Posts Tagged ‘hormones’

Where I’m at right here, right now.

June 19, 2009

Cookie has sent me some donuts (you expected me to say cookies, didn’t you). I am SO HUNGRY and secretly hoping the donuts have winged their way across the globe in quicktime, because I could probably eat all 16 of them in about 7 minutes. The only issue? How would I answer the fucking door?

I am reading some blogs of people very, very early in twin pregnancy. The horrible part of me is like, ha, wow, you have no idea what’s coming to getcha. Another part of me hopes they aren’t reading my diary and freaking out!

I’ve taken to immediate projectile vomiting as my organs are beyond squashed. Last night getting into the tub, I sort of leaned forward – it was the equivalent of just taking my stomach directly into my bare hands and squeezing after a big meal. Cue chocolate ice cream vomit.

My SPD is a motherfucker as well. Last night while TMD was helping me up off the couch, both my hips just gave out. Felt like they both slid out of socket. I screamed (what MUST the neighbors upstairs think of me?!?) and sort of collapsed – luckily backwards onto the couch. It was quite scary as I could picture myself falling forward, legs spread all screwy, hips fucked, and TMD unable to help. We have agreed that she would just call an ambulance ASAP if that happened, because between the two of us (me the cripple, her the tiny girl) there is no way we could recover from that.

I had a big ol’ weep this morning because it is getting on top of me a bit. I tried to get up off the couch myself this morning, and was very slouched down to get my feet moved over the edge. The next thing I know, I’m like some fat ass turtle who cannot breathe. The babies were pinning me down – so freaking heavy it was unreal, and I could not move or breathe. At this point, I can’t walk, sit up, or change position without help. I am feeling very sorry for myself for having to be home alone, because the simplest things are impossible.

If it gets too cold, I can’t turn off the fan. If I drop something, I cannot pick it up. If I have to pee, I have to take quite a long time to get up, pushing through lots of pain. TMD has suggested that we might call her mum about coming up next week if this doesn’t ease.

I felt like a terrible mother last night (more crying was involved) because I obviously want the babies to stay in as long as possible, but I am ready for the next two months to whiz by. I just could never have anticipated this level of pain and discomfort. I now can’t breathe if I am upright, which is quite a disturbing thing. My reclining position appears to be the best way to stretch out my uterus, give the organs some space, and give my ribs a break. The poor babies probably don’t have much room to move because gravity is sucking them backwards/down, but I’m hoping it isn’t too claustrophobic for them. How are twins not born innately terrified of cramped spaces? I’ll never know.

Felt them a lot yesterday afternoon – particularly Mano – and then nothing really last night. Haven’t had much this morning, so hoping they manage to get some wiggles in. Despite all my hardcore pain (my coxyx…coycx…co… you know what I mean), I fell asleep with the help of a very warm bath about 9:30 pm last night. Of course had my usual pee breaks and things through the night, but slept very hardcore – only woke up when I was on the verge of pissing myself. Got up just before 8 this morning.

I figure I got like nine hours of sleep – this is magnificent. Glorious. Stupendous.

I still feel quite tired. Think I’ve got catching up to do from the hospital! Now I just want to eat, eat, eat and then not make any sudden movements. Ha. I don’t think the donuts are coming today or they would already be here. Maybe tomorrow. Nummy.

Let’s hope this venting works.

May 14, 2009

I am feeling crazy and hateful mean today.

I had a semi-fall earlier, which caused a ripping pain over Torre – think I have pulled or ripped some stomach muscle. This is especially handy as last night I had similar terrible pains on both sides when I was moving around. That, and my crotch feels like it’s been cracked in half and is repeatedly kicked by a Very Big Sporty Man every time I move at all.

So I texted TMD to say I’d hurt my bump, and no fucking reply. For ages. Then she rang and said she had texted back, but had gone into a training and didn’t see that the message didn’t send. I’m like –


Except what I said was, ‘Uh huh,’ in this deadly calm voice. She is coming home soon.

This feeling has been intensifying. I feel very isolated and scared. What if I went into fucking labour? Are you going to send me a text? To be fair, I guess I would keep calling, but really. I know she is very busy, and I know we have so much to do, but life is feeling a bit angry-making. And self-pity making.

Next week the fucking decorator will be painting all day every day. What the fuck air am I supposed to breathe? If I give birth to babies that are Contemporary coloured, with an Eggshell Sheen round the edges, I am going to be seriously pissed.

I just want to cry and cry and cry to someone who understands what it is like to be pregnant and all the fuck alone. And then I want to write really mean screamy blog entries and hope that TMD reads them. I tried to not go mental at her because she is a bigshot manager at work and was obviously surrounded by employees when we were talking. But you know? I am sick of being mature, because, GODDAMNIT, I AM PREGNANT WITH HER BABIES.


My back hurts every time I sit upright for more than ten seconds. I don’t think I can go into work to pack up my desk because the car ride would kill me, I am worried about being out all day for that multiples antenatal class, I am freaked about the amount of work TMD already had planned for herself this weekend – and now she has to pack up the 8,000 books and assorted piles of bullshit crap we have in the three rooms being redone. When is there any time to just have fun?

I am so tired all the time. And I hurt. And I’m alone.

And now I’m crying.

15 weeks pregnant lesbian couple. Alert! Call the media!

March 3, 2009

We’re 15 weeks pregnant today. That seems a little crazy, because if we deliver at 38 weeks we are rapidly approaching the halfway mark of pregnancy. My stomach is fiercely tight, my boobs finally having a second growth surge, and – dare I say it – I might be feeling a little better?

Still vomiting a bit in spite of medication, but am trying to cut down on meds. I have had two mornings in a row where I didn’t almost fall over from The Dizzies when I woke up. I am drinking mouthfuls of water throughout the night without any terrible consequences.

I’m now on half days at work – a trial period of two weeks. It can be hoped that this will allow my body and mind some time to stabilise from the first trimester baddies who are lingering, my endless chest cold, etc. I know I am truly geeked at the idea of a week without work-induced  migraines, excessive vomiting, crying in the consulting room, etc.

Tears seem to be becoming a major part of my life, but it almost feels good to cry. Like my hormones have given me that little boost to be able to fully express emotion without societal niceties cramping my style. Of course, when I started crying during a maternity fashion show and repeating, ‘I can’t do this, I can’t do this, what are we doing?’ people around me probably thought I was loony tunes…..and so what if I am?!? It’s two babies, damnit.

Had a sort of scary week as didn’t feel either one move Sunday or most of yesterday. Think we got some definite movement last night to TMD rubbing oil on my belly and me pushing her hand quite firmly against the babies. They usually do wake up a bit after some tummy oiling. On the train I also poked Mano and he kicked back. Torre is a bit harder to get moving, and I don’t know if that is because of the placenta’s location, or because he/she is just a placid baby.

Had a dream two nights ago that we had two babies – a bot and a girl. HOLY typo – a bot?!? Jesus, I hope we don’t have a robot child. A BOY and a girl. I’m getting increasingly ansty for the 20 week scan, because if the babies cooperate we’ll find out what they are and get to see them again!

I am considering buying a doppler so if I have more scary ‘why aren’t they moving’ moments I can be reassured. (A doppler is like a wand you place outside your stomach, and with some skill and luck you can hear the baby’s heartbeat.) I think the cheap ones are probably crap, and I don’t know if I can justify getting an expensive one. I wish one of you lived nearby and I could just borrow the sucker for a day!

Finally, all feel free to go to and vote on the lesbian IVF question. I never ever do these things, but got upset on the train that this was a topic worth even polling about. Of COURSE TMD should be listed as a second parent on the birth certificate. Now we have to go through all the hassle of legal hoops and paperwork to jump through to make sure that if something terrible happened to me during childbirth, she could have some rights. And then she’ll have to adopt her own children at six months. Madness.

I think all these right wing nutcases should spend a week with us. Our life is so amazingly normal. No lesbian devil horns sprouting, no cloven feet, no abnormal and cruel, twisted behaviour. (No more than usual, anyway.) We have an almost impossibly happy marriage, a deep love, huge commitment, and a lot of fun. How dare people insinuate we should not have children.

Down with The Man!

Rapid fire.

February 20, 2009

So much has happened and I’ve either been too busy or too ill to get to a computer. Hopefully will muster some motivation this weekend to write about the scan, as I want to remember it!

The breakdown: Tuesday morning had a nervous breakdown because the midwives called to say they couldn’t see me after the scan. A range of crazy phone calls ensued, and I just sobbed (as per my usual, lately).

Had the scan – still two babies in there. One (Baby B) moved during the scan and that was incredible. Both babies are baby-shaped now, which is very science fictiony and inspiring. Was offered a screening scan on this upcoming Monday (had to see the midwives to sort it – HA, try to deny me an appointment) and it threw up all sorts of issues for TMD and me. More on that later.

Was talk about admitting me to hospital for dehydration. Had emergency appointment with a different doctor (thank GOD), and was given some medication to prevent vomiting. It appears to function mainly as a laxative, as far as I can see. Still, have not vomited ONCE since I started taking them (yesterday). Having some nausea on and off, which is disappointing, but the no vomit thing makes up for it.

Had physio today. Booked in for more next Friday afternoon. I think this means I won’t really be able to come in to work at all next Friday, as I’m seeing my consultant and midwife for the first time that morning – and it’s a super-long appointment (finally).

Wednesday was massively sick at work, culminating in me being unable to stop crying as I locked myself into a consulting room at work. Didn’t go in yesterday as spent all Wednesday evening vomiting, and woke up yesterday with my first ever migraine. Everyone I have spoken to has a theory about what causes migraines.

Back at work today. Totally tired out and ready for the weekend. I miss TMD and feel like I never see her, except for these short and sweet glimpses in the mornings. Keep telling people I no longer feel like I can work. That’s a whole other story.

Okay. More later.

Oh! Hopefully this weekend we will also get the scan pictures put on CD or something so you can all see our baby-shaped babies.

Ten points for me.

December 13, 2008

Today’s been innnnteresting. This ‘morning’ featured me getting into a blind rage regarding food. I’d just had some toast and juice, and then was ragingly hungry. Poor TMD was trying to sort things out, while I’m screaming at her in a growling sort of way.

The next thing I know, I am howling and crying. Not normal crying. Like screaming crying. Drawing in a big lungful of air, then screaming it out, tears flying everywhere. It took a long time for me to stop crying.

My ass has woken from its 30 hour coma as well. I’ve pooped more times than you would care to imagine today. It feels just like it did after the egg collection – it actually hurts to sit upright. Like I have a giant limb up my ass.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, we are going to put up the Christmas tree!

I did ask the nurse if the meds would make me crazy. She just laughed.

November 20, 2008

I sort of keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ve read/heard all this stuff about IVF and how hardcore it was. To be honest, my impressions before it all started was that it would be pretty hardcore.

But I’ve been injecting myself for 13 days now (seems longer than that, don’t know if I counted correctly), for a total of 14 shots. And, frankly, it doesn’t seem that hardcore. Maybe this is how people who do things because they have to do them feel. Other people think they’re all inspiring and heroic, but actually it’s just life.

I took my first shot of the superovulatory meds last night (also known as ‘stims’ or ‘stimming’ in some circles). The needle was AWESOME. That puppy was so thin it was practically bendy. Slid right in without any sensation at all – very different to the syringe needle I use for the other shot. I was very scared about injecting the meds – I find if anything hurts, it’s the meds entering my body.

It’s all the little things I am unsure of – how hard I’ll have to push to get it moving, if it will hurt, etc etc. The fear of the unknown. I gingerly pushed yesterday and it didn’t budge, so I instantly handed the reins over to TMD. She pushed in, no problem. It made very bizarre clicking noises as it was compressed and measured the medication. It also apparently twirled under her finger.

The upshot is that I didn’t even feel the meds go in. This is like heaven, people, because while the other shot isn’t exactly painful it’s also not a relaxing massage. I am very relaxed about New Shot as thin needles + pain-free injection = good times. It felt very awkward after I’d injected. Again, not painful, but sort of like a heavy bruised feeling. I can actually feel it right now, which I think is probably psychosomatic, but who knows.

The IVF nurse said that everyone reacts differently to these hormones, but that I could probably expect headaches and breast tenderness. Seeing as I’ve had a headache every day since starting the shots, I’ve already got a big tick mark next to that.

Do any IVF people know at what point my uterine lining begins to build back up? I don’t know if it happens in conjunction with the eggs developing, or not until I start the progesterone.

I’m also a little worried as my luteal phase (the time from ovulation until you get your period) has never been the longest, and we are starting things late into my cycle (yesterday was Day 5). I know things are different than a normal cycle because my body is being taken over by science and all, but I just think of these sorts of things.

Like yesterday. My new medication has to be refrigerated. They gave me a cool bag – it can ‘survive’ in there for 5/6 hours. When I  was on my way to work, I wondered about Mr. Cool. If he is meant to insulate and keep cool inside, does that mean his lining would keep the cold out? I called Aussie and she agreed with me. Therefore when I stuck Mr. Cool in the fridge at work, I unzipped him slightly to let the cold air in.

I know, I’m crazy.

Inject baby, inject baby, one two three four.

November 11, 2008

A nice nursie from the clinic called to tell me that the results of my second batch of tests have come back and everything is fine. I could have told them that.

I asked her about the scan – she ended up getting really confused as the scan is supposed to be the second day of my period, and this scan isn’t booked till after my period is over. She ended up calling the main nurse, who confirmed that regardless of when I get my period, my first scan will be the 19th.

Now, I don’t understand the reasoning for this. But I do feel better for having had it clarified that this was an intentional scheduling thing and not a random accident. I also asked if I would be oversupressed from taking the meds that many more days, and she said it wouldn’t be a problem.

Injections are still hurting. Not the needles, but the meds going in. Really only hurts while it’s happening, with a couple of minutes of uncomfortableness afterwards. Not that bad. I’ve discovered that making a continuous owl hooting sound whild depressing the plunger seems to help. I swear.

We also have not bothered to try to bead the meds on the tip of the needle. My mom said the amount of air in the needle is microscopic and nothing to worry about. After that first day’s disaster, I requested that we practice. This meant that TMD had to wrestle with our SHARPS container to try to get the dirty needle out.

I filled the bathroom sink with water, and we proceeding to take turns sucking up water and trying to just ‘bead’ it rather than shoot it across the room. You know when your life revolves around playing with dirty needles that you are moving up in the world.

Other than that, the only thing you guys don’t know is that I was crying milk the day after the first injection. I was feeling weepy that day (a psychosomatic thing, since the other injections have not really affected me at all – touch wood), and TMD hugged me. While I was lapping up being comforted, she pulled away in horror and said, ‘Your tears are milk!’

She was right. I had milk tears – little white drops rolling down my face.I don’t know what this is about, but I’m tempted to say it’s some sort of miracle and I’ll be getting sainthood any day now.

Injectionally yours,


Yesterday – Day 1 of IVF treatment.

November 8, 2008

The whole thing was anti-climactic. The needle was nothing, I couldn’t even feel it going into my skin. But perhaps I’ll rewind and tell this tale a little slower, for any girlies out there about to embark on IVF.

This appointment was the one for me to start taking the injections to ‘turn off’ my natural hormones. This needs to happen so the clinic can control every step of my cycle. I was also told I would learn more about the treatment schedule.

TMD and I arrived in very good time.

We live somewhere with nationalised health service, and this clinic is different as it’s private. It’s also on themost exclusive street in the country, medically-wise. What does that mean? Chandeliers, marble staircases, and being treated like you are fucking royalty. This initially freaked me out (last spring, when we went to an information session on IUI), but I was quickly put at ease by how friendly everyone was.

TMD and I arrived in very good time and settled onto our usual couch (the big, squishy leather one next to the fancy fridges offering different types of bottled water – and a coffee/tea machine that would probably put the rest of the world to shame). I always take a non-sparkling water when I go there, whether I am thirsty or not. We are paying so much money for IVF that I figure I want to get every cents worth.

(Have you seen Friends when Ross goes to the hotel? Yeah, that’s me.)

Yesterday in the lovely giant tree thing next to ‘our’ couch, there were little stuffed monkeys wearing t shirts emblazoned with the clinic’s logo. This sounds cheap and tasteless, but it was fucking awesome. I seriously considering swiping one, then figured that karmically it probably wasn’t a good thing to attempt to steal from a clinic that was going to (fingers crossed) get me pregnant.

Give me time, though. TMD has said when we are preggo we’ll ask to buy one. My momma didn’t raise me to offer to buy things. She raised me to shove them in my purse. Oh, well.

So. The eggsharing nurse/head nurse called us in to her office.  I heard her tell another nurse we wouldn’t be in there long – which was a bit shocking. I don’t know what I expected. A three hour marathon?

She launched right in to describing this first medication, and patted a goody bag that was mine to take home. Yes, I’m now the proud owner of this medication, a shitload of needles/syringes, alcohol wipes, and my own mini SHARPS container. I love that fucking container, man. I want to use it as a desk trash can or something. (Perhaps this links in with how awesome I thought the stuffed monkeys were? Who can tell.)

She then said we would be doing the first injection in the office. She prepared it, talking us through every step of the way. Pushing the needle into the bottle, pulling back to fill the syringe, then pushing some meds back in until the plunger was exactly at the 50 line. (50 what, I don’t know. MLs?) Taking the needle out of the bottle, flicking it very hard to get rid of air, then very gently pushing forward until a drop of fluid came out the end.

She also talked about not worrying too much about very small bubbles, as this was being injected into fatty tissue so there were no terrible health risks involved. She also said something about the needle using ‘positive pressure’ – fuck only knew what that was about, as I was so focused on knowing I was about to shove a needle in my stomach.

When I was little, I was terrified of shots. My mother is a nurse. Once, when I refused to have my tetanus vaccine at age 12, I woke up in the middle of the night to find that my arm was tied with a rubber thing, my mother standing over me with a needle. Fuck a duck, man, no kid wants to wake up that way.

When I went to camp/university for the first time, I had to have about 100 immunisations and things, and since that point I’ve not minded needles. Couple that with about 432532 people treating me after my breast reduction, and you’ll find I have no shame about anything, even dildo-cam ultrasounds when I am bleeding.

But while I’m okay with needles, I’m not okay with actually looking at them. Gross-o,  man.

The nurse asked who should do it – myself or TMD. I think we both knew I needed to, otherwise I would build some big emotional block and never be able to do it again. The nurse offered to literally hold my hand, and I was like, ‘Uh, no. I can quite readily inflict this agony on myself.’

She talked me through every step. The first one was just pinching some of my stomach, just to the side of my belly button. Easy enough. Then I had to put the needle against my skin. Again, simple. Then I had to push it in all the way until the needle wasn’t visible any more. These needles are maybe just over a centimetre long? I’m not sure. I was semi-blind at this point.

The nurse reminded me I needed to look! She also mentioned that leaning back would make it easier.

So…I just pushed the needle into my skin like it was something I did every day. The first words I said once it was in were, ‘Oh! That was nothing.  I didn’t even feel it!’

I then had to depress the plunger and push the meds in (like putting a tampon in, except radically different). I could not push that fucking thing down. It was like pushing a brick wall with your finger and expecting it to move. The nurse said it was be easier if I used my thumb, but I felt committed to my finger. I literally had to use every ounce of strength in my pointer finger to do it. It felt a bit odd going in (did it, or am I making that up?), but again fine. Like some sort of moron, I then said, ‘What do I do now? Take it out?’

Because the only other option is leaving that needle connected to my stomach, and you know that’s a good look. The nurse encouraged me to whip it out faster.

Again, I was saying the same thing over and over about not having felt anything.

She then said my first scan would be on the 20th and offered to book it in now if I wanted the first slot. As I opened up my mouth to reply, that’s when I felt it. It. IT.

‘Uh, it feels funny.  It’s …stinging.  When does it stop stinging?’

The answer, my friends, was a good couple of hours later. It was not a bad pain, but rather a more tender sort of thing – and unexpected. It felt like I’d been stung by a wasp – but not the immediate pain, the sort of lingering stinging in the area afterwards. Nothing bad, though I was hyperaware of it.

Anyway, she offered us the scan on the 19th instead, but that’s the day we have to take Mom back to the airport and that’s just too much. This scan will be to make sure my endometrial layer is completely gone and I’m an IVF blank canvas. I will be learning how to use the next lot of medication, going through and double-checking all the paperwork, etc.

The nurse also booked in EVERY SINGLE SCAN. I got everything at 8:15 or 8:30, so it shouldn’t affect work at all. If anything, I’ll be in early. *touch wood* It’s a weight off my mind to know it’s all set. She also said, ‘Hmm, we can book you in for the last scan on the 1 December, though we can always cancel that.’

I asked if she meant we’d cancel because of the egg retrieval. Like it was no big thang, she nodded and said, ‘Yes, I think we’ll actually being doing your egg retrieval that day, but I can confirm that the Friday before.’ What?!?! Babyville. So if all goes according to her master plan, the first week in December is officially Make A Baby week.

She also said the woman I am donating eggs to is super excited. I said, ‘I know this is anonymous and everything, but can you tell her I’m excited for her?  I really hope this works for both of us.’ The nurse said I could tell her myself, if I wanted. She said many women write cards or letters, and the clinic can then anonymously pass them on to the other woman involved. I think we may do this. I know I would like one from her, just acknowledging what a big thing I’m helping her with. Don’t get me wrong, this woman is paying for the bulk of my treatment. It’s win-win for both of us, especially if babies result.

Trying to remember anything else significant. I think the nurse thought I was a little bit on crack, because I was asking all these questions and using medical terminology. TMD explained that I’d read everything on IVF I could find, and I said that, in fact, they should probably offer me a job at the clinic when this is all done. This clinic takes the approach of trying to take all the stress off the woman – and this is true of IUI as well. They kind of tell you what to do, etc, and don’t ‘overburden’ you with the medical stuff.

I’m the kind of person who does better when I know more, and she was adept and friendly when answering all my questions. On this med, I can still exercise (‘What a relief for you, as you love exercise so much,’ TMD said.), take my inhalers, have normal life. The only admonishment was to stay away from alcohol and to take folic acid. I said I’d been doing both those things for months, and the nurse laughed and said, ‘Excellent. You’re a boring person – the perfect candidate for a healthy treatment and pregnancy.’

I am taking folic acid mixed into a prenatal vitamin, and the nurse said that’s groovy. I also said I was tkaing Omega-3, and she didn’t seem so keen on that. She said I didn’t need to take it. Anyone out there – pregnant or trying – who knows anything about this??

She also said I needed to be retested for HIV, Hep B, Hep B Core, and Hep C as I was donating. While I can do all these free, it’s a motherfucking hassle so I just coughed up the 110.00 and had it done there. Lounging in a comfortable chair on two hundred year old carpet. Mmm.

I got into a bit of a crazy kerfuffle with the receptionist regarding fees. You see, we pay for ICSI (more later), a licensing fee, and the donor sperm. As an egg donor, I do not pay for scans, medications, IVF treatment, etc. This saves us about 5,000 per month. I KNOW. Expensive shit.

We then went to McDonald’s for a healthy dinner, all the while I kept obsessing about the stinging in the injection site. TMD said, ‘You know when you had that cyst out and the stiches hurt you for two weeks? They would have hurt a normal person for about two days. This means that of COURSE you are still stinging.’ She’s probably right.

We also went across the street to a baby store that is so expensive the choice is really whether to buy a couple of sweaters and a crib or put your child through the education system. It was…interesting.

I was weirded out by how non-weird I felt. Anti-climactic, like I say. I was also surprised to see that I was keenly looking forward to 8:30 pm tonight, when I get to give myself another shot. Not sure what’s wrong with me there, but you know.

Day 2 is today. I woke up at the crack of dawn to have an ass explosion (I’m still stressed about what happened at work – damn this situation for making me so tired and taking some of the joy out of yesterday) and never went back to bed. I feel like I’ve run a marathon – except I’ve never actually experienced that so this is a rough approximation. Completely worn out and very tearful.

TMD took Marmite to the vet and came home to make me lunch. I was miserably curled up on the couch, wishing I was asleep, and watching a tv show about home births. I had about an hour of constant crying and moaning about how tired I was. No clue if this is a side effect or not, though I suspect not.

My grand plans for today included being dropped in town for a massive writing session, but it’s all I can do to stay awake. Plus this entry is about 2,500 words, so that’s nice. It’s not part of the novel, but it could be something our future child reads with interest.

Oh – the only thing I forgot to mention is that the nurse said the intramuscular injections hurt pretty fucking bad. I think that’s just the HCG trigger shot, am I right? I’m fairly sure the next lot of injections are still tummy ones.

Ah. One more thing I forgot to mention. I asked about the sperm donor and wanted to make sure the clinic had our physical characteristics and requests on file. She took my email address and said she will ask the Sperm Department to be in touch before the scan. So we’re going to be picking out a frozen baby daddy sometime in the next week or so.


No need to continue reading, this lot is for me.

I am a bit freaked out as TMD has an interview scheduled the morning of the first scan, and I feel like I don’t want to go alone to learn about the new meds. She is going to try to shift this, otherwise I suppose I’ll be a grownup and go alone.

I am still freaking out about that fucking driving test. Def going to phone on Monday and push it back to January. I don’t want it at all, really, but TMD keeps saying that I need one to get round to appointments.

The morning of the scan, I have a VERY big first couples counselling session a work. I don’t know about the clients yet, but apparently it’s quite complex. It would be terrible to be late. I sort of wish I just  had the next two months off work.

Crap – another thing I forgot but don’t want to add to the bulk of the entry as I already realise I look crazy – I was woken up this morning from a dream that I had wiped the medication with the alcohol, cracked open a needle, and then realised it was 8:30 am rather than pm. My dream self was less worried about this overdosing close call than the fact that it would mean I was one needle and alcohol pad short. CRAZY.

One more thing. Silly me.

Nursey also said it’s very important to have a positive mental attitude. If anything, I think my own risk comes from having TOO positive an attitude. Talked to my mother on the phone last night who lost no time in pointing out what a huge disappointment this would be if it didn’t work.


And thus, Monday ends.

November 3, 2008

6341 / 50000 words. 13% done!

That’s my Day 3 word count for NaNoWriMo. I don’t know if I’ll write any more this evening, but suspect that after doing the washing up (at TMD’s request, she’s out tonight), I could fancy a hot bath and a good read.

I know hot baths are a no-no where babies are concerned, but I’m not sure where that no-no begins.  I assume not now, as I am gulping down tiny little pills that are fucking me up. Man, do I feel nauseous. Hardcore. It’s always worse in the evening, I have no clue why. Perhaps because the tiny little nuisance has had time to worm its way into my system?

Who knows. (If you do, let me know.)

I felt like a hot bath awhile ago, actually, and then I just kept typing and typing. Not sure what I’m in the mood for now, except filling in dates… I bought a gorgeous 2009 planner/diary, much to TMD’s despair. She mocks me endlessly with such gems as, ‘Well, it’s only November.  I’m sure you will purchase another 3 or 4 diaries before the new year.’

And you know, she might be right – despite the fact that I’m currently using an 18 month diary which covers the entire year of 2009. Can I help it if I have a weakness for office supply stores, and in particular beautiful planners? This one has a (fake) leather cover, with a deep floral pattern pushed into it. It’s a day-to-view, and it just flops open so nicely.

I don’t know if a day-to-view can actually enter my world, as I do like to see the whole week at a glance. But I saw this diary and just knew – it was love at first sight. Part of me thinks it might be a nice way to record a progressing pregnancy….

I know that we’re going out with Mom after I start the shots – I am already wondering what this means in terms of the injection. We’ll be out of the house during the time I would normally take them. I’m crazy enough to wonder if I should move the shots to first thing in the morning.

I don’t know if you are ‘supposed’ to do them at a certain time of day. I just know that most people do them in the evenings.

I actually frozen in front of the fridge today, planning out how I could get the meds to the folk club if they had to be refrigerated. I wish the YMCA song could be sung to different letters – CRAZY, perhaps?

Ugh. I feel so fricking nauseous.

I’m in training all day tomorrow. No nanoing and no blogging. Still, by the time most of you are up and at ’em in the world, I’ll probably already be home. Ha.

No flair for this entry as I’m in Firefox. While it kicks Explorer’s ass in every other way, it falls deficient in terms of letting me copy and paste flair into entries. I think this might require a strongly worded letter. I just may be all typed out today, though.

Much love!

Have another tissue, sniffy.

November 3, 2008

Home sick again. Actually got all dressed and out the door before almost having a crying fit on the way to the train – felt really hot, couldn’t stop sneezing, had a headache coming on. Felt all antsy as TMD pointed out this morning that staying home is not fabulous for my emotional well-being, and she also said that I’m likely to be feeling like shit in a few weeks when the IVF properly starts. So like, save up your time off because you’re really going to need it soon.

I am just. so. tired. Wiped out. Exhausted.

It’s rare I actually get sick sick, so this is new. Part of me wonders if I’ve ‘made’ myself sick so I can stay home and write the book. The only problem with that theory is that I’m so tired keeping my eyes open is a difficulty. ….whine, whine, whine.

Chatted with Aussie this morning; she made me feel better. As Aussie says, I’m quite stressed by the whole IVF thing already. And if staying home today helps me, then so be it. She made a point of saying that my mental health is at least as important as my physical health – and that I should do my best to feel rested and well before the injections begin on Friday.

I’m a wee bit worried as I don’t think I’m reacting all that well to the birth control pill. I hope the IVF drugs don’t turn me into a monster. At this point, though, it would be a relief to just feel like shit emotionally. Not to say I don’t find that difficult; of course I do. But at least I could say that a lot of my feelings were being amplified by the medication, and there is a quiet sort of happiness in that. While I might be a raging, tearful, snotty mess, I’ll be a mess who is trying to have a baby.


Be prepared to hear a lot from me today….if I can stay awake long enough to type, that is.