Archive for September, 2008

My thoughts on fibre drinks:

September 25, 2008

While I admit that finding what appears to be a twig in my ass (presumably some kick ass fibre gone wild!), it sure is nice to be able to have a healthy, normal poop.

(I am going to be an 80something-year-old woman who talks about prunes a lot, I feel.)


Even the grey clouds can’t get me down.

September 24, 2008

Today is shaping up into an altogether tasty day. Highlights include:

1. My new career as an envelope decorator. One of the children I work with has a birthday soon, and I have rarely enjoyed coloured pens and stickers so much.

2. Myself and a friend at work are talking entirely in Haiku.

3. The session I was anxious about all last night was kickin’. I took the lead and I think it went really well. A little of my confidence is back.

4. My sister and I are exchanging very long emails about very big stuff. It feels gorgeous.

The only thing that would make today better is if I already had my license and TMD had left the car at home, allowing me to drive and pick up dinner. She’s out really late this evening, and I really fancy chips.

The only blight in my day, which is actually so screwy I kind of enjoy it, is that my septum really fucking hurts if I push up on it. I think this is my nose’s way of telling me it is not happy that it is not pierced. Damn TMD for repiercing her nose and looking so good – and not wanting to be ‘twins*.’ She wants to be ‘a cool lesbian mum.’

I will have to find a way to be cool. I suspect it will involve envelopes in some way.

Peace out, bro’. For reals.

* Besides, I tell her, you aren’t twins with someone if opposite sides of the nose are pierced. Dental health be damned, I never should have taken out my tongue ring. That’s cooler than the nose thing any day.

A loooooooooooong night.

September 24, 2008

I’ve been going to bed really early due to all the early morning doctor’s appointments. I ended up asleep early again last night, despite knowing this was a ‘normal time’ morning. (And I ran into John again at the train station. Odd guy, but sort of nice to have a train station friend. Like when you were in university and had ‘class friends.’)

The consequence of going to bed so early meant I woke a lot through the night. Ah, the better to remember my IVF dreams. I must have have five different dreams about it. When I’d wake up, I’d think about IVF or an anxiety-provoking session I have scheduled with a client today.

All of the dreams centred around the injections I have to give myself/make TMD give me. The worst one was being in hospital and being taught how to do it – I had two injections. One with a blue top, one with a red. One HAD to go in this vein in the back of my left thigh, the other HAD to go in the back of the other thigh. I couldn’t remember if I’d put the right medication in each vial, I couldn’t remember which went in which leg, etc.

And worse than all that, I simply could not put the needle against my skin and push.

Anxiety, what what?

Ripley ain’t got nothing on the male maid.

September 23, 2008

One of our cleaners at work thinks there is a ghost haunting one of the bathrooms.

Moving onwards and upwards.

September 23, 2008

I used to be obsessed with taking career tests. In university, I actually went along to the career centre because I was so confused – should I be a teacher or a psychologist? I spent 45 minutes – at least – taking a variety of tests.

The oh-so-conculsive result said I should be…drumroll please…a teacher or a psychologist.

I’ve also taken the Myer-Briggs test a number of times. I found a version of it I really liked today and ended up being an INFJ – something I’ve never scored before (although I admit my I and my F were almost knocked out of the water by low/ambivalent scoring). Regardless, I clicked through to see what my career matches were – writer and counsellor.

GOOD TIMES, online personality test. I wish I could escalate the writer and just concentrate on having a fabulous imagination and cooking babies in my tummy.

Things you shouldn’t tell medical professionals.

September 23, 2008

Oh. While filling in the donor info form, there was a section marked ‘skills.’ The nurse said, ‘You could put sports, or cooking…’ TMD kindly explained to her that I cannot do either of these things. We were actually hard pressed for what to write, and ‘sign language’ had to make an appearance. Despite the fact that I think I look like a dunce on paper, I hope people still thinks my eggs are awesome. I did assure the nurse that I was brilliantly smart.

While filling in the ‘physical characteristics’ section, I said, ‘Boy, I look like I’m part of the Ar*yan Nation.’ I don’t think THAT was the best thing to say in this situation – or any situation, in fact.

Let me go on record as saying one of my best friends is Jewish, unless that makes me look like I’m trying too hard. (Much love, Cookie sista.)

Baby momma.

September 23, 2008

Was back at the clinic this morning. Some complicated period math went on.

You see, I have to have all my blood tests back before I am accepted as an egg donor. The doctor-lady said I could start taking the pill next Tuesday (when my period is due, so whenever it actually starts) as then if the tests were all fine we could go ahead with the drugs and treatment.

Then there was a big ass gap before we saw the nurse. I think they were actually discussing a potential match? I’m not sure. The nurse gave me the pill (I need to regulate my cycle to match that of the egg recipient) but told me not to take it until they called. This effectively means I wouldn’t start it until around about 30 October, when the next period would be due. THIS means that drugs&stuff would start in November and intensify in December, when the egg retrieval and embryo replacement (can’t actually think of the technical term for this) would be.

THIS is dodgy because the clinic is closed in the week between Christmas and New Year, so if either of my next two periods are late it could push everything back grotesquely and we’d have to try later. The doctor-lady didn’t seem too worried about it, so nor will I.

Am still feeling very very VERY positive about IVF.

Had a ‘moment’ when filling in some egg donation forms. They asked if the first cycle wasn’t succesful and there were frozen embryos, could they continue to treat the egg recipient – or something to that effect. I suddenly thought/felt, If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right. I don’t wish any harm to the woman who will receive my eggs. I am working on being open-hearted enough to hope she has success, though that part is a bit difficult as I am still protective about my eggs.

But she’s been on a waiting list for a long time, I have thousands of eggs I will never use, and I know what it feels like to want a baby. I hope hope hope we get pregnant this first go, but if we don’t I think I’d happily go through another egg donation cycle of IVF.

Cross your fingers, yo-dee-lady-de-who.

Injection, fellas.

September 22, 2008


I think I’m afraid to actually start trying to have this baby. Afraid of how it will mess up work, afraid of wondering when to tell my boss we’re going IVF instead, afraid of how time-crazy I will be about the injections, but mostly..


afraid it won’t work.

It’s coming out of the crapper, take one.

September 22, 2008

Went to the hospital this morning for the longest consultation known to man. The doctor thinks my ‘problem’ is not gynocological in nature; indeed, she thinks I might have IBS.

I’m now stocked up on powdered laxatives and ‘anti-spasmodic’ drugs to take before I eat. I do this little routine for a month and cross my fingers. I have a follow up appointment in three months.

This is still very up-in-the-air, but the nice thing (I suppose) is that some student doctor got to see her first real live cervix today…….mine.

The doctor said I can go ahead with starting IVF for the next cycle. Tomorrow is our IVF consult. All I am waiting on is blood test results. I need to pick some up from my normal doctor’s; if they haven’t all been done, I need to get more blood drawn at a premium rate. Still, these outstanding blood tests are ones with quick results. That means that all going well, I’ll start taking some IVF related drugs next month!

Bring on the baby….and the poop.

September evenings smell so good.

September 20, 2008

Went back to the clinic this week for – drumroll, please – more blood tests. We also had ‘counselling.’ Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve had an intensifying feeling that I really may not be very good at my new job. Still, TMD keeps doing impressions of the counsellor we saw, and I think all I have to do to remember that I don’t suck is realise that at least I’m not OPENING MY MAIL during sessions.

Still, she hooked us up with what will probably be a useful network, told us to sort out our wills, and also showed us a book I really rilly want. It’s called Our Story, or something like that. It’s the story of two moms and their baby/child – how they had to go to the hospital to help get pregnant, etc. It’s not as creepy as Heather Has Two Moms (sorry, I know I am offending all you right on lesbians out there, but I remember that book being fucking WEIRD), and has cute kid-drawn illustrations. I want it, dudettes. Only seven smackaroonies.

The other useful thing the counsellor said was that we are already trying to conceive. In a bizarre way I already feel pregnant, though obviously that hasn’t happened. However, A Good Friend Who May Wish To Remain Anonymous thinks she’s pregnant with the next Jesus, and if that’s true I’m pregnant with Jesus III.

I think the only thing I have any doubts about is donating eggs. Am I not the altruistic kind? In a way, it feels like giving a child up for adoption or something. It’s odd as I have no ethical qualms about using donor sperm; though I do think women tend to be more precious about their eggs. Since our visit to the clinic on Thursday (?), I’ve been googling ‘IVF versus IUI’ a lot, and I am feeling really rock solid about IVF. It is the right choice for us.

There are fears – if IVF doesn’t work, it would feel sort of hope-draining to have to go ‘backwards’ to IUI. But as much as I resist it, I am feeling ridiculously positive and shining about the baby I know IVF will bring us. We’re going to the clinic again next week to have the IVF consult. The only thing hanging over my head is this fucking laparoscopy. The pain in my lower right abdomen is clearly going away, and I am so impatient to cook me up some baby pancakes that I almost don’t want to bother with the surgery. I’ve got the consult for that next Monday.

I’ve been to hospitals/clinics/my doctor more times since July than I have in the ENTIRE time I’ve lived in this country.  (Oh, I’m almost an official citizen! My ceremony is on October 6. Rock on free passport holder!)

Have I ever told you about Daisy and Joey? When we were growing up, my sister liked punching me in the stomach. Fuck knows why. I got around this for a number of years by telling her I had twins growing in me. At one point, another baby called Petunia joined the crew – but it was really Daisy and Joey who ruled the roost.

In a completely crazy, mostly unscientific sort of way, I am convinced we are going to have twins. One in four IVF births does result in multiples, so it’s not too unreasonable to think it might happen to us. I think the whole Daisy and Joey argument is perhaps erring on the side of wack-a-doodle-doo…..but my friend Opposite Gender Soulmate told me he had a dream a few months back that he was looking at pictures of me and TMD on Facebook, and we had twins. While he initially wrote this off due to stalking my profile AND seeing a scary movie about twins (why oh why didn’t I ask the name of it? I wish my wife liked scary movies!), he now says he thinks he ‘saw the faces of our future children.’

He also pointed out that I do like having two of everything (ie ‘one for best’).

Fuck it. If I’m not allowed to be chirpy and charmingly superstitious in my own diary, where can I be?

(I still am having big pooping problems. TMD is not amused.)

PS – The counsellor asked me what my orientation was. My reaction was a quiet astonishment, since I was there with my wife. Turns out she meant my theorectical counselling orientation.

PPS – I had a PPS but wanted to get down the PS first, and now I forgot it. Fuck.

PPPS – Fuck! Thought I remembered it, but then got dissauded by another PS and now I think I’ve forgot that one as well.

PPPPS – YES. Had a dream last night – been dreaming a lot about IVF. Last night we had two perfect embryos ready to be put back in my womb, and it was a boy and a girl. (No, we’re not planning on asking for this information in real life.) This is what TMD would like to happen, and I turned to her in the dream and sort of sigh-talked, ‘It’s just what we wanted!’

PPPPPS – I changed the name of this country’s currency for ‘smackaroonies.’ Am I uber-paraboid or what?