Friday, February 29, 2008

Step one complete

We don't have any money in the bank...
but we do have sperm!

I'll post more later about the nurse I almost clocked.
__________
OK, it's later. I have a killer headache, so this may or may not be terribly cohesive.

So we got up at 5am to go to the surgery center where we forked over pretty much our entire savings. We've been running low because A_ quit his job in December to study for the bar so it was painful to see how quickly our money disappeared once we go there. We had already paid the doctor, but still had to do the facility fee, anesthesiologist, and sperm sorting and freezing. Ouch. It added up. And of course this week our water heater has gone on the fritz - it needs to be replaced.
The nurse that was in charge of checking and freezing the sperm pissed me off.
(My husband, ever the levelheaded of the two of us, calmed me down, explaining that she might have been dumb, but she was well-intentioned. I still dislike her, but I no longer want to punch her in the ovaries.)

We first met Nurse No-filter while we were waiting for A_ to go in, after he had already gotten an IV and that sexy gown that showed off his ass when he got up to pee. She was very gregarious for 7am, smiling and laughing. Everything was soooooo interesting! With an exclamation point!
She looked at A_s birthday and was so! amazed! it was in October! because her son! was born! in September!
Um, yeah. There are only twelve months lady. It's not that shocking.
And her son who was born in September was born because she had sex at Christmas. Drunken sex. Which resulted in a pregnancy and a birth. Excla-fucking-mation point.

Look, although it sometimes makes me sad or jealous when I see a woman who has a kid or who got pregnant without trying, I don't generally dislike them for it. But when you are a nurse who works with infertiles, I .really. really. don't want to hear about how you managed to get drunk and knocked up.

So Nurse No-Filter then said to me that generally people do this procedure with the wife doing IVF at the same time. Oh my god? They DO?
I explained that we didn't have money and it would probably be a year before we could afford it.
End of conversation, right?
Wrong.

Did I know that the RE she worked for upstairs was wonderful and had great success rates? Did I know that we could do a shared risk? (Um, if I don't have 10 grand, what makes you think I have 3o grand?)
Thanks for the info, but we can't afford it right now.
No really, he's great. We could probably finance our IVF. Exclamation point.
Thanks but it really will be a year. We're going to save the money. I'll check him out.
You'd think that saying it twice would get through to her, but apparently not. Over the course of the morning, the three other times I saw her, she repeated how great the doctor was and how I should really look into it.
Look bitch, unless you have the money to give me or he only charges a grand for IVF, ain't happening.
It's like she gets kickbacks and turned off her hearing aid.

So since I already disliked her, I was happy when she ran over and yelped that they got "Tons of sperm!" (becasue, yay sperm) but not thrilled that she did so in front of all twenty of the other people in the waiting area.

So yeah. Nurse No Filter can bite me, but
Sperm! (Exclamation point.)

A_ is being pretty good, sitting here all day watching tv and holding the peas on his balls. He's being very sweet and not complaining at all.
I love this man.



Thursday, February 28, 2008

One down, one to go

Thank you all for your fantastic good vibes, prayers, etc. A_ came home last night after finishing the bar and he felt ok about it. He wasn't crying at least. Since it's not supposed to be easy, I figure feeling ok is ok. His brother and I went shopping and we got some nice steaks and very nice scotch and the two of them stood outside grilling and drinking scotch as it snowed. It was all very manly.
Oh, and then they watched Predator for the millionth time. Very, very manly. And to be honest, kind of fun. Although the line "If it bleeds, we can kill it" kind of smacks of misogyny to me.
He won't find out until May if he passed, which seems like one of the worst parts. (Maybe not quite as bad as trying to memorize all of the Indiana rules, half of which I now know from doing flashcards with him. Kate, maybe we can go to law school together - I have a head start on studying. ) Like a two week wait, there really isn't anything you can do to change the outcome. You just have to wait and see what happens.

So, we ate, we drank and we were merry.
He goes shopping today to get a couple suits for when he becomes a lawyer and can no longer wear ratty jeans to work.

And then tomorrow is surgery. Anyone who has been there and done that have any advice for his MESA? Is there something we should be aware of - like fiber? Somebody told Shinejil that she should eat lots of fiber before her surgery because of the anesthesia.
Right now our game plan consists solely of a bag of frozen peas, per our friends who have had vasectomies. So if there is anything you think we should know, feel free to give all the assvice you want.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Mom, please stop talking

Since A_ has been staying at a hotel to take the bar, I went over to see my parents last night. We had gyros, watched HGTV, and, uh...that's about it. My parents obviously lead a life almost as exciting as my own.

After dinner, my dad left to go to some church thing and my mom and I sat around for a bit.
She asked when A_'s surgery was, told me I needed to stop drinking soda since apparently it will ruin both your gums and chances at a baby, and then said "Oh, I was watching 0prah the other day..." She doesn't normally watch 0prah, so I knew immediately which one she had watched. The episode in which girls (all girls - did anyone else think that was weird?) talked about how their lives were terribly bereft of all joy because their fathers were sperm donors.
(I watched that episode too and was not impressed. I don't want to diminish these womens pain, especially the one who was told when she was like 30 or something, I felt like perhaps they felt something was missing in their lives and this was simply the easiest thing to ascribe it to. Not going to get into it, but yeah, 0prah kinda dropped the ball on that.)

Anyways, apparently since IVF didn't work for my cousin whose husband has a vasectomy, my mother is worried that it IF treatments won't work for us and (she said with a sly look on her face) we should maybe consider A_'s brother as a sperm donor. Because he'd be known and all. So our kids wouldn't end up on 0prah in twenty years, see?
And hey, we could just mix their sperm together for the IUI. So they could help A_s sperm along. (Please note my mother decided all on her own that sperm is made up of friendly wood sprites who assist each other in reaching the golden egg.) Not to mention: um, what? I had previously explained that we'd have to do IVF. Was she not listening?

Apparently not. She thought maybe she had confused me with somebody else that she had talked to.

Which baffles me - I mean, do *many* people talk to my mother about their infertility problems? Are there all sorts of women she can confuse with her daughter that talk about sperm to her? I'm totally bemused by this.
So you women who have sperm issues that are talking to my mom about it - next time please remind her that *you* are not her daughter. I don't want to get left out of her will. Thank you.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Cookies, anyone?

Look annacyclopedia! I saw this:



and thought of you, so I bought it! (Plus it was on sale.) I can make you treats! (Right? Can you eat this?)

Can I get some cheese with my...?

Geesh, I read that last post about Dr. Dick and I sure seemed angry. I'm generally not an angry person, unless it involves politics or somebody being mean to helpless creatures or my husband trying to eat my ice cream. (In fairness, he usually thinks we're sharing. But I don't share ice cream. He should know that by now.)
Thank you all for your support. Your comments made me laugh and smile. Nobody else around here really does the MESA as their specialty (there was one kinda creepy looking urologist in town who claims he does them, but most of his practice is cancer-related) and Dr. Dick is supposed to be the best, which is really the most important thing. And I'm fairly certain that he wouldn't give us back our money if we canceled.
I think I am perhaps more nervous about Friday than I had realized. Babychaser totally called me out on it.
I am terrified that they won't find anything. Reading blogs has been an incredible blessing - I have this incredible community of all you amazing women - but I have also read so many blogs that are ten steps ahead of me and I know that my fairy tale of finding sperm and doing IVF and miraculously knocking me up on the first try might not happen. We might not find sperm, or I might be a poor responder, or our babies might not want to stick. (And of course we have to find money for all of this. That might be the most daunting of all.) There are just so many ways this can *not* work out and all of those thoughts are flitting about in the back of my head. I had a dream that we didn't even get to the surgery because we arrived and suddenly they needed more money than we had. (In my dream I started crying. In real life I would probably grab a scalpel and explain calmly to the doctor that unless he wanted *his* balls cut open, the surgery needed to happen. And then I would be arrested and have to hope that I could do IVF from jail.)
So for all of you who have that bitch Hope hanging around bugging you, if you could just send her
my way, I could definitely use some optimism. I know that we have a 90% chance that everything will be ok on Friday, but I am so focused on the negative.

Ah, one of the other things adding to my general stress... I haven't mentioned that one of the reasons we have no money is that A_ just finished l@w school. He's taking the bar exam today and tomorrow, so if you have incredible mind powers or you're tight with G*d or something, send some love his way. It's been a crappy couple of months while he studied, but I think it has kept his mind largely off of Friday.

Uh oh

This Google Reader thing? It is like crack.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Dumb question

Call me slow, but how do you (yes, you) read other people's blogs? Right now I go down my blogroll list and click each persons blog. But I am 99% sure there is a better way... it's probably terribly obvious, but will somebody point it out to me?
Thanks in advance for not making fun of me. Unless you do, in which case I probably deserve it.

Edit: Thanks everyone! I signed up to be a clicker for lost and found and was starting to freak out thinking about literally having to click on each of the blogs. I went ahead with the Google Reader. Of course, this will probably keep me from clicking on everyones blog 200 a day. Your views are all going to go down. Probably. Maybe. Ok, maybe not.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Welcoming our newest cast member...

It is entirely possible that I am the world's most boring person. I was able to bullshit my way through two entries this week by doing the truths and lies, but now I am out of ideas.
One of my greatest fears when I started this blog was that I wouldn't have anything to blog about. I am getting very close to that place this week:

I have eaten delicious curry chicken salad, courtesy of A_.
I have eaten delicious ridiculously priced steak, courtesy of boss man.
I have gone to work.
I have brushed my teeth.
I have washed my face, but I have a pimple in the middle of my damn cheek which pisses me off.
I have coached some speeches with an old friend.
I have read other blogs (and made some stupid comments - thank goodness Nancy is as cool as she is, cause I am an idiot.)
I, uh...seriously can't think of anything else. I had frosted mini-wheats for breakfast.

However, NEXT week should be more exciting.
A_ has his surgery a week from today. We need to call and see what exactly this is going to cost us. We already paid the urologist's fee of like over two grand, but we still need to pay the facility fee (which, by the way, is bullshit. It's going to be another two grand to use the operating place for a couple hours at most. The operating place that the fucking urologist OWNS part of.) We also have to find out how much the anesthesiologist is going to cost. On top of that, we got a letter saying that we need to send in $675 ahead of time for the sperm freezing. Assuming we get some. Mthrfkrs better give us the money back if there isn't any.

When Mel asked everyone to write about how we chose our paths after IF a week or so ago, I emailed her our story and I think I mentioned that the urologist didn't really give any options. This was the diagnosis, this was the way we could still have kids, think the surgery will most likely be successful, here's the price for the surgery (left off more than half the actual cost on the brochure, mind you), I'm pretty sure your insurance won't cover it, so I need payment up front, here's my scheduler's card, call and make the appointment. Then he said he recommended the fertility clinic that the urology offices shared a building with. He really prefers that I be doing the IVF treatment at the same time. Never mind that it's taking all we have to do this first step with him. And he was off to his next appointment.

I hate this urologist.
I mean really, the more I think about it, the more I hate him. I have been really lucky with doctors in my life - my doctor growing up was very patient and nice. My doctor now spends much of her time teaching, but really wants to keep connected so she has some patients and when you see her, she listens and takes time and generally acts like she cares.
The doctor that I used to work for is incredible. He was always way behind and his patients knew that an appointment might mean waiting an hour (sometimes two) first, but once you got in there, he would spend an entire hour going over everything if you needed it. Probably 90% of our patients were gay men, about 1/3 of whom were HIV positive. Dr. R understood that sometimes they needed more than a doctor who would just tell them their latest viral load. They needed somebody to talk to and cry with. They needed somebody who cared that they couldn't afford their meds and was going to do something about it. They needed advice about how to handle their positive status and their lives, because being HIV+ was part of who they were every day. Dr. R. fucking *cares* about people.

I really don't feel like A_'s surgeon cares about us as people. Granted, this is a short relationship. It's one surgery and done. He won't be getting us pregnant, he's just be a step along the way. But still, can I get some fucking compassion? Just a brief acknowledgment that this sucks?
I mean, even the insurance coverage person I talked to, when I called in the hopes that maybe those wacky kids would cover his surgery anyways, at least seemed to feel really terrible that it wouldn't be covered. The woman looked it up and seemed really, genuinely sorry when she told me it wasn't covered and I began to cry.

So basically what I have been trying to say is that I get to give the first doctor "name" on my blog. I'm sure it's been used before, but...Welcome, Dr. Dick, to Who Shot my Stork.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

The truth comes out

Ok, apparently I'm not good at pretending to lie, because I can't remember the stories I have told. All of you who remembered something about me being in a dryer were correct. Nobody got both, but partial credit goes to Mel, Jendeis, Emily, and of course Kate.

1. I used to have over 9 body piercings, but now only my ears are pierced.
Lies, all lies. I wasn't allowed to get my ears pierced until I was 13. I had two holes in each ear at one point, but that was about as wild as I got. It just seemed too painful to go along with my friends as they pierced tongues, eyebrows, noses, and er..."down there."

2. I once won a Star Trek creative writing competition
True. I was in 7th grade I think. The Indy library had a contest and I won my age category. I wrote part of it in Klingon, because that is just how geeky I was.

3.I have a tattoo of the word "also" on my back.
True. My best friend L and I have always said "I love you also" instead of "I love you too."
When somebody tells you they love you, too often we respond "I love you too" without thinking about it.
When we use also, we are saying that we have thought about it and we really mean it when we say "I love you." So we end every conversation by telling each other "also." She has the mirror image of the word on her back.

4. My middle name is Wilson.
False. My middle name is Celia. I did however take the Saint name of Thomas More when I was confirmed because I thought he seemed like a cool dude. The archbishop did not look impressed as he welcomed the bald-headed chick as "Thomas."

5. I've been inside a dryer while it was on.
True. Apparently I already told this story. Whoops. When I was in 5th grade I was playing hide and seek and chose to hide in the dryer, because I would climb in there when we had tornadoes.
(Looking back, I am slightly horrified that my mother thought this was a good place for me. I mean, would rescuers think to look in the dryer?) Anyways, I hid in the dryer with the door open and Nate P. came along and kicked it closed. Apparently the dryer was on and closing the door started it up. I wasn't in long before my mother heard me screaming and came running to let me out. I used my experience as an excuse for weird behavior for years to come.

6. I once dated a guy who thought I was British.
True. When I was nannying in NYC I was riding the subway and reading Sam Shepard's "Motel Chronicles." The guy sitting across from me asked me about it, I responded in a British accent (What? You don't walk around large cities trying on different characters?), he was cute, I was cute, he asked me out, I said yes.
Only problem was, how was I going to explain that in fact that whole accent thing was um, fake?
I never quite figured it out for the first date and that was really the only time I could have POSSIBLY gotten away with explaining and not have him run screaming. I was about to move to London, so I knew the relationship wasn't going to be more than three weeks anyways, so I never got around to telling him. I just broke his little heart after three weeks. He was all about continuing the relationship long-distance-style (after three weeks! Um, creepy) but for obvious reasons that wasn't going to work. Plus, he was shorter than me. And he probably liked my accent more than anything else.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Is it Friday yet?

One of my new internet buddies, Jen, tagged me for that meme everyone's been doing. I already did it, but she said it is a requirement of being her friend and I'm too lazy to really figure out what to write without numbering random thoughts.

1. The Vagina Mon0logues went well. The money we raised went to INCASA.
We used all of your suggestions as music to play in the house before the show, so thank you all for your ideas! My video was ok, but it wasn't what I had hoped - I just didn't have time to really do what I wanted with it. I'm not incredibly proud of it so I am choosing not to post it. I know, I suck. But a huge shout out to Kate for emailing me images.

2. A_ went to culinary school once upon a time. So he cooks. And he cleans. And I have pictures of the yummy lemon scones he made this weekend, but not on this computer. I'll add them later.
EDIT:
Here we go. Yum. Lemon scone with blueberries and cream.



3. Um. How about I abandon this format because I am all scatterbrained right now and do Mel's four or six truths and two lies or whatever the ration of truth to lies was thing:

Four truths, two lies, guess what's what:
1. I used to have over 9 body piercings, but now only my ears are pierced.
2. I once won a Star Trek creative writing competition
3.I have a tattoo of the word "also" on my back.
4. My middle name is Wilson.
5. I've been inside a dryer while it was on.
6. I once dated a guy who thought I was British.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Why do I do things like this?

I have a tendency to volunteer for everything.
Can I stay late at work? Sure. Can I watch your dog? Absolutely! Can I come judge a speech and debate tournament at 7am on Saturday? No problem. Can I paint your living room? Why not! Can I put together a film for Friday that will play before the V*gina M*nologues? But of course I can!

Er. Shit. Now I'm sitting her trying to think of what should go in the film. It's not going to be anything elaborate - I just want to use it as an introduction to the show. But what mix of female empowerment/anti-violence/sexuality awareness do I use? The show has kind of a funky balance between the three.
Any ideas? Images I should use? Any songs that you think might be appropriate? I was thinking about some music, but right now I think I might have to go with no lyrics unless one of you has a kick-ass song idea.
Seriously, throw it all out there. I need to get this done by Friday. Ack. Stupid eager Io.

Edit: By the way, is it national delurk week or something? All these way cool chicks have delurked lately and it is awesome! I am running in circles in my house singing "I feel pretty! Oh so pretty!"

Monday, February 11, 2008

My vagina has a first name...

I'm performing in a production of The Vagina M0nologues this year. My main mon0logue is "My Angry V*gina" which is a pretty fun one. I get to bitch about the multitude of things that get shoved up us. I don't love everything in the show, but I like the dialog the show tends to spark.
(For instance, I learned that it is illegal to sell vibrators in Indiana! Apparently people are able to get around this by labeling them as "novelty" items.)
I guess my own vagina confession would be that the poor thing gets no play. In the monologue I talk about cold duck lips and I thought of all my IF gals: How so many of you have dildocams and speculums and catheters for IUI. How so many of you have to put suppositories there. How hard you work to bleed or not bleed each month. How some of you plan when to have sex. How much thought goes into your (insert name for vagina and corresponding parts here. Lady-bits, va-jayjay, coochie snorter, vagina, who-ha, etc. And yes, I recognize that the vagina is a world away from, say, the ovaries, but this is my blog and I can lump 'em all in together if I want to.)

My vagina has none of that.
The only action my vagina has gotten recently was a tampon like three weeks ago. I can't remember the last time I had the s.e.x. but it's probably been a month. (Honey, if you're reading this, stop. And yes, I know it's my fault too. Maybe I'll get crazy and shave my legs this weekend.) I haven't had a PAP smear in a year and a half. (Er, I need to take care of that.)
I feel like my vagina is going along with my IVF plans - she's in wait. We can't afford to do it right now, so she has gone into hibernation until that time. I don't think much about her except when I am cramping. We're just kind of platonic roommates, waiting until the lease is up to figure out if we're going to keep living together.

So what kind of relationship do you have with your vagina? Has that changed since IF?

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Bored

OK, I know not all of you support Obama, and that even if you are undecided that a music video won't (and shouldn't) help you make up your mind, but if you *are* an Obama supporter, this is such a cool video by will.i.am.

Edit: I listened to this song on repeat last night for an hour while I did paperwork. A_ thinks you should all know that I am crazy, so take the recommendation for what it's worth.

I have a unibrow? Awesome.







Which Western feminist icon are you?




You are Frida Kahlo! You are an artistic, passionate, vulnerable person, with openly bisexual tendancies and were the first womyn to have her own gallery show in Mexico. You slept with ... Trotsky?
Take this quiz!







Thursday, February 7, 2008

Bye Charlie

I am so sad. Charlie the puppy has gone back home. And I am such a stinky person. When his papa came to pick him up I was hoping he'd not be interested, that he would want to stay with me and A_. But of course, he wiggled all over and jumped up over and over again and gave his papa lots of tiny puppy kisses. And his papa took him away.

It's very quiet in here now without the puppy. And it is pathetic how sad I am over a puppy. I can't imagine being my cousin, who might be forced to send her foster kids back to their abusive mother.

I have been so busy this week that I'm kind of behind on blog reading, but I promise to catch up this weekend.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

In which I am a badass vigilante and Charlie kills a dinosaur

My night got better yesterday. I went out for my friend E's birthday with the girls and we went to a yummy tapas bar. I was the dd. As we were driving away from the bar, we were behind the drunkest person I have ever seen. We called 911 and followed him from a safe distance. He was slowly weaving back and forth, bouncing off the curb, running a red light, almost hitting a car. All going very slowly though, which is good. He must have realized we were following him because he pulled to the side of the road, just in time for the cops to show up and arrest him. The four of us in the car were all quite excited to be getting a drunk driver off the streets and whatnot. We high-fived all around. T was rather disappointed that she didn't get the cute cop's name though.
----------------------------------------------
Oh the puppy.
Unfortunately, we do not get to keep Charlie. He belongs to the guy whose campaign I worked on. He had to go out of town for a few days. Under the guise of being a nice and self-sacrificing person, I convinced him that he should just have me watch his dog instead of kenneling him. It would save him money and be better for the dog. Really, I just wanted his dog. Because he's so freaking cute. I am about to go and give him a bath, because he is a smelly puppy, but first:

In which Charlie kills a dinosaur:
video



In which Charlie makes sure the dinosaur is dead and decides to take a nap:
video

Friday, February 1, 2008

Friday at last

Note: Just ignore this first paragraph- it's just me whining about my week despite not really having the worst problems in the world. Its really annoying.

I'm feeling rather crappity about this week. It's been cold and wet and slushy. Work has been busy because we are hosting a conference next week and everything has to be perfect and done now and dammit Io, have you checked on this and shit Io have you done that and ARGH. I intended to leave work at the leisurely hour of 3pm and go work out and run errands before I went to celebrate my friend E's b
irthday. But I just got home and it's 5pm and while that is still early, it's two hours off my plan. And I slammed my leg with my car door and now I have a chunk of skin torn off that hurts like heckfire and darnnation. And I stepped in dog shit and then tracked it on the carpet. And the dog threw up. And I need to go work out because my wonderful determined A_ (who brought me lunch today- yay!) has gotten up at 5:30 am every day this week to go work out and I have gone twice. In the afternoon. Because I am a bitch at 5:30 am who will fight tooth and nail not to get out of bed. And all I really want to do it change into footie pajamas and climb into bed with hot cocoa. But I don't own any footie pajamas. And I'm super jealous of Nancy who is *incredible* and who I am so, so happy for, because she has her IVF cycle scheduled, because I desperately wish that we could afford to do IVF right now and we can't. And I hate the fact that I am jealous. Because jeeze, it could be so much worse. And I'm thirsty. Hmm..maybe we have water in the fridge...

OK, so that was all the shitty I-feel-depressed-and-sorry-for-my-pathetic-self-but-there-are-starving
-children-in-Africa-so-I-need-to-shut-up stuff. It's out of the way, so I
can talk about the great stuff.

We have a puppy this weekend! This is Charlie:

He is very a wiggly 6-month old toy poodle puppy.

I brought him with me to work today, so he could play with our office dog, Betty:
(As you can see, Betty is a Cardinals fan and a beautiful standard poodle who *thinks* she is puppy.)

Betty did not eat Charlie, much to my relief. She was actually very gentle with him, despite the fact that he kept humping her leg, which was bigger than his whole body.(She is about 50 pounds and he's probably 5 pounds.)

Other good things:

- A_ got his bloodwork done today for his surgery, so assuming they don't call and say he has some horrible disease, he should be good to go for the 29th. Less than a month until we know for sure we will have something to freeze!

-The puppy, who is very cute, but very hyper, is sleeping.

-The cats still love me despite the fact that I have brought a DOG into their house.

-I have booze.

Edit: And Tracy is getting some kick-ass betas! Go Wonder Twins!