Holding pattern

Me and my acne.  Sort of seems unfair in the grand scheme of things.  My aging and egg-less body, but I have the complexion of a fertile teen who is chock full of eggs. 

I promise you a picture one of these days, unless that is too crass?  I have a couple contenders brewing on my chin as we speak.  No pride and I will do anything for a laugh, especially when it is at my expense.

Toddlerina has been sick as a goat.  She is beastly when she is this sick.  I had my follow up with Glinda the Good OB yesterday.  Packaged up my sick little beast goat and took her with me since she was banished from school with The Fever.  

This is how much I wanted to have the appt and get the low down on the placenta previa.  That sentence about packaging took all my might.  There was just no pleasing Her Majesty.

Glinda kept me waiting for one hour.  Toddlerina read every book in the basket then ate her snack.  Now what?  We left the office with no sign of the good doctor in the house.  Hrmpf.

I wasn't mad, but I did play up the weary look on my face and pinched Toddlerina so she would be a sobbing mess when we walked out.  

Just kidding, but only because she didn't need the pinch to cue her inner beast.

Pregnant wanker Fertiles

My sisters, I was blatantly rude to the douche bag who just came in my office to announce he was 10 weeks pregnant.

     "Sure happened a lot quicker than we thought."

     "This heat is killing her."

     "We will definitely find out what we are having." 

I sit here with a baby in my belly at 21 weeks and his words still sear me like a hot sword to the gut. Jealousy is such an ugly emotion.

Sending you all my best as you encounter your own personal bags of D in your life.  

It sucks and you are not alone.

"Just try to enjoy the rest of your pregnancy"

All is well.  I would be lying if I told you I slept well last night.  No nightmares, but I wound myself up by the time I was on the table.

Thanks for the champ advice, Nurse Ratched.  Anyone can TAKE the reservation, it is KEEPING the reservation that is the hard part.

We will have a follow up appointment in 6 weeks as I just might have placenta previa.  The doctor believes it will correct itself.  He told me the only risk was a requirement to have a c section, but Dr. Google is freaking me the fuck out with preterm labor.

I hope you think this picture is funny.  

I hope I am not turning into that asshat we all hate on FB by posting this.

The danger of the ziplock

You should at least struggle slightly when eating cookies.  In the morning.  I don't care if it is green tea, you are still eating cookies for breakfast.  

Or second breakfast in my case.

The ziplock allows you to take a reasonable portion out to enjoy.

The problem is when the ziplock grants easy access to top off your napkin one more time.  Correct the poor tea:cookie ratio of your first batch.






We head in tomorrow for our level II ultrasound, aka the regular 20 week u/s to you young folk.  My senior status awards insurance approval for all the high end testing that a 27 year old egg doesn't really need.  I am delighted to take advantage of it.

I always worry a little bit that the technician might slip and say something about the sex of the baby.  We don't want to know.

That is my biggest worry right now.  Accidentally finding out the sex of the baby.  What.  Who am I???

Oh, donor egg, how I love thee.

Your price is high at times, but eventually you start to give back.

Flowers from Toddlerina

We had massive storms in Chicago this morning.  It was a record for ComEd in the number of folks left without power.  We lost ours in the first 3 minutes.  

I had to cancel my work from home day without power.  I may slack when I work from home, but not having an internet connection is a dead giveaway.

I said good bye to all the fresh groceries I had put into the fridge yesterday in my new Effort to Eat Healthier.  Waste of money.  I put my dogs in kennels in the dark with a flashlight, hoping the batteries would last until power was restored.  Guilt.

I got dressed in the dark and put on clothes that did not need ironed.  I had product-free, air-dry hair that I went to sleep with wet the night before.  Ugly.  I gave a brief prayer of thanks I was not born in the 1800's.

It was a loooong and very hot day.

Toddlerina picked me some flowers when we came home from school.

Can you see how beaten they are?  Past their prime?  Hell, one of them has no petals. 

Sentimental fool that I am, I send you all my very best withered, tired, but oh so beautiful flowers.  

They made my day.

DE babies love Woody Allen

I am recently released from house arrest.  

My sister in law stayed with us for 2 weeks.  In a row.  She is great and all, but did you know that 2 weeks is 14 days?  In a row?  I have much to catch up on.

Rocco and I made it out to see a movie this weekend.  About 10 minutes into it, the Indian food we had eaten kicked in - that baby was mooooving!  It literally took all my might not to stand up and shout: 

"Do not be alarmed!  The baby is alive!  The baby is ALIVE!!  This just might work out!!" 

Boy, wouldn't that freak some people out.

....... did I just sit here and contemplate deleting everything I just typed for fear of tempting Fate?  Yeah, maybe.  Old habits die hard.

I wish we all lived closer and could meet for a milkshake.  I am a grinning fool.  Scared, sure, but man, am I happy.

ps - Whoever found my blog with the search phrase "scared to poop after an embryo transfer": can you please self identify so I can be your new best friend?

Things we just survive

I don't get it.  I don't know how it all works.  Somehow, some way, we just get through it all.

I cannot believe it has been two weeks since I had my 16 week appointment with Glinda the Good OB.  (Glinda, not Glenda - thanks Sarah.  I love my pop culture when I can get it right.)

I sat down in the chair with Glinda and promptly burst into tears.  "Oh my goodness.  What is wrong?  Are you bleeding again?  You could have called.  Are you feeling ok?"  I cried a little more and the best answer I could come up with was "I am scared."

Glinda has her own stories to share.  Stories of waking up and pulling back sheets to see a bloody mess; preterm labor; more bleeding.  She told me she set the goal of just making it to delivery, then it will all be okay.  Moral of the story:  never set that final goal line.  You know it always gets moved.

She delivered a healthy baby.  She was nursing and the baby began to have seizures.  What.  But she was there.  She arrived at her goal.  She made it to delivery.  It is the self identified safe zone.  Right? 

Her baby's seizures are now managed, no long term impact to the infant.  The only lasting scars are on the mother.  She said it was harder to recover from the seizures than the bleeding and preterm labor because she thought she was in her safe zone.

Some moral, huh?  The moral is more complex than never setting the finish line.  It makes it sound like you are never safe, but hell, you really aren't.  I feel all predestination and shit, but taking it one day at a time is the best I have right now.  Cannot change it for the better and thankfully cannot change it for the worse.

I am out about the pregnancy at work now.  It is kind of fun, especially when I see people in other departments do a cartoon double take at me.  As I told my newly pregnant friend Lut, I highly recommend sitting on your announcement for as long as possible if only for entertainment value.  

Do NOT sit on it justincasethatthingthatcanhappenhappens.  Ahem, like I did.  It doesn't help and it just might do more harm than good.

Things are great now.  Happiness is finally mine.  I feel like a million bucks and only worry late at night when flipping for the cold side of the pillow.  But it doesn't last long or at least as long as it used to.

Thank God we are so damn resilient.  Well done, Sir.