Nuts ‘N Bolts

I had a hard time sleeping last night–Mr. MLACS snoring next to me (God bless him) and Kitty was just all over me and way cuddlier than usual–he actually slept with me ALL night! Which got me thinking…my boobs are like Pam Anderson big right now…I’m hot at night (whereas I’m usually always freezing)…I’m exhausted down to my bones…Kitty only pays this much attention to me when…so, maybe…

NO. No I’m NOT PREGNANT. Tested this morning at 12dpo with a FRER and…no, not a bit.

But, I took comfort in the fact that I have $3,000 worth of drugs chillin’ in my fridge. 3 Gonal-f 900iu pens. I’m all “Take that ovaries!” POW!

Must say, it killed my buzz a little when I realized that–since I’m doing this cycle with Dr. Diet and not Dr. Angel–I will be expected to inject myself and I’m not too keen on that. Mr. MLACS won’t be around so he’s not an option. Kitty doesn’t have opposable thumbs. That leaves moi.

Now, I’m waiting for AF to start, so I can do my baseline ultrasound and begin this next cycle. Dr. Diet’s nurse, Nurse Cutie, has been a complete gem and informed me that Dr. Diet intends to start me at 225iu of Gonal. THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ BOUT. Show those ovaries we mean business.

Also, she informed me that my recent blood tests came back “normal”: I have a normal Karyotype (which means I am chromosomally normal), my Beta integrin test came back negative, as did some other test. The only revelation was that my testosterone is “high normal” and I already knew that as it is very apparent (to me) in how I look, act, and feel. I would say I am ‘androgynous’ in many ways.

I’m SO HAPPY that Mr. MLACS is home! Yay! I really missed that guy. Too bad I only have him until next Wednesday. Also too bad that my sex drive is…well lets say my “engine is not revved”. Mr. MLACS is not being pushy but I’m sure he’s disappointed. I will make an effort.

He had blood drawn yesterday to check for ‘communicable diseases’–I appreciate my doctor’s diligence because, sadly, many men who travel for work DO have extramarital sex. But Mr. MLACS wouldn’t. And if he did (he really won’t) he wouldn’t be irresponsible. He is really really smart. So, those results will be negative. And the next order of business is to collect his “spawn” before he leaves. **He actually told me that there are Ethiopian “cleaning ladies” where he stays but they double as prostitutes–who will only have anal sex because they are Muslim and will not be penetrated vaginally by non-Muslim men. Mr. MLACS says they call one guy ‘Barnacle Bill’ because he got some weird penile infection from one of these women as he did not use a condom. Mr. MLACS is a real ‘Boy Scout’ and wouldn’t lower himself to be unfaithful. And he sure as hell wouldn’t touch a sex slave from a third world country. He won’t even let them clean his room.**

That’s about all folks. I have told a couple of my high school buddies that I’ve recently reconnected with about our troubles getting (moreover staying) pregnant. I am hosting my first book club tomorrow and I’m the only childless one AND I have no job so I’m not sure what I’ll say when they ask “So what do you DO?” The truth would be “A LOT of doctors appointments, injections, and trying to stay sane and preoccupied during the TWW…Then…a lot of crying and self-soothing when sh*t doesn’t work out…rinse and repeat…” That’s my life in nutshell. Throw in some dinners and spin classes and that’s a pretty accurate representation.

Speaking of spin class, Mr. MLACS says that I’ve lost weight. I can’t tell. But I have been putting a lot of effort into working out and eating well. Except last night we BBQ’d and I made this AWESOME fruit dip and served it with strawberries (washed, stems on–easier for dipping). It’s SO EASY: 1 container cool whip+ an 8 oz package of cream cheese + 1 tsp vanilla extract + 1/2 cup powdered sugar. Mix it up, plop it in a bowl next to the strawberries, and watch the feeding frenzy unfold!

XOXO,

MLACS

 

 

 

Musical Chairs (the perspective of an unpregnant infertile)

So, since I started this blog to talk about my thoughts and *feelings* I’m gonna go ahead and comment on how it feels to be one of the “unchosen” ones–inevitably everybody can’t win–and this is what it’s like to be an infertile blogger when most all of your IF and RPL sisters are “winning” and you’re “losing”. I know I’m not the only one struggling with this.

An analogy:

Musical Chairs

Not being pregnant when EVERYBODY else is pregnant (at least, almost all the bloggers I started following when I started this blog) is like losing a high-stakes game of musical chairs.

IT FEELS LIKE WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF CHAIRS.

With each new pregnancy announcement, my chest tightens and a knot forms in my throat–I feel as though the chair has been snatched out from under me.

“I may not make it to the next round”–this is a horrifying thought that smacks you in the face when you are an infertility blogger and every other blogger is pregnant–it is f*cking scary. You think “Maybe this really isn’t gonna happen for me”. It’s scarier than a bunch of pregnancy announcements on facespace….

Sh*t is getting REAL here, chairs are disappearing left and right.

Cast Away

Another analogy: A deserted island

It feels like all your friends are getting “rescued” off the island but you are stuck there…with “Wilson”…

And another analogy:

It’s like “Red Rover”–when you were the LAST person standing and everybody else had been “sent over”. You feel left out.

Left Out

Yeah. That about covers it.

XOXO,

MLACS

Random-ish-ness

Ok, this just happened twice in a row, that I’ve lost my blog post–I want to throttle WordPress right now. Like, I want to walk you like a dog WordPress. You *&^%$#.

So instead of the clever and witty posts I already wrote, you get this:

Item #1
I got my ears re-pierced today! I begged my Mother and she allowed me to get them pierced at the mall when I was 7 years old (back in ’86, when Madonna ruled and there was no such thing as automatic car locks…did we even wear seatbelts? Never correctly…I digress). I did this on a whim–didn’t even tell Mr. MLACS before I went! I happen to know the best piercer in town, so I went to a legit piercing studio (not Claire’s in the mall) and it hardly hurt at all! My ears aren’t even sore or inflamed at all. Mr. MLACS was stoked when I told him I had it done and he said “I can’t wait to buy you earrings!”–how cute is that?! And guess what?! YOU CAN’T GET YOUR EARS PIERCED WHEN YOU’RE PREGNANT.

Item #2
I went 10 rounds, AGAIN, with CVS Caremark (our prescription insurance) these past couple of days. I went so far as to call Mr. MLACS’s benefits coordinators and let them know that CVS Caremark is not just bad–they are the devil–and I will continue to lobby against them every time they screw up, regardless of how much time I have to spend on hold. And I don’t care how polite they are to me–they can never answer me WHY they make these mistakes, and they have never assured me that it wouldn’t happen again. So they can suck my proverbial d*ck. And while I was on the phone with this CVS rep (who my benefits coordinator called, who is supposed to ‘smooth things over’) I got a ‘beep’ for a call from Dr. Diet’s office, so I told this rep I’d call her back. I didn’t call her back. Why should I? So she can apologize again and listen to me b*tch at her? Pointless. Which brings us to…

Item #3
I called Dr. Diet’s office first thing after a night of nail-biting and sending neurotic emails (sorry A Calm Persistence, I know I’m a handful sometimes). I had decided that I just couldn’t fathom getting on birth control to manipulate my cycle to match Mr. MLACS’s work schedule. I had two short cycles (shortened LP) because my body was fighting to get back to it’s “regularly scheduled programming” after months and months of drugs. I don’t want to screw it up again–there must be a reason for it. Also, what if I do these birth control pills and all I have to show for it is a f*cked up menstrual cycle? How would this impact my ability to do another cycle–I bet we couldn’t do back-to-back cycles? Here’s what I think: I *think* I have the mental and emotional capacity to do maybe 2 more frozen IUI cycles (with Mr. MLACS’s frozen “spawn” while he’s away for work), but I think I would Lose. My. Marbles. if I did the birth control and the cycle failed, and I don’t think I’d tolerate it well at all–what’s left of my sanity (and there ain’t much) would incinerate and I would watch it leave my body in a pouf of smoke…(can you get a visual on that?) So, frozen it is (is there a technical term for doing an IUI with frozen sperm, besides “donor cycle”, cuz that doesn’t fit the description per se?)

We will get moving on it next week when Mr. MLACS returns to the states. I’m really glad to have a plan. Also, this was my first time communicating with Dr. Diet’s nurse, who will henceforth be referred to as “Nurse Cutie”, cuz she’s adorable–but sharp–and I’m pretty sure I like her.

Item #4
Also, I’ve already been to spinning class twice this week and will go again in the morning, so mission accomplished on the fitness front. My eating has not been perfect (tortilla chips anyone?) but I’ve haven’t been eating a whole bunch of carbs at once and I haven’t been eating any sugary stuff. I don’t have a scale at my house (I don’t really believe in weight so much as how you feel and how your clothes fit) but I’m inspired to work extra hard in the next week or so until my baseline ultrasound at Dr. Diet’s office, because I want to see that scale move to the left.

And finally, I’ve been listening to Reggae all day–I like a lot of music but I love Reggae. Though, I don’t smoke pot (anymore)–it’s uplifting. This is a random fact.

Have a great weekend ladies–much love.

XOXO,

MLACS

Hey Yo! Some stuff…

So it was our 2nd wedding anniversary the other day (note: I said wedding anniversary–to be distinguished from our marriage anniversary in September) and Mr. MLACS had this luscious tropical forest delivered to me! It reminds me of our Hawaiian wedding, and it reminds me that I married Mr. Right! *Swoon* These flowers are so grand and over-the-top, they made me blush. One caveat: the cat hopped up on the kitchen island (smart little sh*t only does this when we are not home or at night when I’m in bed–he totally knows better) and he ate some of the flowers–want to know how I know that he ate some of the flowers?? Because I came home today after spinning class to a giant pile of barf–and there was a twisty-tie and flower petals in there, and I’m like “WTH dude, do you think you are a dog or something?! Cats aren’t supposed to eat found objects!” And I’ve had flowers before and he didn’t eat them. *Sigh* He’s fine. The flowers are fine. Mr. MLACS has suggested we grow some ‘cat grass’, to which I replied “Great! That can be YOUR project when you come home!” *Smirking*

2nd Anniversary Tropical Forest

So, I came home from the RE a.k.a. “Dr. Diet” (Not Dr. Hope, sorry, he’s nice but he’s not sweet and Dr. Hope doesn’t quit fit the bill here–so henceforth the RE is Dr. Diet) and I was all stressed and worried about what to eat, yada yada. And I decided to do NO CARBS and that lasted all of 2.5 days…because I went to Easter Brunch with my sister and she brought me this giant basket of chocolate Easter candy–the good sh*t, like Cadbury eggs, Reese’s pb eggs, Milky Ways, etcetera. And I felt all hardcore eating my steak and eggs (hold the potatoes!) while I watched everyone else indulge in Tiramisu French Toast and Breakfast Monte Cristo–I was immune to this parade of “food porn”. And then my girlfriend and I went on a 2 hour walk/hike and that really tuckered me out. And I went home and was like “Uh, what do I eat now?” (I had nothing prepared and I was not interested in another chicken salad) and I postponed eating until…oh…around midnight…and I looked at that Easter basket…and I ate 2 Cadbury eggs. Ok, if I’m being honest I also ate a mini white chocolate pb egg. And then I hated myself and felt like a schmuck. Sound familiar? Don’t act like you haven’t done it.

But I woke up the next day and climbed “back on the wagon”–cuz that’s what you do–quitters never win and winners never quit–you gotta shake it off and get back on that proverbial horse. My pep talk to myself and anybody else who needs it:

“Remember that guilt you felt about eating those Cadbury eggs? Are you disappointed and frustrated that you did that? Good. Was that 5 minutes of sugary satisfaction worth the resulting days of self loathing? No?! Ok, then go get ’em tiger!”

Rawr.

So here’s one of the good and nutritious things I’ve made: steak and mushrooms. Did you know that mushrooms have a lot of Vitamin D?! I didn’t know that (it said so on the package–thanks for the education Monsanto). Did you know that most women with fertility issues are deficient in Vitamin D (some 78% of women with IF)?! So go eat some mushrooms. And steak. You’re welcome.

Steak n Mushrooms

I’ve added some carbs back to my routine, realizing that ‘no carbs’ is not going to work for me, plus it’s unnecessary as long as you eat the right carbs in the right amounts. Plus–I dunno if Dr. Diet knows this–but one of the reason bodybuilders like super high fat/low carb diets is because it increases testosterone naturally (thus helping in the quest to add muscle, because testosterone is great for that–which is one of the reasons I am built like a brick sh*thouse–PCOS has it’s perks). So actually, using moderate fats and low carbs is a much better idea than (essentially) the Atkins diet he was advocating. He is helping PCOS women by telling them ‘Carbs ‘R Bad’, so we’ll give him that.

Uh….what else? Oh yeah! I helped my little sister throw an Easter party for her daycare kids the other day! This is kind of a big deal, because lately I’ve hardly been able to be around small children and I haven’t wanted to hang out at the daycare or interact with the kids–a direct result of many failed cycles and the subsequent frustration and irrational desire to pretend that babies and small children are invisible. But I actually enjoyed the spending the day with them! I blew bubbles until I thought I was going to pass out. I put together Easter goodie bags. I bounced the baby (8 months old) until I thought my arms were going to fall off. It was a Par-tay! So, I think that means I’m doing better than I was a couple months ago. Small “win” IMHO.

Easter 2014

And…I finally got my first ‘smiley face’ on the CBD OPK! Oddly, after I wrote my post on Thursday (after seeing Dr. Diet earlier that day) I was cramping and I felt a lot of pressure on my right side, so, I decided to take an OPK before bed–and a smiley face appeared! The reason this is odd is that I never take more than one OPK per day, always mid-morning, because that has always worked for me. But I now realize *SMH* that you can’t really do that with the CBD OPK, because it will only detect your PEAK, and that may be in a very short window, whereas I’m used to seeing a positive or nearly positive dark line for a couple days on the cheapies. I took another test the next morning and it was negative, so I fretted over the fact that if I *hadn’t* taken that 2nd OPK on a whim, then I wouldn’t have known that I ovulated…and I would’ve pee’d on myself (I pee directly on the stick) over and over again for no f*cking reason. Point. Taken. So, I saw the smiley face and was like “Yesssss! Score!” And then I was like “Buuuuut it doesn’t make a sh*t bit of difference because Mr. MLACS is soooooo far away”. I wanted to have a temper tantrum but I just rolled my eyes. Pfffft.

And another thing…my good girlfriend who reads this blog told me she was pregnant a couple weeks ago and I was (rhetorically) “Happy for you, sad for me”. And she wanted to enjoy it and I didn’t want to be like “If you smile and wave at one more baby in my presence I will disown you” so I kind of distanced myself from her just a little. And then Mr. MLACS left for Canada and I was thinking “I don’t want to act like a punk to my friend” so I was like “Hey girl, how ya doin?” and don’t you f*cking know….she was experiencing her second miscarriage. And I felt like SUCH an a**hole for the bit of distance I put between us after she told me. And I was so, so very sad–you ladies know how that is–several of my close friends have had miscarriages this year and each time I felt like I was re-living my own miscarriage and each time I was overwhelmed with grief at their losses. And this was no different. And I haven’t cried in front of her (I didn’t cry in front of you yesterday) but I have cried. I was in a store yesterday and I found lots of jewelry I wanted to buy for her (that I wanted to buy for you, my friend)–there were keys that said “Hope”, “Strength”, “Faith”…there was a necklace with a sparrow that made me think of your baby’s precious soul flying to heaven and a black rose that seemed to symbolize the beauty and agony of death, and a cross that symbolized the Lord giving and taking away your baby…I didn’t want to overwhelm my friend with grief by giving her something that might make her sad, so I chose a little bracelet with a cross on it for her–I think a cross kind of says it all. And she loved it (you said you loved it–but I still have the receipt if you change your mind) And I didn’t cry in her presence because I didn’t want to make her cry–but friend, please know that I’ve prayed and cried for your loss, like I am crying now. And to my blogger ladies, will you please pray for and send your love and comfort to my lovely friend, K.? She has joined us in our sorrow as a woman who has endured RPL, and it’s not something I ever wanted (or expected) to share with her. She also has Endometriosis. And the docs messed up her D&C. So any of you ladies with endo who have had miscarriages (and perhaps botched surgeries) please provide a link below to your blog so K. might find some camaraderie and helpful information. Thanks.

Ok, that’s it for now. I’m done b*tching and bawling for today.

XOXO,

MLACS

 

 

 

The definition of Irony (the RE appointment update)

Irony is a multifaceted word, but to clarify, the (Merriam Webster) definition of irony in the context of what I am about to tell you is:

a (1) :  incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result (2) :  an event or result marked by such incongruity
So, you know how in my ‘about’ section I talk about having been plagued by aspects of PCOS in my younger years, but that now my only ‘symptom’ is hirsutism (excess dark + coarse hair)? If not click my ‘about’ and let the record show this has been discussed. And then, remember how I said that since my cycles are regular and I have proven to ovulate on my own, and because I do not have the telltale ‘pearl necklace’ around my ovaries, and because my testosterone is well within ‘normal’ limits…because I do not exhibit these symptoms of PCOS it has been discounted as a factor in my miscarriages and difficulty conceiving.
Well…today, I discussed my PCOS past with the RE, and then had an ultrasound…and witnessed a tiny string of pearls around my ovary. So, PCOS is still a problem for me, and in fact, the RE’s words were “Severe PCOS”.
And the irony is, that this has been there ALL ALONG and nobody saw this because the immature follicles are so small and numerous that they just appear as a black line outside the ovary (in Dr. Angel’s defense I’ve witnessed my ovaries on a large flat screen tv in his office many times and have never picked this up on his ultrasounds, and he is an OBGYN not an RE–but I cannot defend the RE from SIRM that most certainly should’ve caught this on his ultrasound).
Want s’more irony?
I have a big juicy follicle and plush uterine lining, AND for the first time in recorded history I AM OVULATING FROM MY RIGHT OVARY (I thought my right ovary had forsaken me). BUT, Mr. MLACS is thousands of miles away and there is really not a snowball’s chance in hell that the sperm that he left me with last Sunday will fertilize this egg when it decides to ovulate in the next couple of days (as of this morning there was still no ‘smiley face’ on the CBD OPK). So, I lament this wasted opportunity. *&^#$! What the fudge.
So here’s what else:

Carbs r bad mkay

1. The RE told me straight away that carbs are not my friend (I know this, I am a certified personal trainer and this irked me because if I was in-shape right now he would be asking me for advice and tips instead I felt condescended). I am to eat: 1. Meat 2. Vegetables, and then if I want a snack…some meat and vegetables…and then if I get sick of that I can have…meat and vegetables. No grains. No sugar. And yes, I consistently ate like this for years (6 years to be exact) but this is not going to be easy and I liken giving up carbs (particularly sugar) to quitting smoking or giving up crack. You have withdrawal. You are confused and don’t know what to eat if you can’t grab a granola bar or a banana. My motto as a trainer and athlete is: “If it was easy, everybody would do it”, and then we’d all have sexy abs and an a** you can bounce a quarter off of–case-in-point–this sh*t is HARD to stick to and very few people choose the ‘high road’ in our world full of delicious convenience foods. He (the RE) told me Mr. MLACS also needs to eat this way, so that makes me feel better (misery loves company)–I won’t be making him pizza and pancakes while I nosh on an egg white and broccoli omelet. But, he has recently professed a desire to lose serious weight so theoretically he shouldn’t mind (oh, but he will). I’m really glad I finished the Easter candy before I went to this appointment.
Guess what else?
2. The RE told me that “they” (I cannot remember the name of the organization) have redefined the definition of ‘recurrent pregnancy loss’ and instead of requiring 3 miscarriages, a woman is now considered to have RPL after two miscarriages. Thank God! Because 2 miscarriages is too many and 3 is cruel and I’ve never understood why “they” thought that 3 babies should have to perish before “they” would consider it an issue worth looking into. This being the case, the RE wanted to do a couple of RPL blood tests that were not performed on me as part of my autoimmune blood panel last year, and he also decided to err on the side of caution and order my karyotype–which will be covered by my insurance because my 2 miscarriages have qualified me (according to “they”) as a woman who has suffered RPL, diagnosis code 629.81. Amen–I feel vindicated.
3. The RE (I really have to come up with a nickname for him like I did for Dr. Handsome and Dr. Angel, but I’ll have to give it some more thought) suggested that IVF is not something that we should aspire to unless we are impatient and ready to part with some cash. Which, I am impatient but we are not wealthy and I would rather spend our money on a new family car, a house, or pretty much anything besides IVF. But if I win the lottery before we achieve a viable pregnancy (it’s sad that I can even imagine this as a possibility) then the first thing I would purchase would be IVF–just sayin’. **Then I’d be relieved of my concern that my eggs will all turn to dust when I turn 35 next year, because I’d (hopefully) have some embryos on ice.
4. Instead, the RE has alluded to doing IUI’s with a serious protocol to create several eggs per cycle and thereby increase our chances that one or more ‘sticks’. This is exactly what I wanted him to say. And he showed me pictures of one baby, two babies, three babies, and even four babies! As a caution that multiples are far more likely when you employ such a protocol. And duh, I know this and I would be happy with 1 or 4 babies and I’m confident that I can mother how ever many God gives us. But honestly I’m more worried about zero babies than I am about (in his words) “having a litter”. Lol. He showed me a graph that indicated that in a woman my age (34) nearly 50% of her eggs will be chromosomally abnormal. I get that it’s an important point to make to a patient (or her husband) who may balk at the goal of 4 or 5 eggs per cycle, as they may worry about having 5 babies–but if 50% of your eggs are crap and even a good egg might find implantation impossible, then the RE is demonstrating the unlikelihood of high-order multiples. But, I just find that sh*t SO depressing and I am all-too-aware of my diminishing fertility. Thanks dude.
5. The RE says that (also ironically) Mr. MLACS’s frozen sperm number are great–you guys know I actually cried when I saw the numbers this last cycle (12 million and 13 million motile) because they seem so dismal compared to his fresh sperm (55 million at 100% motility). BUT he would still rather have Mr. MLACS present during my cycles to increase our chances. So, *cringe* since the blossoming egg on my right ovary will foreseeably go to waste when it ovulates in the next couple of days, I can expect a menstrual period in a couple weeks and at this time he would put me on birth control pills to manipulate my cycle so I would ovulate when Mr. MLACS is in the vicinity. I don’t f*cking want to go on birth control. I hate it. I hope to high hell he can change his schedule, like, pronto. And bless his heart, he is trying to change his schedule. I can’t ask any more of him.
The RE also said I am the 2nd most organized patient he has seen–I asked him who’s #1 and he told me he had a patient that kept a spiral notebook detailing her menstrual cycles from like, the beginning of time. And that’s just weird. So in my opinion, I win. And was just so happy to be there as a patient that I didn’t even dwell on the fact that they didn’t hire me a couple months ago (I was told I was the top 2 interviewees, but I came in 2nd on that too).
When he talked to me about diet and exercise after I told him that I KNOW WHAT TO DO, I finally whipped out a photo shoot picture of me (in a bikini) that was taken after the last ‘Figure’ competition I did in 2009. And he was like “Whoa, you looked good!” and I was like “Yeah, I know” and he was like “So bring me a copy of that picture to put in your chart”. Which, they took a headshot of me earlier and I bet it’s awful so I will be more than happy to provide him with a picture I’m proud of. I don’t think he’s a pervert. Actually, he mentioned that his wife is intending to go to the plastic surgeon that did my breast augmentation to have her “mommy makeover” (for those of you that are unfamiliar, that is when women who are done having kids go to the plastic surgeon and get their boobs done and a tummy-tuck and often times some liposuction). I think he probly wants to show his wife how my boobs look in the bikini. You have seen that crappy (headless) pic of me in that frumpy bridesmaid dress that I posted the other day, but I’ll take this opportunity to post a (headless) bikini pic so you guys can see me in my ‘glory days’. I would LOVE to look like this again–muscular, long, and lean, but healthy (not starved). But I’ve had a super sh*tty couple of years health-wise and even though I’m finally healthy, I can’t focus on getting in this kind of shape while I’m trying to have a baby. So, it’ll have to wait. *Sigh* I will probably remove this pic after a week day or so, because I don’t want anyone recognizing it or doing weird stuff with it if they come across it. Also, I was a fat kid–not athletic–with a flat chest and a hairy chin, so if I can do this, anyone can do this–you, yes YOU could totally do this if you committed to make it happen.

bikini heart

I’ve been dreading becoming pregnant because I’m currently chubby–I DO NOT LOOK LIKE THIS PICTURE–add about 35lbs and take away the tan and that’s more like it. I’m actually glad that the RE is putting me on this no carb diet because it will help me lose weight and hopefully I will not want to hide my body and be jealous of skinny girls who are “all belly” when (God willing) it’s ‘my turn’. It will be great for me and for Mr. MLACS. And I just talked to Mr. MLACS and told him all about the appointment, and he is stoked! Such a change from a year ago–last year I didn’t want to talk about my doctors appointments because he would berate me for spending money for going to the doctor. This attitude and lack of support from him, on top of my miscarriages and chronic illness, was almost too much for me. He was miserable at his job, overworked, smoking a pack a day, never exercising or caring for himself, always taking issue with me–he felt like a stranger sometimes. But now, he is supportive of my medical stuff and on-board with doing whatever is necessary to have a baby…he even said the other day that we need to be careful with our money in case we need to do IVF! He quit smoking and he has been working out. He is content to go to church with me! He likes his job but he is thinking more about our happiness as a family than playing ‘Game of Thrones’ in his workplace (it has been so competitive and back-stabby). He feels more close to me now, even thousands of miles away, than he did last year when he was sleeping next to me every night. It’s like, I finally have the marriage I’ve been wanting and working towards, and the only thing missing is a baby. And after today, I feel like it’s going to happen–my hope has been dwindling–but it has been rekindled by the RE.

Also! I was thinking “Maybe I’ll call the RE ‘Dr. Hope'”, but he’s a bit brusque and (appropriately) cocky, so in a nod to his “Carbs ‘R Bad, M’kay?” protocol, I think I’ll refer to him as Dr. Diet.

Farewell carbs. Hello baby???
Love you guys!
XOXO,
MLACS

***Edit***I also meant to tell you that I added ‘IUI #4’ protocol to my menu bar and if you click on ‘Workouts’ I added a golf-inspired workout since golf is my new “thing” these days. XO

I Wish…

…That getting pregnant was as easy as getting the flu…I have the flu, and I didn’t even have to try! Ha. But pregnancy eludes me.

So, the blogosphere is buzzing as there has been a cornucopia of BFP’s lately–congrats to you ladies and you know I wish you the best. But yes, I’m pouting because several of my absolute favorite bloggers are now ‘on the other side’ and I’m still here, working for that second line. But hey, if you have a BFP then enjoy it! Don’t waste any time or energy feeling guilty (that whole ‘survivors guilt’ thing) or worrying that you’ll offend people or hurt their feelings. Because the truth is, that we can always ‘unfollow’ you if we aren’t in a place to appreciate positive pee sticks, betas, ultrasounds, etc. And yeah, I totally ‘unfollowed’ a bunch of people the other day and I’m not going to feel guilty about it. I’ll still peek at stalk your blogs on a regular basis, but in the interest of ‘self preservation’, like if I’m having a bad day and one of you preggos wants to talk about swollen boobs or the excessive need to pee, then it won’t show up in my newsfeed and irritate the crap outta me (like someone poking their finger into an open wound). Fair enough, right? And most preggos stop posting and reading regularly, and if you don’t keep up with me or comment on my blog so often, then I won’t hold it against you–it’s a natural transition for pregnant after IF bloggers to “drift” away from their IF blogs. Lets keep it real–who can blame you?

So now that we’ve got that out of the way…

As I previously mentioned, I have the flu. Mr. MLACS is leaving town on Sunday and I had high hopes for how much fun we might have while he’s been home. But here’s what really happened:

1. Mr. MLACS came home with the flu and felt like crap, so we had a pretty ‘toned down’ getaway in the city, which was fine. Also, I was taking progesterone suppositories and feeling absolutely disgusting, so ‘sexy time’ was not so..sexy.

2. I then found out I was not pregnant, and had phantom cramps for a couple of days before AF came to town–and stayed for 6 days. And also, during those days we had some nasty weather that kept us mostly inside.

3. AF finally finished and the weather warmed up, but then I came down with the flu. *&%$#.

Good things that have occurred despite the obstacles; Mr. MLACS has taken tender-loving-care of me and that makes me appreciate him even more (he found me some gluten-free chicken noodle soup and he picks up my piles of slimy Kleenex–if that’s not love then I don’t know what love is). We managed to go hit some golf balls at the driving range on a couple of these nice days, and Mr. MLACS decided I needed some golf clubs of my very own! So I got my very own golf set! We bought it from Dick’s sporting goods on sale. It’s ‘Top Flight’ brand and they are pink. And I love them.

Also, we found a really fabulous BBQ place on the outskirts of town and visited it a couple of times for dinner with friends. And…well that’s probly all that’s worth talking about as far as what we’ve been up to…we caught up on the tv series ‘Vikings’ and ‘Walking Dead’, which we DVR and watch together when Mr. MLACS is home.

Well here’s some ttc news: The RE’s office finally called today and offered me an appointment next week! Howzabout that?! I am mf*ing stoked! So it appears I will be able to do a cycle with him in May (please, God). I hadn’t heard from Dr. Angel, which I thought was strange and it makes me paranoid that I’ve done something wrong, but he called today. He apologized for not getting me pregnant, and that made me sad because it seems he’s really frustrated and considers it a personal failure–which I believe is my burden to bear and not his, being that his protocol was all within reason and I’m the one who failed to get pregnant. I will have to do something to make him understand how much I appreciate what he’s done for us and that, in my opinion, he is a hero.

Lastly, there’s the matter of “Myrtle’s” wedding this weekend. I am an awful friend, because I could not be less excited. I am far more excited about my RE appointment next week. The only thing about this wedding that excites me is the chance that Mr. MLACS and I will get to take a good picture together and we’re getting a reasonably nice hotel room for our ttc ‘romp fest’ this weekend before he leaves. Oh yeah, and I bought one of those clear blue easy OPK’s with the detachable pee sticks, that shows you either an empty circle or a smiley face when you’re LH surge is happening. So far it’s all empty circles, but I’m really praying for a ‘smiley face’ by Sunday, since that’s the day Mr. MLACS is taking off. Cheers!

XOXO,

MLACS