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July 2008

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This is the Day That Makes Me CRAZY

So I went in yesterday and one follicle was 18.5, the other 13.5.  They like to see at least an 18 before giving the trigger shot.

I got the trigger shot about 9am.
Last night at 11:30pm, I felt ovulatory pains very, very strong ones.

Now, from what I know:  a trigger shot induces ovulation between 12-24 hours (some say 36?) and you should have the IUI between 24-36 hours afterwards.
What a minute, after what??  After the trigger or after I ovulate/feel ovulation?

But what if I ovulated at 14 hours past trigger?  Which is what it felt like…
Once the egg is released it’s viable for about 24 hours and frozen sperm live 6-12 hours, so an 11am IUI would be good timing because it’s within the 24 hours after ovulation, yes?
Or it would be bad because you want the sperm sitting there ready to pounce WHEN you ovulate?
See, I should know all of this.  Really, I should.  I do, I just forget.  I get confused.  I second-guess everything and I feel so stupid after 5 tries and how many months of prep to still be asking basic questions.

I’ve got a call in to my RE and nurse this morning already, but they are so crazy in the a.m. no one has called me back.

This day is the one that makes me crazy.  The second-guessing and crap shoot timing of it all.
This is the day, every month, that I wonder how anyone ever gets pregnant. 

****Edited to add:  Nurse called.  Basically told me according to my blood yesterday there is no way I’ve already ovulated.  Please remember I took hormones this month and quit freaking out.  Hee Hee.****
So….I’ve got 45 minutes to walk myself up to the spermification palace.  See ya.
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Day 11 and More Crazy Dreams

I’ve been warned by J.K-C of Our Incredible True Adventures that these crazy dreams may keep going on and on and on…

More weird dreams for your entertainment…last night I dreamt I had a spreadsheet of the IVP bloggers. I knew your real names; there was a photo and your age. I could finally keep everyone straightened out in my head. It was fantastic.



A girl called Wendy came through about 5am, destroyed my life and almost caused K bodily harm.
You see K had been seeing Wendy behind my back (ah yes, that would be cheating) and when I found out and woke up it took every bit of sanity to talk myself out of kicking and hitting her. I sat up and pondered where to kick her first. I thought about waking her up and yelling at her and asking her ‘who the hell is Wendy?’ But then I remembered I was dreaming. Even so, I still thought about kicking her and blaming it on a nightmare but by that point I was wide awake and coherent.

It took me a long time to get back to sleep after that. Wendy was hot.

The Day 11 follie scan went great, one at 10.5 and one at 15. Doc doubts the tenner will make it, but we’ve got high hopes for #15.

Estrogen, 358 and LH, 11.5 for those of you interested in the numbers. I predict an IUI Thursday. Let’s see if I’m right.

The nurse and Doc were all very amused to hear of my J.Lo dreams. That got quite the laugh and it’s not always easy to make these people laugh, trust me, I try.

Doctors are Very.Serious.People.

Basically this cycle, I have been chillin’. I’m not thinking about getting pregnant, or analyzing charts or anything related to baby-making other then the bare necessities—like Dr. appointments, eating well, exercising and taking my pre-natals. K and I have not been talking much about it and that’s good by me.

We’ve been thoroughly enjoying ourselves this summer, packing as much into it as possible thinking “this could be the last summer of freedom”. Not that K and I don’t want to have a tiny bambino encroaching on our freedoms, but things will change more than we can even imagine and right now, we are focusing on the positive aspects of being totally free.

We had a rich and varied life before thinking about getting pregnant and I don’t want to get so bogged down in the TTC that it changes all of these things in my life.

So for now, I’m having an awesome summer. And when I get pregnant, I get pregnant. Maybe it will be this month. Maybe not. I don’t know. And for right now, that’s OK.

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Fertility Soup

This week K has been able to work from home which means that she’s home for TEN straight days!!! Considering we usually only see each other 3 days a week, this is almost like a vacation!

Aside from work, she’s also been cooking up a storm, making sure I’m well fed and healthy.

This soup is called [insert name] Fertility Soup. Enjoy!

One bunch kale, chopped
One can white canellini beans
One can crushed tomatoes
One carton chicken stock
A few garlic scapes (or 1 clove garlic), finely chopped
1/2 onion, diced
Diced, sauteed pancetta (or bacon) as you wish

Sautee garlic scapes and onion in olive oil
In large pot, add all ingredients w/ kale last.
Salt and pepper to taste.
Garnish w/ grated parmesan

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The Evil Ms. C

Cl.o.mid that is.

I’m done! I made it through five days with no side effects other than being a little bit more prone to crying and this:

“I hope you DIE,” yelled at K with eyes wide open in the middle of the night.
“Honey, I think you’re having a nightmare.”
“Oh. I am”, and with that I went back to sleep.

That was me yelling at my stepfather (I don’t want K to die!).

Funny thing about the Evil Ms C, she makes me dream very vividly for one (and I’m taking it in the morning) but also, I remember with incredible clarity ALL of the crazy dreams.

The night before that, I did yoga on the lawn with J. Lo. Yep. I don’t even care about J.Lo, don’t know what she sings, don’t know much about J. Lo other than that big booty, but damned if we didn’t have an awesome yoga session on her lawn.

Also that night, a naked man chasing me who had white mushrooms growing on his, ahem, ‘member’.

WTF?!?

If this is the worst thing the Evil Ms. C has in store for me, it’s all good.

Tomorrow I have a date with the dildocam and we’ll see if this is taking me anywhere good.

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Playing Tourist in NYC

I had an old friend in town last week and Thursday we played tourist in NYC. I love having visitors and an excuse to do all the things you don’t otherwise.

But H wanted to go to Ellis Island. A very patriotic place. On the 3rd of July. With about 2 million tourists in town (I don’t know how many, but there’s a LOT of map totin’ going on in my corner of the world).

So I say to my very dear H, “Yes, we can go but we have to go EARLY.” “How early?” “The first ferry leaves at 9am.” “I could check out of the hotel and be to your place by 9:30, maybe 9:45.”

Fair enough.

I know he will be late. He is always late. But I gave him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he lived here 8 years ago and we’ve all changed a great deal since 2000.

At 12:50 after standing in line for 40 minutes in the blazing sun, we found out the next (and last) ferry would depart at 2pm and we needed to go stand in line now to get on, but there was no guarantee it wasn’t already full. WTF?!

Deciding that maybe standing in line all day wasn’t the best way to spend the day, we bailed and instead took the easy and free Staten Island Ferry to chill and have a great view of Lady Liberty.

We then walked through the oldest part of downtown, stopping by Fraunces Tavern, where

at the end of the Revolutionary War in 1783, it played host to General George Washington’s famed farewell dinner for his officers.

Continuing on to a photo op at the Stock Exchange on Wall Street, we stopped to eat on this cute-as-can-be street. I worked on Wall Street until Septemeber 11th and this walk made me realize how much I miss this rich and historied part of my city.

Fortified we continued through downtown and made our way into Chinatown. I love Chinatown. It always make me feel like I have left NYC and made it to another country and I did all all on foot. I do not mean the Chinatown of Canal Street, oh no, I mean East Broadway and Catherine and way under the bridges Chinatown. It’s stinky and crowded and glorious. And cheap. The fish is the freshest; you choose it swimming and they cut the head off for you. The produce is beautiful and strange and everything seems to be $1. It may not be organic, but maybe it is and with prices like this, it’s hard for me to care.

It makes me have fantasies of putting a wicker basket on my bike and heading down every Saturday morning to do my Chinese food shopping, hitting the Farmer’s Market on the way back home and spending the weekend cooking. Must Buy Wicker Bicycle Basket.

Armed with three different types of Bubble Tea, we carried on through NoLiTa and the East Village before collasping on the couch.

By dinner time we were ready to go again and made our way to the MeatPacking District for dinner here, which was made even more lovely because they were able to seat us outside, it was a gorgeous evening AND they had strawberry shortcake.

The rest of the evening was spent pouring over boxes of photos from the past and getting more than a little teary-eyed. That’s the thing about the past, no matter how great it was, it’s never coming back.

Friends like H are priceless and I am incredibly blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life. Now if they would just stop leaving NYC….