Definitions

My top 5 resolutions (yes, there are more, less appropriate for the interwebs)::
1. Start smoking. I figure I need to ramp up to 4 packs per day to catch up to family and friends.
2. Swear more. Because there's nothing like telling your boss you need an effing raise to buy more coach bags and manolo blahniks.
3. Buy more fur. Who does PITA think they are anyways?
4. Spend more. Nothing says recession like coach bags and manolo blahniks.
5. Make an effort to stop exercising. Because 10 pounds on clomid, progesterone, and trigger injections is just never enough.




In the final hours of 2009 I'm left reflecting on the year, as many of you are. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

The ugly...

Tiger woods. Nuff said.
Octomom... Need I say more?
Kanye... Douche bag.
Failing 2nd cycle of clomid. (100mg was a bust)

The bad...

By far the fullest category this year. I would sooner have a lifelong case of pink eye before reliving 2009.

The heartbreak is as fresh today as it was 10 months ago. I know many of you know the heaviness of carrying a broken heart on a daily basis. I hope that 2010 brings a way for us to be at peace on many different levels.

The good...

It's a double edged sword for me to even think about any good that may have come out of the hurt we've felt this year. I think it's a readiness thing, and I'm just not there yet.

Definitions...

When I think back on this year the loss is the only thing I can think of. It's a defining life event. My life is becoming defined with the loss and infertility. I struggle with feeling connected to the loss through my ongoing hurt and making this defining piece of my life a positive.

I'm not sure how, but my goal for 2010 is to figure out what I can do to have a positive impact on others because of my life experiences.

I'm not saying I'm going to move to a 3rd world country and start going by Mother Kansas, but I'm not going to allow negativity to define me any longer.

What defines you for 2009? What's the good, the bad, and the ugly of you year?

I'm thinking of you all tonight and the things you've been through this year. I hope you all are enjoying some r&r over the holiday weekend.


I look forward to seeing where 2010 takes us.

Birth days

Friends, the day of my birth was yesterday. Someone tell me please when the numbers start going in reverse... .... ... anyone? ...

Flo, at the DMV, kindly reminded me that the weight number never goes down either... thanks Flo. At least she's honest, right? Yes, she is an honest 65 year old woman with her tires slashed. Happy holidays Flo!

Let's be frank, getting older blows for many reasons. I know, you just blacked out from shock, right? I'll give you a minute if you need to get some paxil for the ingenuity of my most recent revelation.... Bring some back for me too...

There isn't really any stellar news to report this week. We've upped the Clomid to 100mg. 5 Follicles made, but on Day 14 they are still not ready to be triggered with an injection. WTF, right?

If I had a biography it would be titled "WTF." Because I love WTF, OMG, BFF. And, why not?

Double the clomid is double the fun. Because half the hot flashes is just never enough.

It was a whopping 18 degrees here in the northeast this morning as I was on my way in for the bazillionth vagi cam appointment this week, and having the hotflash of a lifetime. I rode all the way there with the sunroof open. No jacket. I shit you not. I can't wait to up the dose to 150mg next month.

If I can get this hotflash to last for another 4 months, this winter may not be so bad.

Clomid: Chaos, migraines & hot flashes predominate - my work here is done.

Me: whore.

This is the priceless information that would go in my book.

Holiday Cheer Hijacker

Internets, it’s a BFN. I know, shock and awe… blah blah blah How can I be filled with The Christmas Cheer and not full of The Rage? The Hysteria? How can I not be telling people off in the grocery store in fits of crazy?

How can I be decking the halls with boughs of freaking holly when my ovaries have staged a walk out?

I’ll tell you friends…

It’s called, How to Turn a Sweet Christmas Miracle, into, Selfish Scheme to Give Kansas the Warm and Fuzzies. Because let me tell you… I am not about the warm and I am not about the fuzzy.

We’ve “adopted” a child from our local foster program to buy Christmas gifts for. His name is Sean and he’s 3 years old. When I got Sean’s Christmas list all it had on it was Lego’s. Cue the tears, and not the It’s A Wonderful Life, kind. Picture Marley & Me type hysteria.

Now, before you go soft on me, remember the scheme.

This is not about a child who might otherwise give up on his belief of Santa. Or learn about the cruelty of the world at much too young of an age. It is also not about his exhilaration on Christmas morning waking up to every type of Lego product available in the US. It’s not about the smile on his face, or the hope in his heart.

Okay? So get those dirty images out of your head. This is about me. And contrary to popular opinion, being hopped up on hormones does not give me the warm or the fuzzy. Unless you mean The Warm in a hot flash kind of way, and The Fuzzy in a blistering migraine kind of way. I just want to be clear.

In case you’re still following in a Christmas Shoes kind of way let me reiterate the selfish nature of this mission.

By doing this, seemingly selfless act, I am filling myself with the warm and the fuzzy (the non hormone flavor), thus easing the blow of the most recent flurry of bad news.

So, the next time you get 5 inches of snow in the beginning of December (or a BFN for the gazillionth time in a row, but who’s counting) and you feel like rapid firing 3 dozen sugar cookies up Kris Kringle’s jolly red ass, do something selfish, get some warm and get some fuzzy.

The secret

Omg, quick somebody ask me what CD I'm on!!! ...because I have no idea! How can this be that every second of my life has not been devoted to CD's, minutes, seconds? Don't get me wrong, I still know the first day I can do an hpt.... (One week from today, ahem).... I guess it's because I have no hope, er... expectations for this month.

Note to reproductive self: like a knocked up high school drop out, you have screwed up so many times that I have ceased having any realistic expectations from you. You will not go to college and you will not marry your baby daddy.

So, there it is. The secret to mental bliss during the fight against if. Better yet, the secret to mental bliss during the 2WW. Try it out, maybe it'll work for you.

Okay, the truth is... I went in on CD11 for a follie check. There were 2 jumbo sized, ready to rock. Super.omg.getout. Much excitement over this cuz #1 the clomid worked, holy crickee. #2 it before day 20 (my "normal" ov day). #3 there were 2! Joy and joyness a Christmas miracle, double the chances!
That was a thurs, Dr. Poc said I'd ov that weekend...

That weekend came and went... No positive opk. For realz. Visualize balloon losing air.

On the Monday following I went in for blood work and did the trigger injection. This put ov to day 17. Less than stellar, but still acceptable.

Now... What day are we on? Who knows, who cares. I have a feeling it didn't work. That my hopped up on hormones self, hot flashes, and migraines were all for nothing. What's the plan for next month? I haven't the foggiest. Don't know, don't care.

Oh, and also, the onslaught of December has made me realize that I have ovulated a whopping grant total of 2 times all year.

Tell me, have you been through a Who Gives a Crap phase? And, how long can I look forward to it? Cause I am not minding the view from here.




Note: I do not think HS KU drop outs are worthless. If you are one, or are a recovering HS KU know that you are very worth-ful(?)... Example used for illustrative purposes only. Please don't send me hate mail. Kthxbye