This ride is making me a little sick to my stomach...

My donor triggers tonight.

 

I don't mean to be a wimp, but I sort of feel like I might throw up.

This is it.  Her retrieval is on Monday.  Rocco goes in to drop off his business around 930 CDT.  Her retrieval may be complete by this time.  Whoa.  That means we will know how many eggs she produced from that luscious set of fertile ovaries.

She has been hovering right around 30 follicles the last few days.  Today is her stim day 9.  Typically women trigger on day 10.  I don't worry she triggering day 9.... right?

Thirty follicles doesn't promise us 30 eggs.  I know we have a couple hurdles to clear - not all follicles have eggs, not all eggs retrieved are mature.

Then we have the fertilization freak show.  I sit on pins and needles for 3-5 days while we see how things progress.  

Where is that bucket for me to throw up into?  Dammit, Rocco, get me a bucket!

Full of peace, full of peace, full of peace.... holycrapthisisit..... FULL OF PEACE!!!!!

One of these things is not like the other

Giddy.  Scared.  Excited.

I like my job about as much as I like a stick in my eye and yesterday one of the fellas said, "Roccie, why you always walking around here with such a big smile on your face?"

I think everything is going down next week.  Whoa.

Donor eggs.  Why isn't everyone talking about them?  I could talk about them all day long.  The gal at Whole Foods asked me how my day was going.  I must have given a resounding GREAT because she asked me why it was so great.

Hm.  You really wanna know?  So I told her, "Mydayisawesomemydonorjustgotapprovedandithinksheisrockandroll."

I could have knocked her over with a feather.  She was quiet for a moment as she digested it.  She beamed back at me and I saw the reflection of my joy.  More rock and roll.

I am just so freaking happy.

My donor's stims cost me about $1500.  Mine?  About $4000, maybe more.

My day 5 ultrasound?  I had seven follicles.  My donor?  Thirty.

What.

Things that get you into trouble when Momma is on Lupron

• Fail to load the dishwasher properly.  Everyone knows that large mixing bowls on the bottom will prevent proper cleaning of the top rack.
  
• Attempt to feed me a chicken pot pie for dinner.  Again.
  
• Host a membership drive for NPR.
  
• Add another anniversary to remember my losses on October 15.
  
• Crash an application and cause me to lose my work.  Shitballs, why didn’t I save it more often.
  
• Experience a bad hair day.
  
• Lure me into car driver vs. bicyclist screamfest on the street.  I can’t act like I don’t hear your argument and not get involved.  I just wish I hadn’t used that language with Toddlerina in the backseat.  And in my own suburb.

I am in the stage where I cannot get riled up right now.  This is most difficult for me.  A lot of you are in this place too, so how do we do it?

I learned a simple trick from my wonderful acupuncturist how to counter moments like these.  The opposite of this negative energy is laughter.  Release it with a good laugh – at yourself or at the Universe for such a lame attempt to thwart you.  Think, “Really?  You thought this would bother me?  Puh-lease.”

She also told me to shift into receiving mode.  Look for ways that folks give to you – even your dogs.  “I receive this opportunity to bond with you while I clean the mud from your mitts.” 

If someone opens the door for me, I give them a thank you that probably almost sounds like a come on.

My donor starts her stims today.  If she is in receiving mode she would know I think about her constantly and send her all my very best.   

I completed the medication order a couple days ago.  The agent from the pharmacy was getting off the phone with me and planned to call my donor next.  The agent asked the routine question, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes.  There is.  Please be kind to my donor.  Leave her in a better mood than you found her. “

She laughed but I think she probably did it.

Hello, Lupron. I see you are still an asshole.

Whoa.  I sure could use a nap.  I forgot how Lupron sucks the energy right out of your bones.  My alarm goes off in the morning.  The dogs jump up and think we are going for a walk.  Think again, my hairy babies.  You better lay back down before I bite your head off.

Lupron, you haven't changed a bit.

I had some great sessions with my acupuncturist.  I wish I could get a spy cam in there to log everything that comes out of her mouth.  It would fail to capture her amazing energy - she gets as excited by the process as I do.

I told her how quickly things had fallen into place - stims start next week.  What.  

Leave the creativity to my acupuncturist.  She looks at me and says with dramatic flair, "Wow.  That baby is really pushing down to get here."

And I understood exactly what she meant. 

She has me applying oils.  I smell of patchouli and feel like I should have the munchies.  Some oils are for hormones and some are for blood.  They are applied on different body parts.  Some are nourishing and some are invigorating.  They are applied at different stages of my period.  It has rules and I enjoy the structure.

There is something about the ceremony of application, the ritual.  It is quiet and calm in the morning.  The scents fill the room.  I turn my thoughts towards the infant on the way to our family.  I blissfully skip over all the milestones I must achieve to welcome this baby.

Stay fertile, my friends.

I'd like to announce my candidacy for Motherhood in 2011

I called a press conference and no one came, so here is how it would have gone down if anyone had really cared to hear it....

AP: Roccie.  You announced you are back in the running for Motherhood in 2011.  Isn't this a misnomer?

Roccie: Yes, in some ways it is.  I am actually running for another term of Motherhood.  I have a daughter that lives with me.  I also have a daughter who died in my 24th week of pregnancy that I would rather not discuss.

AP: Exactly.  Hey, Roccie.  What is with all the anger in your last post?  Help us to reconcile your message of hope posted only minutes before a fuck-laden rant about something that happened long ago... 

Roccie: (interrupts) I will reduce my swear words in the new year as part of my campaign.

AP:  Why are you coming out now about a pregnancy loss that was well before our time? 

Roccie:  I blame the hope addict in me.  I published a post about hope and it felt saccharine sweet to me.  Anyone who knows me in real life would never call me "sweet".  I wanted to tell the people Hope isn't a pile of bullshit on the shelf at Hallmark.  I wanted to tell them I have seen the bottom and I didn't care if I crawled my way out or not.  Anyone who has ever posted something about feeling down has felt the wrath of my 4 page comment.

AP:  But Roccie, I was just having a bad hair day in that post and you took it all heavy and shit...

Roccie: (interrupts)  There are a couple hot buttons for me - hope and pain.  They cannot be separated.  I just wish I was a good writer.  I wish I could pull out of my head all of the encouragement I have for everyone.

I am the Real Deal.  I was living a shit show and I occasionally still struggle with it.  My hope is that you might read what happened to me, see where I am now, and make a plan to build hope for yourself too.

It is an ugly story, but sadly I know someone else will find herself in the same place.  This story isn't for me anymore.  In fact, I probably wont tell it here, but at Band Back Together where it can be searched and found.

I was not sure I wanted to tell you at all.  The post about the ultrasound sat in draft since spring of this year.  I read a post from Adele and it talked about my sticker.  Word for word what I had written.  It was a sign.  I wanted to comment about it, but I could not.  I was still in the closet about my loss.  My actual comment is wan and thin; digging for humor because it ripped a scab right off my heart.

I don't want to dwell on it.  This loss doesn't define me, but it did for a very long time.

I thought you should know I lost a pregnancy in my 23rd week and 6th day.

I will keep the Dark Ages below the surface.  That is where it always is, just under every conscious moment of every single day.

You want hope?

Guess who starts Lupron this weekend?

This Old Momma.

Painful memories. Believe in hope.

During an ultrasound, I asked the doctor how the baby's feet looked.  They were not showing up to my untrained eye on the screen. 

She looked at me and coolly said, "Are you afraid your baby doesn't have feet?"  

(Long pause.)  

"Someone has been on the internet too much," she said.

No, you rotten fucking bitch.  I wanted to know if the feet were rocker bottom.  Club feet.  Like my first daughter.  Who was still born.

If you cannot remember who I am, then put a mother fucking sticker on my chart to remember that my first baby died.

Instead, I just looked away and cried.

The return of the Hope Addict

I have been on the wagon for about a month now.  

I manage my hope.  I sip from it only on occasion.  Gone are the two day benders where I gorge myself on hope.

My friend Pumpkin is an enabler.  Pumpkin nominated me for an award about hope.  I think it is the best encouragement we could all get.  

Look where all that bullshit hope got me - this side of happy.  Dammit, it feels so good to be happy after a long fucking ride of misery.  Stories I haven't even told.

Honestly, the first time I was nominated for something, I thought the person might be making fun of me.  I went by her house and thanked her for the attention.  I had another one of my shit shows going when she gave it to me.  I needed it.

We blog for ourselves and for anyone who can be bothered to read it.

This hope award is about encouragement.

This is how the encouragement business works: you just never know how badly someone might savor your comment.  Hell, I have a few comments memorized.  More than a few of you are a part of my history and I couldn't pick you out of a crowd of two.

Please drop by these award winning hope mongers and tell them they are not alone:

1. Melanie at Falling in Hope
   
   This post does it for me.
   
   (Holy shit, I didn't remember this was the name of her blog.  Nice one.)
   
   
2. Andi at minimenow
   
   Please drop Andi some encouragement and invite her to come back to posting soon.
   
   
3. The Unknown Reader.
   
   Are you a reader on a blog where you don't comment?  I can't add your link.
   
   This is just a place holder where I wanted to put your blog.  It took me less than 2 minutes to create it.  Go ahead,  create your own.
   
   If you are up for it, please leave your comment here or some other blog where you feel more at home.  Anonymous, this means you too.
   
   My guess is that your hope will explode with a little more exchange.

Thank you Pumpkin.  I hope you are well.  Bonne nuit.