Prepare for the worst

What do cramming 7 drunks and 1 DD into a Chevy Blazer, jello shots, penis cakes, sore ass feet, and Pin the Macho on the Man have in common? I know, you could have guessed after the first clue. The festivus de Bachelorette!

I must say the bachelorette parties have thinned out in the last year. Mostly due to the fact that the majority (if not all) of my friends are married by now. This one was for my cousin, which was how I knew it was going to be a raving good time. My other cousins (one from out of state) also came, which made the trouble factor rise significantly. But it was so much fun to catch up, and party with them.

Chaz, our Pin the Macho on the Man sleazebag whore, was great fun. We hid his bizarrely decorated penises all around my house for my husband to find. It was great when I hear him shout from our room yesterday:

“Why is there a zebra print penis in my sock drawer?”

Me: “Huh, wah? Can’t hear you…”

It will be excellent this winter when he finds one in the fireplace.

The party was perfect in theory. Girls night out! What could go wrong?! But after an hour my incisions were throbbing and I thought my guts might fall out at any minute. I thought to myself: “Self, what the hell is your 27 year old going through IF treatments ass doing out here?” I sat on a bar stool for 15 minutes and rallied to finish out the night.

Despite my moment of weakness, it was a good night filled with bachelorette debauchery fun. Chaz, love you. Miss you. Hope you’re not getting salmonella on the bottom of my trash can.


In other wildly exciting news, my hcg injection is scheduled for the 20th at 9am. And we found out our insurance company is going to cover it.

Me: “What you’re going to cover a treatment for something that is medically wrong with me?”

I almost fell down the stairs ass over tea kettle when they told me. My motto with them is: Prepare for the worst. I think if I said, “Wait, let me get this straight…” one more time they would have shaken the Magic 8 ball again on me and changed their minds. So I let it go.

Internets: any advice on how to get my dh to produce his jizz sample would be hugely appreciated. I brought home a 1 pager of directions filled with "masterbation," "ejaculation," etc. They know how to turn a dude on, right? I offered to give a "hand" but how do I know when the time is right? The sample has to be provided between 8am and 3pm.

Me (from work): "Hey honey, how about we run home for lunch for a quick hand job?"

Him: "... ... ...."

Not so much.

Step right up please and get your tickets!

Omg, LPD, OPP, TGIF, HCG! WTF?! I wonder if I could write a post made up entirely of acronyms. I looove the acronyms. I hope acronyms take over the entire English language.
Moving on, as acronyms have nothing to do with anything at all, I just wanted to interrupt your regularly scheduled program to profess my love for dat crap.

I saw dr. ‘wonderful, everything is a piece of cake’ yesterday. She has always been this way; through my ep, both surgeries, getting pg in general, almost to the point of getting on my nerves. Everything seems so simple in her book. Maybe it is I who complicates everything? I’m not really going to ponder that, since I’ve stopped seeing my crazy dr., who knows what might send me hurling over the edge these days.

Moving on, again. ADHD, there’s an acronym for you. … After another ridiculously long wait in the waiting room (were talking 45 minutes here) I got in for my 15 minutes of fame. It was scheduled to be my annual, but I morphed it into another IF session. Listen, I’ll milk the woman for whatever I can after 45 minutes in the waiting room, mkay?

I told her how after last months sonogram & estrodial tests I never got a positive OPK (which I acknowledge in hindsight). And how I spent a retarded fortune on the Cadillac and it has said I’ve been on “high” fertility for the last 11 days (shocked? Mmm, me too). Through this new round of blessed information she was able to whittle the IF culprits down to 1! Now we know with complete certainty where the problem lies. OMG, GTFO! I know, it’s so exciting!

I prepare the follicle normally, estrodial rises normally… but… then… nothing. I’m not producing the LH surge to trigger ov. She has thought that I do not ov all along, but wasn’t sure why. Well now we know. Arentyousosmart.

We’re going to bypass Clomid altogether. There’s no point wasting months of that if we know if won’t work for. I’m thankful for the saved months of frustration. (I should deposit those into my frustration savings account, they might come in handy later.)

We’re going to have a sonogram on/around the 21st. If a good follicle is developing we’re going straight for the HCG injections. A few days later we will do a progesterone test, and do supplements as necessary. I must say I am a total dummy when it comes to this. And dr. piece of cake did not do the best job of explaining the steps. Like, how many injections are there? 1 per month? Does my insurance cover it? Clueless. Like Alicia Silverstone meets IF.

Ohyeah.btw.honey? you must haz your jizz tested. Did I forget to mention that? Mkay, cause you do. So.stepuptotheplate.makeithappen.

Must.stay.on.topic. I’m feeling really positive about the next steps now that we’ve finally narrowed down the problem. (which I must say explains a lot because I’ve had irregular cycles my entire life). But I am concerned about the odds of multiples (not bad though)/cost/insurance/side effects/etc. Any insights/experiences you fab internets have to share with my dirty whore blog would be very welcomed.

Hot diggity dogs

Since I have nothing to post related to my disfunctional self I thought I'd post a pic of my dogs, Benson & Roxy. Benson is in the foreground, Roxy is taking a snooze in the background.

They make me laugh literally every day.

In other news, I have an appointment with my dr. tmo. I'm thinking of giving Clomid a whirl since the Cadillac has confirmed that I have not ov'd. High fertility period for 11 days? I don't think so.

Does that blow your mind?

Someone on a message board (for ep’s trying to get pg) had some pretty bitch slap comments for me this morning that I feel the need to address in case some others feel that I am a pathetic, overanalyzing, obsessed, controlling piece of shit .

(which I am all of the above. But god, I feel the need to save face, mkay?!)

I was being my fun self (as if I could be any other kind of self) and asking the girls about what types of fertility monitors they’ve used (see post below).

We are laughing and discussing the contraptions I’ve discovered and seeing who’s tried what.

And I get a note from Mrs. Not Fun Wants to Spoil Everyone Else’s Fun (how on earth does she sign that? I’d shorten it to Mrs. NFWSEEF).

Anyways, Mrs. NFWSEEF says to stop drinking and eat right to prepare for another pregnancy. Thank GOD she has told me this because I have been drunk since 2007 eating burritos and chili dogs. Damn it, if I had only known.

Then she says you have to chill out, because it won’t happen if you try too hard. Guilty, but that is such a bull shit statement. AND what about the people that don’t try at all? What about those mother….. ? AND what about people with ACTUAL MEDICAL diagnoses contributing to their IF, what about that Mrs. Smartypants, I mean, Mrs. NFWSEEF?

She does not do OPK’s or anything of the nature because someone told her it adds too much pressure. Who is this “someone” and what the flying fuck do they know about anything? I wouldn’t trust where they think you should buy salami from, never mind take their dumb ass opinion on fertility. Cease and desist taking advice from this person. Immediately.

In summary, Mrs. NFWSEEF, thank you for bitch slapping me up one side and down the other because you clearly have so much experience and good luck with getting knocked up that I would obviously want to give a rip about your advice. And I find the suggestive nature of your comments to be really annoying.

(in reality, my note back to her said something along the lines of: You raise some very good points. I’m going to give them some strong consideration.) That’s BS, I will do no such thing. End of story. I don't think I need to elaborate anymore on this.

It ain't right. And you know who you are...

Can I have the floor for a minute (or maybe 60? You dirty wannabe therapist whore of a blog)? I am in a fit of psychosis today over the amount of products marketed to infertiles. These filthy two timing bitches know that the infertile community will buy hoards of their ridiculously overpriced products based on promises of conception. I’m sure you’ve seen them. They market everything from lubes and vitamins to microscopes and digital monitors. You can basically spend a fortune. But it’s worth it, right? I mean, if it works. That’s what we tell ourselves anyways to rationalize the expenditure.
Uhm yes Uncle Sam, I spent $10,327 last year trying to get knocked up and I cannot see why that is not a tax write off. Someone.give.me.something.to.work.with.here. Fer real.
Wait a tick… did you say microscope?! What am I a freaking scientist!? That’s right kids. For a lovely $49.99 you too can buy a fertility microscope (because you are not NEARLY obsessive enough as it is) so that you can overanalyze saliva. Believe it or not, the microscope has received excellent reviews. And this device does not require you to purchase test strips! It tests SALIVA, not blood, or urine or even delicious cervical mucus. I just threw up in my mouth with the image of sticking a microscope up into the lady business. We need to move on.
Just as I am considering spending the ridiculous $49.99 on the microscope (because let’s face it, if I get the microscope I have to dig out my pocket protector and my retainer and nobody wants that) I find something even more expensive to blow my hard earned dollars out the window on, a digital fertility monitor. This contraption is on SALE for $142.99. Non sale prices range from $185-$250. And these prices do not include the test strips which will run you $45 for a 30 day supply. Bend over and grab your ankles because you are about to take it in the heiny. But this genius of modern technology detects 2 forms of ov hormones (LH & estrodial), where others only detect 1 (LH). When I find myself actually considering spending this ghastly amount of money on my very own “Cadillac of fertility monitors” I know I have officially lost it. In an attempt for redemption I look on craigslist. Maybe I can find a used one for less? And I do!!! Oh my, it is my lucky day because I found a used contraption for $50!!! Then it strikes me that the thought of inserting MY pee stick into a device that someone else has put THEIR pee stick into is infinitely disgusting. And the vag microscope is suddenly looking more appealing. (okay okay, it’s not for the vag, but I like calling it that).
I will be proceeding myself directly to CVS after work to charge my Cadillac on my credit card, because it’s worth it, right? I mean, if it works;o)

I'm going to need an old priest and a young priest

AF got word that I hate her and want her dead, now she is trying to kill me.

Send morphine, send vicodin, send percocet!!!

Countdown to ov: 20 days.

X + Y = Z

AF + BFN = I am a dumb whore who wasted an $8 hpt to test even though I’ve started to get AF.

AF + BFN = Cookie dough for breakfast

Cookie dough for breakfast + Godiva chocolaty flower goodness = It’s going to be a 5,000 calorie day friends, and I’m going to enjoy every bite of it.