude

250,000 miles

Dead As A Doornail

Pimp It or Donate It?

If we could pimp it to go from:

to--

Then, PIMP IT!

Otherwise, we need to find some poor soul who can continue to honor and use the "blue" car with reverence . . . and prefer that the poor soul pays for the tow from the autoplace to the "blue" car's new home. We're cheap. I know.

At Play: With the Birds

Everett loves birds. When it is gross outside and we need a place to go, we go to the nearby pet store that has many, many types of birds including two huge birds that roam free in the store.

Today was beautiful finally. So, Evy and I went out to collect pinecones to make pinecone bird feeders. We have a bird bath in the back that brings in several birds everyday. I wanted to see if we could increase the bird viewing with a couple of these pinecones.

Everett loved gathering the cones. He had an excellent eye for them and found some of the best that we gathered. He enjoyed mixing the mix and was highly exuberant about playing with the seed.

In all we had a great time. We'll let you know if birds come by or if the squirrels just eat the cones. BTW, we have tons of seed left if you want to make your own.

Erik Goes Spidey and a Bit Heroic

Erik and I had a chance, thanks to a very nice couple, to spent a night in Annapolis without Everett. We wanted a chance to take a step back and relax without chasing a toddler.

If you are inclined to feel sorry for Everett for being left behind, don't. This couple is the cutest ever, and they are both the nicest, warmest, funnest people you could ever meet. Everett was in heaven and behaved himself appropriately.

At the beginning of the trip, like when we were all checked into the hotel and ready to hit the sights, Erik says,"Huh, I wonder what this is."

Yeah, that's a spider bite. sigh. Our first nonresponsibility weekend since I was put on bedrest in Fall 2006, and we get a spider bite.

Spidey Erik calls our "on call" nurses (thanks Mom and Mandy), and we decide to see how it goes (he wasn't in too much pain). I furtively look for clues of spider transformation like Herculean strength, web capabilities, and spidey sense.

We find a CVS and spend 20 minutes debating thermometers for Everett and buying more Feverall (hard to find), oh, and got an antihistamine for Spidey Erik who needed to rely on VZ Navigator to find CVS after getting directions from the lady at the hotel (CVS was just around the block). Safe to say that there was at least no directional spidey sense developing. I think we spent about an hour at CVS.

At 8:00 in the evening when it is time to start my cocktail, we look at the materials . . . and realize that I had forgotten to pack the part of the syringe that HOLDS the serum. I have extra needles for both drawing up the serum and administering the serum, I have the serum, I have alcohol swabs, I have the other pills that are part of my cocktail, I even have the sharps containter . . . my stomach and heart sink to the floor . . . Hero Spidey Erik calls the friendly CVS pharmacist.

A CVS pharmacist who doesn't know if he has what we need . . . Hero Spidey Erik doesn't take this wish-washy answer and drives to the CVS, still using VZ Navigator . . . 30 minutes later Hero Spidey Erik comes back with the right part for the syringe and Imodium for me (I was having a rough day).

Hero Spidey Erik administers the shot. And when he mutters, as he is about to poke my bum, "I think I remember how to do this," I ignore him.

WHAT a HERO! My Hero!

Update on the spider bite: His hand is not dying. It is looking better. I must note that part of my cocktail is an antibiotic. Both of us take the antibiotic. Erik thinks that it is ridiculous since he has already completed his part of developing the embryo. But, Lo And Behold, that same irritating antibiotic is helping his spider bite. Amen.

Thanks, Meg and Aaron, for helping us out.

You are the best!

Note: There were two places that we will definitely be visiting again on our next trip to Annapolis-

Brown Eyed Girl Surf Shop

Doesn't my Hero Spidey Erik look great in this picture!

Artini

Fertility Quest: First Numbers

Several people don't understand the whole bloodwork sonogram stuff and why it takes so much time and why I have to go often. So, this is to demystify the experience. Like all the other Fertility Quest posts I am speaking plainly.

For the bloodwork and sonogram, today:

5:45 Woke up to get ready. Showered and spent time on my appearance. I always feel better for these appointments if I have time to get myself together.

6:30 Out the door to drive to the Shady Grove office in Maryland, 25 miles away.

I believe that there is one office that is closer and open on Saturday/Sunday, but it is at the Maryland office that the embryo transfer will take place, and I felt like I needed to drive to the office again just to make sure I could get there without any problems and remember how long it took . . . 30 minutes without traffic.

**Note: This fertility business stuff is not relegated to regular business hours just as baby making for the general public is not. The office, staff, and appointments are dictated by the body, the timing, and the particular medical reason to seek out fertility help.

6:59 Parked and rushed to the elevator. Office is on the 4th floor.

7:00 Signed in making sure to leave two phone numbers on my sign-in sheet. (They'll call with the results in the afternoon, and it is best to have an alternate number available.) The office is eerily quiet. One other patient--I don't see any staff yet.

waited, waited, waited, read and reread all the stats on success rate of pregnancy with singleton, twins, triplets

7:15 I finally saw a staff member and found out that I needed to be on the 2nd floor. I had totally forgotten that they had any offices there, too. Made it to the 2nd floor, signed in again.

The waiting room here is full.

The waiting room at this type of office is typically not a jolly place. The atmosphere has always been rather somber. Patients are visibly nervous and stressed. You see lots of couples holding hands, patting each other on the back to soothe, and most are quiet. This is a high cost venture--high dollar, high emotional expense, high energy drain, and high time requirement.

I really do like how this practice has put effort in honoring patient privacy, that HIPPA stuff. There are glass block walls at every key place so that your privacy is protected.

7:30 The laboratory technician picked me up for my blood draw. She asked me my security information at least three times. She took my blood and was GREAT with the draw! I don't think I'll bruise too badly from this one. Hate the cotton ball and tape method.

Went to empty my bladder and returned back to the waiting room to be called for the ultrasound.

7:40 Got called for my ultrasound. Empty bladder, check. I get to derobe from the waste down and wait. The room is rather chilly this time. Thankfully, I didn't wait very long.

The doctor was the one that retrieved my eggs back in 2006. The nurse was also familiar. They were jovial and gentle.

The ultrasound went well. These ultrasounds are never the "let's squeeze some nice warm gel on your belly and then roll the wand back and forth to have a lookee" ultrasound like when you go through one to check on the baby. These are intravaginal ultrasounds. I made sure that she knew that I only have one ovary . . . or they might work that equipment and make me squirm looking for #2 ovary, all the while they are trying not to look panicked about the "missing piece" until one of them asks.

The nurse double checked that I had my medication ready if all the results were on point. I was then able to get dressed and met with a nurse in a consult room WITH ALL my clothes on to make sure I understood the next steps. This makes such a difference. I am totally used to talking about my medical stuff basically naked-feet in the stirrups, but I do find that I remember better when I am comfortably dressed.

7:50 The consult was informative. She went over my cocktail protocol and answered all of my nitpicky questions. She was so positive about this next step in the process reminding me that not very many patients end up with embryos that can be frozen. She admonished me to take care of myself, realize that this is a stressful process, and to remain positive.

7:59 I left the office ready.

8:30 Back at home. Everett and Erik both gave me hugs and kisses.

12:15 The Call: Yikes! That is a pretty early call.

The nurse was ready with the numbers . . . the hormone levels, the measurement of the lining of my uterus. She rattles them off pretty quickly. I won't write these down but I'll certainly track the next sets if she says I can get started on my cocktail . . . and I am good to GO!

She ended the phone call with a heartfelt, "Good luck!" I love it when the nurses say that to me. Helps connect the emotional side to all those numbers.

I was really surprised at how happy I was about the news--lots of dancing and singing around the house.

What happens next? I start my cocktail. I have several more ultrasounds and bloodwork visits to check the numbers and make sure that the hormone levels are acting correctly and that the lining of the uterus is developing nicely.

Fertility Quest: The Butt Shot

Saturday, 7:00 AM, I get my final sonogram and bloodwork completed.

And, no, I didn't choose THAT early on a SATURDAY. You don't get to choose when you go . . . they tell you.

If the results are a go, then the following set of instructions becomes very important. Don't want to nick a nerve.


BTW, this is not a sketch of my butt. And, anyway, we have more flair when marking the butt. Originally, the nurse marked the areas with circles on my butt with a black permanent marker. Erik remarked the spots once the circles wore off. In order to keep track of what side he has administered the shot last, he uses pictures. A few of "2006 IVF" butt drawings included: Calvin, Hobbes, House, Heart, Circle, Square, and a Flower. I can't tell you how true to life the drawings were, I didn't like to look at the bruises on my backside.

And, no, this is not the introduction of Erik as the butt artist. If he uses pictures this time, only he will be able to admire his handiwork.

Stand and DANCE

Today, Evy did it. He is standing all by himself. I also caught him walking several steps, too. But, right now, he isn't really interested in walking . . . he wants to DANCE.

No joke! He pulled out his piano this evening, pushed the button to play a song, stood up, and DANCED to the music. He wasn't interested in walking to his fave toy or book or to a dear parental unit. He wanted to DANCE, GROOVE, SHAKE HIS THANG, and TRIP THE LIGHT FANTASTIC! What a crack up!

We tried to get it on video but he was too camera shy. What he does is bounce, clap his hands, wave his hands in the air, and scream with delight while he is standing . . . and the look of pure joy just takes your breath away.

We're gonna have to change the theme for his room.

MRI

The MRI went well. The entire staff was so great with Everett. The radiologist gave him an Elmo doll and told him how excited that he was there. The nurse in the recovery room gave him a little blue dog and kept trying to reassure Everett that,"I am all done. Your mommy can have you now." Everyone gushed over him. In all respects, he would have been so spoiled if we stayed any longer I am glad it only took the morning.

There is something about Children's hospitals that puts the staff in the frame of mind to be kind at every point. They giggled about the moose that Everett has on his shoes . . . giggled, people.

The anesthesiologist and the radiologist walked me through each step of the process. They used gas to initially knock him out (--no oral stuff--YYIIPPEE--no throw-up!). It was a rough 2 minutes until he fell asleep. . . and more than once one of the staff said, "He is a strong boy," as it took me and 3 other people to restrain him and keep him safe while he struggled with the mask. I held him while he was wrapped like a burrito trying to sing his favorite song to him while the others kept the mask on and tried to keep the kicking from injuring all of us.

The scanning took about 40 minutes, and he woke up screaming. You could hear him from the radiology room all the way to the waiting room. Recovery was very, very quick. As soon as I could hold my red-cheeked little boy, and we got those cursedly painful sensor sticker circles off his chest, he was ready to pout and point out everything demanding words.

They didn't need to use an IV! They only used gas . . . which means that he won't be a mean drunk for the rest of the day.

Of course you have to fast before an MRI. I had to wait to give him food even though he was finished with the MRI (something about the anesthesia and throwing up). So, I left the hospital hoping to get home quickly only to hit DC rush hour. I felt so bad for Everett; he just wanted to be held and to eat. He kept point to his mouth, "Maa".

After trying to explain why I couldn't hold him (we were in a car driving) and why it was taking so long (this traffic drives me nuts), he amazingly settled down to wait. And then I was witness to the road rage of traffic jams. It is amazing how children are quite often more patient and weathering than adults.

I am glad that it is over. And, no throw-up!

Parenting Dilemna #100,112

Everett

MRI-With-Anesthesia

It is tomorrow at 7:00 AM.

I am nervous.

Erik isn't.

We kind of balance out that way.

But, I get to be the one that takes him.

Don't worry, I packed an extra shirt for myself this time.

Grateful

Being at home has provided me a great opportunity to feed my obsession, organizing things.

Today I tackled our whithering first aid box and medicine cabinet. Everett who is doing so well with his acid reflux right now had SEVERAL medications on the shelf that just didn't work for him. As I think back to all the things we tried, I feel sorry for the guy.

But, I was so grateful today as I was able to dump one medicine after another down the sink. I know, I know, internally I was also trying to figure out if there was some other use for the medicine. I reuse everything, almost.

But, no. Nasty medicine is just fine to let go.

For that I am grateful. I am also grateful for my new baby niece, Riley Marie.

At Play: Birthday Party

Take a look at these fabulous shots of us at a friend's birthday party. (the birthday boy is in one of the shots)

What a cute idea! But, they didn't stop there, they mailed the pictures with the pictures serving as part of the thank you card. So, cute!

Fertility Quest: Anger

In that teen classic, 10 Things I Hate About You, Patrick (recently departed Heath Ledger) describes Kat's sister Bianca as someone "without" . . . and right now I am dividing the world into those "with" and those "without" . . . Those "with" class and the skill to focus on others and those "without" any sense of decorum or thoughtfulness. And I am choosing to categorize it in that way because I am angry.

I won't go into the details because it really is unnecessary to color your world with it, but I will say it related to the fertility process and that I naively thought that in some cosmic way my sharing on this blogging empire would transition to some level of either acceptance on my part of the smelly, rank stupidity of others or that others would be less callus. And of course my word choice here is pretty severe. But, I am highly ticked . . . and hurt. I am rarely ever angry without being hurt.

Life is fair for no one. Life is hard for everyone. I think that this is common knowledge given that I am not at all prophetic or Confucius-like. And, yet, I wish we would all be nicer to one another, even if it means we have to hold our tongues and NOT say every thing that comes into our heads.

You should be proud of me. I handled the situation pretty well.

And, the anger is starting to dissipate and the remaining feeling are just of sadness. Sort of how Kat was in delivering her sonnet in class. Because even though people say thoughtless things--95% of the time they aren't trying to prove me wrong; they are trying to prove themselves right. Because even though people say thoughtless things--95% of the time they aren't trying to hurt my feelings; they are too busy feeling hurt by someone else. Because even though people say thoughtless things--95% of the time they aren't trying to fix me, they are trying to fix themselves. (And I used 95% as a general number, of course.)

And so, I do know that I can't divide the world into "with" and "without" groups because we just aren't dividable like that. All I can do is understand and move on.

So, I'll move on. And, I don't think I want or need a Fender Stratocaster guitar like Kat in the movie to do it. A nice cup of chocolate and a chance to be just Sheila, just me-myself-and-I, sans any expectations, for a few minutes will do the trick. And, maybe I'll go watch that movie or take a nap, too.

Fertility Quest: Being Supportive

I just received an email from a great lady who asked, "Wonder if you could share what folks can say to let you know that they're thinking about the two of you during these next few weeks of IVF..."

First, I totally applaud that she asks . . . that is one of the best things a friend can do. If you are unsure in any situation in a friendship, just ask. Don't be so timid that you are totally muzzled with fear that you will say the wrong thing.

What to say when you want share your concern and be supportive:

Simply state that you are thinking about the couple. Do it through an email, phone call, or note in the mail.

Share any kind of message from the heart such as:

• You are in our prayers (or however you feel this is best said, remember it should come from the heart)
• We care about you.
• Hang in there.
• Good luck!
• We love you.

Share something positive. If you inclined to say more, share something from your life or something funny. It is nice to be reminded that there is life outside of fertility struggles.

Offer up a daily life support if you feel really impressed to take on additional action. This can range from offering to bring a meal, offer that you can give rides/run an errand, offer childcare (if appropriate), or some other creative way to decrease the daily life stress that we all deal with but can become crippling when you add on the stress of a fertility procedure.

BTW, Thanks for asking.

I have been more candid on these posts than I ever thought I would have the strength to be. Talking about infertility is awkward at best. I appreciate how lovingly my words have been received.

Fertility Quest: The Cost

Recently, I've had several conversations with women about the costs of infertility, particularly the financial burden.

I won't go into a long version of it here, but I usually sum it up in three ways:

• Private insurance, typically through an employer
• Foundation support through scholarships or loans
• State legislation. May States require some measure of support for covering fertility options. Massachusetts seems to have one of the strongest pieces of legislation.

The following links do a much better job of explaining all of this.

RESOLVE: Take Action

RESOLVE: Infertility Coverage in Your State

RESOLVE: Legislation for Funding

RESOLVE: Coverage at Work

Chills and Thrills

Sheila: My Thrill for the week was being able to visit with Raegen, a friend from the graduate school era. Also, my sister is in labor RIGHT now. I'm going to be an auntie again.

Everett: I am mooving and grooving and talking and, well, that seems to be enough. On Friday, I told Dad that "I love you." Mom and Dad got so excited! This Friday is my MRI . . . Mom is a bit nervous because they'll have to put me under for it. BTW, it has been 13 days since I have thrown up . . . maybe that sensitive gag reflex is getting better. Mom certainly hopes so.

Erik: My Chill is that it seems that no one is hiring. That combined with the fact that our car is dead, RIP Little Prelude. How about a new job that comes with a company car? I'm not sure about my Thrill.

Big Day for Evy

I just wanted to share what a big day Everett had today.

• He climbed up the ladder to the slide (small slide, people) at playgroup all by himself for the first time.
• We talked about having "cheese" for lunch on the way home from playgroup.
• He climbed on and off the push bike we have at home for the first time.
• He requested at dinner, "banana?" I love that he was able to ask for something he wanted.
• He was so helpful in cleaning up the house. He picked up blocks, helped me empty the dryer, picked up several things that I had dropped (I didn't even realize that I had dropped them.)
• He pointed out the dishwashing soap after I loaded the dishwasher this evening. I had no idea that he had made the connection. I then showed him how to turn on the dishwasher. He was so proud, but I realized that might not have been my best idea of the day.
• He was very gentle with me today. (We've been working on teaching Everett to be gentle with people. He is very gentle with the cat. I don't think he realizes how strong he is. Yesterday I introduced puppets Fred and Sam to help with the "gentle" concept, and I think it helped.)
• He read several books to me today.
• He made sure that I saw when the phone was ringing. (I didn't even hear it.) He gets very concerned when the phone rings. "Da?"

At the end of the day, after we said our night prayer, I let Everett know how proud I was of all the things he had accomplished today. We had a really long "talk." He had such a big grin on his face and asked for kisses. He is a sweet boy.

I am a lucky and blessed mom.

Introducing Sam and Fred

Fertility Quest: Nervous Nellie

I am starting to exhibit some Nervous Nellie behavior about this process . . . and I mean the process of sharing all of this with you. I'm not nervous about the FET (frozen embryo transfer), oddly.

I am getting a bit nervous because I don't know how emotional I'll get on the hormones. I mean, I know I'll get super emotional, I just don't know how extreme that will be. I don't know what I'll feel like sharing while I am all hormone-al (I am nervous I'll share WAY too much for your comfort). I am nervous about how I'll handle all this sharing if it doesn't go the way we want it to . . . that the procedure might not work, that I might not be able to help you understand, or that I might not be able help you better know what to say in THAT situation.

So, let's go over it.

Let's go deep into "the worst that could happen."

The worst that could happen is that none of my four cryofrozen embryos thaw successfully. That would be sad. But, we would know the day of the transfer. (no agony of waiting) We will have to decide if I want to go through the full blown IVF stuff, again. And the best thing that family and friends can do is say that,"That really sucks and I love you."

The next "worst thing that could happen" is that the transfer goes well, I wait the agonizing time period, I get to the first pregnancy test, and it is a negative. And the best thing that family and friends can do is say that,"That really sucks and I love you."

The next, next "worst thing that could happen" is I go through the series of pregnancy tests (I'll explain why in a minute), and though the first is a GO, the second is a NO. And the best thing that family and friends can do is say that,"That really sucks and I love you."

The next, next, next "worst thing that could happen" is I go through the series of pregnancy tests; and though the tests are YES, I get to the end of this process, something happens, and the embryo doesn't make it. In essence, there is a miscarriage. And the best thing that family and friends can do is say that, "I'm sad. That really sucks and I love you."

I guess that covers it. Really, the best, most supportive thing you can say is: "That really sucks and I love you." It may sound too simple, but anything else becomes a debate.

For Example:
One could decide to say "Better luck next time." At which I would most likely use a profane word [gasp, I know] and rant about the lack of "next times" for someone who is infertile. So, please don't say that.

And, if one decides to say, "It just wasn't meant to be." Well, I think it would take me a long time to decide to talk to that person again because that is a mean thing to say.

And, don't gush with pity. Gushing is uncomfortable. A nice quiet hug is preferable to gushing.

Why multiple pregnancy tests? You may think, "Does the doctor need to do it a couple of times because he just isn't sure?" And the short answer to this is, "yes." The doctor and staff monitor the pregnancy hormone level to make sure that it is increasing at the rate that is necessary for a viable pregnancy.

The following link provides some choices to learn more information: http://www.ivfconnections.com/links.htm

And, despite the Nervous Nellieness, I am "for sure" glad that we decided to share this with you. Though, I did write this an hour ago and am still agonizing over word choice. I think I am just nervous about posting.

Timeline update: I start my cocktail in about a week.

Competition

I recently have come across a rash of blogging on the topic of, "Who has it harder? Stay at home mom or working dad?"

Why the competition? The work is different, the compensation is different, the stresses are different, the time requirements can be different or fluctuate given the day, and all of our personalities are different.

And, BTW, I haven't seen ONE blog that poses it like this: Which is harder--staying at home with the kids or being the one that works full-time outside the home?

And, THERE, I acknowledge what many are afraid to: There are MOMS that work outside the home and DADS that stay at home with the kids.

Don't get started on who should really do what or who has it better than the other. I don't know anyone that doesn't struggle with the role(s) they fulfill in the work that they do whether they hate the work or love the work.

I'd rather talk about PLAY! Because we never do enough of it.