Damn You Mittelschmerz!

Mittelschmerz = Technical term for “painful ovulation”


I started having cramp-ishness in the evening circa 6pm, and by 7pm I was walking hunched over. I was in bed by 8pm. But then Mr. MLACS woke me up as he was settling into bed at 11pm, and I tried to go back to sleep but eventually pacified myself looking at FB and blogs. Then…I started to feel like my uterus was trying to be ripped out of my a**hole…and now here I sit on the couch in my pink fuzzy bathrobe, hunched over the laptop with a cup of hot tea (may I recommend Celestial Seasonings Apple Cinnamon) and my Kleenex close at hand…it seems unfair that I’m in such a horrible amount of pain and I have a bathroom cabinet full of painkillers and muscle relaxers, but for purely procreational purposes I’ve limited myself to Tylenol Extra Strength (I haven’t even taken cold meds this week). I’m sitting here rocking back-and-forth because it mildly helps the pain, but standing or laying down is uncomfortable–how the hell am I supposed to make Thanksgiving dinner like this??! This sh*t (injectables + iui) had better work…Lord have mercy…


After passing out on the couch with a pillow between my legs, Mr. MLACS woke me up at 6am and I paged Dr. Angel to be sure he was available, he was, and I said I’d be at his office by 6:30. Mr. MLACS helped me load the Thanksgiving odds-n-ends that I needed to take to my family’s house to dress our turkey straight away after the appointment, and off we went. Dr. Angel was ready for me and asked me if I had any pain, to which I replied “Oh gawd YES, it’s been awful”, and I think he noticed that I cringed when he took out the dildocam–I’m still so tender that the thought of it turned me off. But as soon as the image of my left ovary appeared on the screen, I knew it was good news and Dr. Angel confirmed it when he exclaimed “They’re all GONE!” And then we admired the large amount of fluid accumulated between my uterus and anus (no wonder it felt like “someone trying to rip my uterus through my butt”–I didn’t say that out loud though). I also noticed when Dr. Angel tipped me backwards in his ‘fancy chair’ that my boobs are bigger today. I’m a little worried because Dr. Angel intoned that he is not afraid of twins–but a little concerned because the last time he did this protocol it ended in triplets…OMFG, I could handle it but I surely do not wish for it. Dr. Angel surprised me by saying I could test this next Wednesday or Thursday, which seems awfully early but you don’t have to tell me to POAS twice, lol. He also tells me that I ought to have sex again today…which makes me want to cry…


Arrive at my family’s house and dress the turkey using this recipe (click ‘this recipe’ if you’re curious). This is the first turkey I’ve made for my family and I have grand delusions of them applauding me and telling me it’s the best they’ve ever had.


Leave family’s house and go home to shower and grab a few more things we need. Mr. MLACS insists that we follow Dr. Angel’s instructions to have sex once more, and I begrudgingly remove only my pants (remaining in my sweatshirt and large fuzzy socks) to signify that this is business and not pleasure–gotta hand it to Mr. MLACS, the deed requires absolutely zero effort on my part and he is very efficient. After the “business” is handled and I’ve fixed myself up a bit, we head to the dollar store to buy a few last minute tupperware containers to cart our portion of leftovers home with us (Mr. MLACS refuses to shop on Thanksgiving because his mother is vehemently opposed to stores being open on Thanksgiving, so he is sworn to secrecy).

Cook insane amounts of food, with Mr. MLACS as my trusty sidekick and my Grandma trying to help. My turkey and my ham both turned out beautifully, as did the potatoes au gratin, stuffing, and sweet potatoes. Grandma made the pies (pecan and lemon meringue) and my sister made green bean casserole. I set the table with a poinsettia, matching red cloth napkins, and our family’s good china–it looked the way it used to when my Mom made our holiday dinners (legit). We all had plenty to eat and my family was appreciative of my (and Mr. MLACS’s) efforts, and that makes it all worthwhile. Plus we have tons of leftovers! I’m freakin’ exhausted–but grateful–very, very grateful.
Turkey Time
I hope you all had/are having a wonderful Thanksgiving (and for those not celebrating, happy Thursday!) XOXO

A Miscarriage is still a Miscarriage (no matter what you call it)

Yeah, so, to get all Shakespeare on you: a miscarriage is still as painful by any other name (chemical).
I thought it would be “just like getting a period”, as chemical pregnancies are thought to be extremely common and are not accounted for in miscarriage statistics because most women “don’t even know they’re pregnant” (of course they’re not trying) and they get their period, business-as-usual.
I was wrong. Again. Or perhaps, I was atypical. Again.
Inspired by my extreme misery and feeling like I was finally ready to introduce myself to the IF/RPL communities, I wrote my first blog post on 8/01/2013–but I didn’t want my first blog post to be all “doom and gloom” cuz that’s not what I’m about. However, I’d like to share it with you:

“Lets begin with current events: I’m curled up on the couch with a heating pad stuffed down the front of my pants and a box of tissues on the table next to me. A short while ago I got up to pee and wiped and the tissue was pink and I knew this was “it”. I wimpered. I looked at the 5 hpt’s with the faint positives laying on my bathroom counter, and unceremoniously dumped them in the bathroom trash, which was full of hpt’s/opk’s and their packaging so I emptied it into the big kitchen trashcan…at the very bottom were tampon wrappers from my last period, and oddly (or maybe not) they upset me: back to square one.
I knew this was coming; today my period is due and it is like clockwork; my hpt was so faint the untrained eye would never see the line; I was cramping; but most of all I had my betas drawn yesterday and the verdict: 5, which is the absolute lowest you can have and be considered “pregnant”. I was barely pregnant, a “chemical pregnancy”, and upon hearing of my pitiful betas yesterday I had counted my blessings: that I had gotten pregnant unassisted, that it’s happening early (no heartbeat), that it likely wouldn’t throw off my cycle and I could continue ttc uninterrupted…
So I was fucking blindsided by the flood of grief and panic and the physical pain that overwhelmed me as I felt my flow begin. I sobbed uncontrollably. I called my hubs and when he failed to comfort me I texted him like 6 angry pages of texts and dared him to engage me in a fight. He was at work and I swore to him that if he came home and was anything but sweet and supportive that I would break EVERY piece of glass in the house (and I pictured myself actually doing it).
I thought I would be relieved to start my menses on schedule and giddy-up to the next cycle.
But I was awash in emotions and physical pain–worse than my recent miscarriage at 7w2d. WTF. I was so unprepared to feel like…I am losing a baby. Again. Are you ever prepared? I hope I can never answer that question.
So yeah, here I lay, pacified by crappy chinese delivery food and 1/2 a Soma. Nice to meet you ladies. Hope your Saturday sucked less than mine did.”