Monday, March 31, 2008


Just saw a commercial for aciphex. (Edit: It's a drug for acid reflux.) I can't help giggling every time it comes on...who decided to name a drug something that sounds like "ass effects"? I just keep thinking "Ooo. I don't want to have any of those."
I am so juvenile.
We got a bill for A_'s surgery. Apparently they billed insurance $2000 and when insurance didn't pay any of it they sent us a bill. Which would be fine except that A) we told them insurance wouldn't cover any of it so why the hell were they bothering to bill them? B) We had to pay this portion in JANUARY in order to schedule the surgery, and C) this amount is a little less than what we paid and now I want some of my money back.
It just irks me a little that these people took all of our money, apparently more than they were charging insurance, and didn't fucking mark it down. I have the canceled check and they had called after they got it to note that they had our money.
Not a big deal, I'll call and get it straightened out, but still.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

A start

Well, my brilliant plan to be healthy again is off to an imperfect, but reasonable start.
My dear Annacyclopedia who can't eat any of G*d's best inventions, such as pecan pancakes or mashed potatoes* got me experimenting with baking her some snacks. So far, I have made nothing worth sending her, though Charlie thinks everything in the trash can is at least worth dragging out to bury in the couch pillows. I have however, discovered flax! All week I have been sprinkling flax seed about like new ttc'ers sprinkle "baby dust." It's in everything I eat.
(TMI alert: Which has perhaps made me a little too regular. Caveat emptor.)

I have also been exercising. Kelly totally made me laugh when she asked what activites I like to do when she commented on that last post. Uh. I like to sit. Sometimes I the kitchen.
I've been working out on my long-neglected eliptical thingamabob. (I got it for $5 at a garage sale. The husband said his wife didn't know he was selling it and that she would probably be mad at him. I bet he was right.) I've never done any sort of yoga, power or otherwise, but I bought five or six in-home lessons at a silent auction about a month ago, and I need to schedule the first one still.
I also got out yesterday and volunteered for my presidential candidate who is not a Republican or Ralph Nader. I walked door to door for about three hours registering voters and receiving inappropriate comments on my ass from creepy men sitting in a minivan. I then went and had beef brisket and onion rings for lunch. Although I feel bad about the food choice, I am feeling good about the registrations and my aching legs. I think I am going to volunteer to do more activities that involve me not sitting.

*If you don't already know her, read this post that is both very brilliant and very sad when you see what she can't eat.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

I feel like I read some Oprah-endorsed book

Oh you people. Talking about living life as though IF/babies weren't a concern. Giving me ideas. You have me thinking about what I have given up for infertility.

Well...not much so far. A few thousand bucks. The ability to act like a normal person around babies. (Keep in mind "normal" is a relative term. Very relative.) That's about it.

I can tell you what I have gained from IF though.
A fat ass. Double Ds. Cankles.
Actually that last one I think I have always had, even when I was skinny. My calves just sort of narrow gradually into my feet. I hate it and have hated it since the boy I was dating (who was a fucking ballet dancer - that should have been my first clue that the sex wasn't worth it. Hm. That makes him sound gay. He wasn't, just an asshole.) asked me "Can't you do something about your calves?"
Keep in mind I was a size 4 at the time. It gave me a terrible complex about my calves that I have to this day. His head would probably explode if he saw me now.
Let me show you - I don't have many picture where my ankles are showing, but I dug up this goofy senior picture from high school. This is about what I looked like until 4 years ago, although my hair changed and I usually wore not so ugly shoes. I'm not sure exactly what I was thinking with this get-up. Or this pose. Um. Or all of it really.
Edit: I zoomed in on the cankles. They are skinny here, but you'll notice, my calf goes directly into my foot. There is no dainty turning in that will catch a man's eye if he glimpses it beneath my skirts.

When we first started ttc, each month I was quite sure that I was pregnant. Every AF symptom suddenly was ascribed to my burgeoning pregnancy. Sore boobs? Pregnant. Pimple? Pregnant. Hungry? Definitely pregnant.

And I wouldn't want to deny my child the food it was demanding, now would I? So I ate. And then when AF finally got there I would be sad. So I ate. And then I felt bad about eating. So I ate. And then I found out there would be no baby without some serious measures and it would be a long time before we coudl afford them. So I ate. A lot.
It doesn't help that A_ used to be a professional pastry chef.

And now I must face the fact that I look like this:

Happy, but fat. And very white.

It hasn't really bothered me that much. I wear my weight well - it has distributed evenly so I still have a waist and everything. But the fact is, it's not healthy. And I didn't realize until I saw a picture of myself from the other night handing out an award how fat I was. I looked like I could eat the poor little guy I am congratulating. (It didn't help that he was only like 5'2.)
So here is my "IF won't stop me from living my life" thing. I am going to get in shape. I am going to stop eating sticks of butter as snacks and collapsing on the couch from the time I get home until I got to bed. I am going to be healthy. So that when it does come time, when I *do* get pregnant, I will be able to eat whatever the baby tells me to.
Cause fat and pregnant is fine by me.

EDIT: Doh. I didn't mean to sounds like I was fishing for compliments . I just wanted to show you how skinny I once was and that I have cankles. I swear to god, I do have cankles. They are just skinny cankles in that picture. Now I have fat cankles.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Oh, those silly internets

The ad on the side of my email asked "Can you get pregnant standing up?"

Well, no, no I can't. Thanks for asking.

Calling s.e.

OK, when I called out fantastic people who sweetly comment who I can't stalk back to their blogs in this post I was talking to you, s.e.! Reveal thyself! I must stalk you.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Ob la di, ob la da...

Back to having nothing to say.

Had a good weekend. Saturday night we went to a dinner party for a friend's birthday. His niece and nephew were there and the two of them were absolutely delightful. His niece who is eleven, was thrilled to be allowed to join the adults at dinner. During dessert she started telling me and another woman all about her friends and who was "dating" who. Her fifteen year old brother (who was g to the a.y.) brought out his sketch book of dresses he had designed. All in attendance decided we simply *must* adopt these children and trade them off each week until their father noted that, although the plan was fine with him, we would also have to pay for braces. Damn. We can't afford that.

I had another birthday to go to that involved watching the late show at the I.max but when I showed up, they had locked the doors. I curse myself for being so late and therefore a shitty friend, then went home and went to bed. It was awesome.

On Easter we had breakfast with my parents. I went to church, where my father once again badgered me about being a bad C*tholic and told me I needed to not take Communion. He also mentioned that A_ and I should consider having our marriage validated by the church before we have kids. Despite doing a weekend engaged retreat the church hosted (although there were non-C*tholics, A_ was the only non-christi*n. Which was comfortable for him, I'm sure.) we never finished getting our special dispensation to get married. It is obviously a big concern to my father, who no doubt thinks I'm going to hell.
Um, yeah. So as always, that was uncomfortable. We finished Easter at home with the traditional Easter falafel. Yum.

Um. That's about it. I went to a big fancy shindig tonight to present an award so I got all dressed up. I was going to have A_ take a picture so I could *finally* turn in my C**per application since I had actually combed my hair for once, but my camera died.
Big love, by the way, to Jenn who kindly offered up her house if I get picked. (Actually, several of you have a weird but endearing desire to invite some crazy infertile to stay with you...) I just wanted to say thanks to all of you for being so openhearted. Gah. I love you guys.

Saturday, March 22, 2008


We went to a pro basketball game last night because we were given free tickets. The face value was $130 a piece. Ridiculous. I would have sold them as part of my grand save-money-for-ivf scheme, but our team stinks so much right now that you can hardly give away tickets. It was ok, the team won, and there were three incredibly cute little boys sitting in front of me that I just wanted to grab up. The youngest was probably five and was missing his top front teeth.
* * *
Before we went to the game I dropped Charlie off with Betty the office dog so they could play. I think Charlie must have eaten something weird there, because last night he woke us up three times needing to go outside and poop. Normally, he sleeps through the night. Poor little guy. It reminded me of the thing I know I will dislike the most about having a baby - having to wake up. I don't wake up easily.
I had a dream sometime in between taking Charlie out at 2am and 5:30am that I was in labor and it hurt like a bitch. I was walking around in the hospital room feeling terrible. Maybe Charlie and my brain are trying to convince me that it's ok and I don't really want a baby right now.
They need to try a little harder than that.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

What's that? We're trying to have a baby? Almost forgot.

A_ went back to the urologist today. His balls appear to be healing well, though they still have a long way to go (oh, they are SO gross). They did the post-freeze thaw analysis thing and apparently those bad boys had 12% motility. So the cold didn't kill them all off or anything. We have to do ICSI anyways, so we weren't really worried, but good to know.
That's it. We're done with Dr. Dick, unless of course we need more than five IVF cycles. (Dr. Dick mentioned that, as though we have an extra fifty grand lying around. )
I found a study online in Illinois that I applied for, though it is apparently full. I still haven't turned in my shared cycle stuff since I can't even afford to get the damn hotel in NJ if I were to be picked. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Why can't I just win the lottery or something?
Maybe I should get another job. If I can get a part time job where I make $150 a week extra, it will take me...over a year to make ten grand.
(Thanks, just needed a quick crybaby why-doesnt-Io-get-everything-she-wants-when-she-wants-it outburst. I'll go back to being vaguely amusing now.)

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

The work menagerie

I'm sure I've talked about my fantastic boss before, but let me reiterate. My boss is fantastic. He's absolutely part of my chosen family. In general, everyone I work with is amazing. (Before you get too jealous - My actual *job* is not incredible, but as I have found from previous jobs, who you work with makes a shit ton of difference.) The people I work with are passionate about what they do, funny, generous, and *great* to drink with.
So my boss and I are working today and we get sidetracked watching Betty and Charlie jumping everywhere and being incredibly freaking cute. Basically, our office is a madhouse. Bossman asked if I am going to keep Charlie, since when I have a baby the office will be really full. See, he plans on having me keep working when I have a kid. He's never gotten married or had kids but he likes living vicariously through other people's dogs and kids. And he is really ready to add to the office menagerie.
I told him it would be a while.
Is it wrong to be sad I don't have a baby so my boss can be happy?*

*Obviously, bossman is not the primary motivating factor to have a baby. If that were the case this would be a lot creepier. OK, I am doing a total Kate thing here. I don't know why she wants to stop doing footnotes, because I think they are part of her coolosity.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Off the couch

I am totally late doing this meme from shinejil, but here goes...
The rules:

Step 1. Reference back to the blog that sent you.
Step 2. Make a list of 5 things you have to get done this week, no matter how small.
Step 3. Get 2 other people off their asses to get their shit in order.

1. Is it cheating to make doing this meme one of the things I needed to do?
2. The dishes. Really, I need to clean the whole house, but doing the dishes will at least be a start.
3. Give Charlie a bath. He went to my BILs this weekend and now smells like sausages and onions.
4. I need to get my butt in gear at work and put our newsletter together this week.
5. I need to do some paperwork for my mom. She is ready to retire and just can't keep up with all her paperwork so I help her. It is

I am calling on my I-BFFs Anna and Kate to get their butts in gear.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Io drinks and posts

Er, I wrote the following last night and couldn't figure out how to publish it...

St. Patrick's is not just an important day for me, it is important for all f*refighters. It's taking me long time to write this as I keep mistyping all srts of things and haver to fix them.' Hrm. I am not doing a good job.
At least this year I have stuck to beer exept for teh shot o f Jameson.
I hereby submit my evidence from the inside of the union hall that St. Ps is fanastic. This does not include the two tents outside where the beer was - this was the more sedate area. I didn't make it out to the tents until it was almost over. My friend E is holding the Charlie, who is a little scared by bagpipers, as he ought to be - one of them walked by and mentioned he was not wearing underwear.


The fantastic shinejil tagged me to do a meme about 5 things I need to do this week. So...I need to do the meme is number one. I'll do the rest later... but I am very busy drinking right now.
I feel like I have been a crappy commenter this last week. I promise that as soon as I recover from today, I will comment and write something fantastic here and post pics from today to prove Mel, as much as I like her, wrong - Purim has nothing on St. Paddy's.
Happy St. Patrick's day everyone! May you get as drunk as me, unless you're pregnant. That would be bad.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Warning: Politic-ish ahead

I am tired and have to go to a birthday dinner for a friend shortly, but I had a great day - I got up early to wait in line with my ticket in hand for 0bama. It was cold out, and we were out there for a few hours, but I was near the very beginning of the line. I got the first seat in the front row (on the end where 0bama entered) and so I got to shake his hand when he came in and when he left. He did a good job of answering questions and was very funny.

In this picture you can see Senator 0bama right after he shook my hand. He is absolutely glowing, as meeting me was no doubt the highlight of his day.

Friday, March 14, 2008

Democrat dog!

Thanks everyone for your nice comments on the last post - we had a nice dinner, though after reading my internet bff Kate's post on last suppers, I was sad not to be eating everything everyone had written about.
And to those of you who were kind about my hair - maybe you like the Annie look, but you couldn't see the entire bottle of aquanet that had been melted into each and every curl by the hairdresser who *completely* misunderstood what I had asked for. Did you know that aquanet turns into little white plastic beads if you combine it with heat? It does.

On the IF front, A_'s balls are no longer swollen, so he's on the mend. His pants don't look, uh...tight...anymore. Seriously, people. It was obscene.

I must go to bed so that I can get up early to go to the town hall meeting. I leave you with my darling Charlie, the democrat dog. (It was hard to get a good picture of him, but that is a donkey, with "2008" underneath. I hate dog clothes but I had to buy it.)

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Not a bad day at all...

1. I have a ticket to see 0bama! He's coming to Indiana on Saturday and tickets became available at noon and were gone within 30 minutes - I tried to go back to get one for A_ and they were gone. Sorry honey.
2. Speaking of my honey, we have our fourth anniversary today. Amazing. We haven't killed each other yet.
3. Speaking of our anniversary, we're going out to eat yummy yummy fancy food, courtesy of my boss and the gift card he gave me.

So yay. Now if I could just win the lottery

And in honor of my poor husband, a picture:

How he went through with the wedding after I showed up looking like Little Orphan Annie, I will never understand. But I'm glad he did.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

I knew I didn't like Ohio...

(My apologies to those of you who live in Ohio.)
I got a call back from the financial person (perhaps she heard the tone in my voice when I said I had called a couple times already.)
However, the price *difference* between doing a cycle with myself as the sole recipient vs. splitting my eggs?

That's what I would "save."
Plus some of the med costs...I could "discuss" that with the recipient she said.

If you don't count the meds being at least partially paid for by somebody else, it costs MORE to do a split cycle at that clinic as doing a cycle just for myself at a clinic here that has the same success rates. And with gas costing a million dollars a gallon, it would eat even that difference probably.


Yay for the internets

Here at work our internet is somewhat suspect. There are only 2-4 of us in the office (me all the time, the president some of the time, the VP and another guy a couple days a week) so we don't have a tech person. My boss *thinks* I am the tech person because I know how to do things like add attachments to emails. (Oooo! It's so HARD. How DOES she do it?)
Anyways, our internet goes out on a regular basis and usually I can go to the closet, unplug the router, wait thirty seconds, plug it back in and tada! The internet is back. However, lately my boss has been getting here in the morning before me and can't get on. He's been telling me to find somebody to fix it for a while and I finally called a quasi-friend I hadn't seen in a while who is a G##k Squad person. She came in, muttered stuff in a technical language I don't understand and now we have fast internet again. Hopefully she fixed it all and there will be no more problems.

It was really good to see her. She was a student of mine when I had first finished college and she's starting to really get her sh*t together. She comes from a very strict Catholic Filipino background and her parents basically disowned her for a while there, but she's got a job and is going back to school and has a boyfriend who's not an asshole. I hadn't seen her in a year or so, although I comment on her blog usually. It's so nice to talk to somebody who is more interested in discussing when we can go drinking than when I'm going to have a baby.
It is also nice to have my internet back at work. Speaking of which, I should go do some work...

Oh, and I called and left another message today. If I don't hear back from the financial person (who I was told to call first) today, then I am going to go ahead and do the second step and contact the donor coordinator. Maybe she can get the financial person to call me, eh?

Monday, March 10, 2008

Ha. Silly Io. Thinking she might actually get to *talk* to somebody at the clinic.

I got an email from one of the doctors on Saturday saying to call a certain person in their office today. I did, I left a message first things in the morning. Nobody had called back yet, so I called again.
Blah. I hate leaving messages. I feel like I am cold calling for some sales thing or something. I guess I kind of am... eggs, get your eggs here...

Saturday, March 8, 2008

The Powah of CHARLIE

(Five Kate points to Kate for the title.)

Nancy has a post about adoption that got me thinking a bit. But first, more puppy stuff. Because I just can't stand how freaking cute this little guy is. We still don't know what exactly the deal is - I haven't really had a chance to sit down and talk with his owner. I'd say it's because he's really busy, but I could have brought it up on the phone and avoided it. I have a feeling his owner changed his mind about giving him up.
I think he wants to do maybe a foster situation where we would have Charlie during the week and then he would take him on the weekends. It is now 11:32 on Saturday, I know his owner has a charity event this afternoon, and I still have him. I figure as long as I don't ask, and still have Charlie, that I can live in ignorant bliss.
He's sleeping next to me on the couch and just made a funny purr-growl noise in his sleep. My heart just melted a little. Like the snow on his nose this morning.

Then we came in to play with the lobster and try on scarves.

And as cute as the Charlie is, I must give a shoutout to my cats, Thomas and KD, who have kindly allowed me to bring this puppy into their house.

OK, yay. Back to Nancy's post about adoption.
She asks:
"If you have decided against adoption - why? Was it a mutual decision? Was it like us where one "no" trumped any "yes"? Does anyone else feel like my husband does? Are you not planning on adopting because you have children? Are you not planning on adopting to focus on living child free? Do you want to adopt but can't for any reason?"

How hard is it to explain why some of us chose to go through treatments instead of adopting? I mean, I can some up with all sorts of reasons.
Adopting can be just as or even more expensive.
You don't necessarily know what you're getting in terms of how the mother took care of herself while pregnant.
The wait for a healthy white infant can be really long.
(The list of course goes on...)

Ok, numbers one and three are not actually true in our case. Our treatment is crazy expensive and we would probably adopt a non-white infant. So what's my excuse? Just the fear of getting an FAS baby? Of having to deal with learning disabilities? It's not like having one myself would guarantee health and brilliance. But it makes the odds better.

If I had wanted to adopt, I think my husband would have been completely fine with it. But I want all the normalcy. I want to have as much control as possible. I want a chance of passing down my genes - what can I say? I like myself. It's a primal urge to carry and nurture.

But I think most of all I worry that it wouldn't be permanent enough. Since I wrote that first half, Charlie's owner came to pick him up. I think I would always worry about the first family coming back or about my child wanting to find them and choosing them. I don't worry so much about not loving my child as my child not loving me.

Well, that was depressing. And not at all organized. Oh well.

Good-ish news - I found out that there is a shared cycle program in Cincinnati. Much closer than NJ. I can drive there in an hour and half.
First thing Monday, I am going to call.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Puppy dogs

Ok, Betty is not a puppy, but she thinks she is a princess. She is spoiled rotten. This dog gets more attention than any freaking dog ever. And everyone knows her. There will probably be random people skipping across the blogosphere that will see this picture and go "Hey! I know Betty!"

Betty is our office dog. Our office is located a block away from the boss man's house and Betty *technically* belongs to one of his neighbors. She gets dropped off every day at our office because my boss likes having a dog and we are usually casual enough that it's ok. When the mayor is coming over or something, I'll just take her home for an hour, but for the most part, she's just another worker over in the office. (And by "worker", I mean she works security by sniffing crotches for drugs and weapons and forcing people to pass the "scratch my back" test.)

Boss man loves to run errands during the day and take her with. They go next door where the receptionist has treats for Betty. They go to the bank where all the tellers know Betty and she greets them all by running around wildly. They go to HQ where the secretaries pet Betty and tell her just how pretty she is.

Whenever any of us take her on a walk, there is almost ALWAYS at least one person who calls out "Hey Betty!" that the walker has never seen in his or her life. I shit you not.
Betty has a collection of collars that would put Imelda Marcos's shoes to shame. She eats organic food and gets treats from a dog bakery that cost more than human cookies. The groomer gives her all sorts of high falutin' cuts (though not the completely frou-frou cuts, thank goodness.)
She is spoiled beyond belief, though very smart and sweet.

She likes playing with Charlie, but she looks a little skeptical about having him here *all* the time.

She tries to ignore his cute little face.

But eventually she gives up. He can stay.

Yay Charlie.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Two things

1. Ok, I have the best bloggy friends ever. You people rock, seriously. Now there are a couple of you readers who have delurked *cough* *pj* *cough* but who *I can't follow back to your blog.*
PJ, I googled you and ended up with Pamela Jean who is also very cool but who is apparently not you. There are a couple of others that I am too lazy to look up right now, but if you read and comment and don't have a followable link thingymajig, please tell me where I can cyberstalk you.

2. We might be adopting...
Charlie, that is! His owner sent me an email this evening saying that he recognizes he has no time for a puppy and wants to discuss maybe having us take him! A_ and I would love, love to have him and my old argument that we don't have time (made back when I worked 13 hours a day, five days a week) is gone. I would feel terrible taking his dog though. Maybe we can work out some shared custody things or something. Or maybe we'd just foster. I need to talk to Charlie's owner and find out what he's thinking.

Oh, and because I am a liar, there are three things:
3. A_ is getting better, though he's still not 100%. He left the house to get his new suits altered today and made dinner - it was a delicious chicken picata. Yay.

Edit: TMI alert.

A_'s balls are freaking huge. He said he's starting to feel better though, so I don't think he has an infection. Any of you who have been through this want to tell me when the swelling was gone?

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Dear body

I am doing this for you, annacyclopedia...

Hey Body,
How ya' doing? It's been a while since I've spoken with you. As hard as it is to say, I wanted to tell you I'm sorry.
I'm sorry about all those months I cursed you because you had me convinced that it was going to be *the* month. All that perfectly timed, welcoming cervical mucus, leading me to believe all I needed to do was have sex. I just assumed that with all the talking you do to A_'s body, you would have mentioned that he wasn't a good at sharing.
I'm sorry about feeding you crappy food. I know that cake and pasta and diet coke aren't very good for you, but I just get so sad sometimes. I need you to be full, and so I eat and eat until you are bursting. And still I am hungry. I just didn't realize that food won't satisfy that kind of hunger.
I'm sorry about not getting enough exercise. We were doing so well for a while there, and it is totally my fault that it all stopped. It's just that my bed is so darn comfortable. It's so easy to curl up in the cocoon of blankets and sleep through reality. Plus, it's been cold out. Not my fault, that.

I'm also sorry for not moisturizing enough, for picking at your scabs, for all those paper cuts. I'm sorry for stubbing your toe. I'm sorry for not getting more massages. I'm sorry for last St. Patrick's Day, though you have to admit it was fun until about 7pm. I'll go easier on you this year, but if you could just let the liver know to be prepared, that would be great. I mean, I still have to celebrate a *little* bit.

Look, I know I haven't been the best. But if you maybe work with me a little, I promise that eventually I'll get you what you keep asking for. You physically ache when I think about having a child. I can feel you swelling, wanting so badly to carry another life, to nurture. I want the same thing, it's just going to take a little while.

Hang in there, we'll talk again soon.


Sunday, March 2, 2008

My poor husband

Once upon a time A_ was a professional chef. He cooked fancy food in a fancy restaurant. He no longer cooks professionally, but he still makes amazing things for me to eat. He whips up scones out of thin air and does a mean bbq. He brulees sweet creamy goodness and whispers sweet nothings to chicken.
I blame him for being fat - I was thin as a child.
Growing up, my mom was not a very good cook. She had a few things that she cooked really well, but then she'd try to experiment and end up with a rebellion against her neon orange meatballs. I have inherited this from her.
I can cook about four things really, really well: curry, chili, and apple pie.

Ok, that was only three. Pathetic.

The first time that A_ came to my apartment, I cooked dinner. My roommate made an amazing tequila lime chicken and I had listened halfheartedly to his directions. When A_sat down to eat I spooned out rubber in a bath of tequila. It was straight up nasty. But he took a bite, choked a little on the alcohol and told me it was good. I took a bite and suggested we order a pizza.

Luckily I had made pie for dessert.

Tonight I attempted to make chicken. Once again, it was disgusting. I don't know why I can't just make it simply, but I can't. I have to experiment and it always ends poorly. Its ridiculous - who can't make chicken?
A_ took a bite and tried to be nice, but then admitted it was not actually edible.
So A_ needs to heal quickly. Otherwise we will both starve.

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Yeesh. I was a little harsh about Nurse Nofilter, (and a little whiney, sorry) but it was good to have something to fixate on. My friend Becky called me last night and commented on how anxious I had been the night before when she called me. I was a little surprised because I thought I was as cool as a cucumber when I talked to her. Apparently I'm crappy at studied nonchalance.

For those of you who asked what a "ton" of sperm was, we got five vials that each have appx. 21 million of the kiddos. We have to do ICSI anyways, so just that it was there was really the most important thing. So basically, we have five tries (although can thy refreeze? I don't know). Regardless, seeing as how we can't even afford one right now, I think we'd give up before we got to five tries at IVF.
Unfortunately, the waiting room people didn't get the follow up because the doctor brought me over to the consulting area to tell me exactly how much a ton was and that we had 19% motility. I'm sure they were all disappointed not to see the picture too. I'd show you a picture of our half children, but I don't have a scanner at home. We're saving it for the baby book. (Mwahaha! I'm already turning into my mother!)
I feel so ungrateful. I should be thrilled that A_ had sperm and we got so much and blah blah blah. But all I can think about is the fact that I don't feel like we have anything to look forward to. Before now I could think about the surgery. Now what? I can think about saving money. But it'll probably be a year before I can call an RE and make that first appointment. I know it's not, but a year seems like such a long time. I feel like I have a tendency to whine on my blog (um, like right now, maybe?) and I hate it, but is that all I'm going to want to do for the next year? Nobody wants to read that. Sigh.