Monday, December 29th, 2008 – RE visit: 13 mm proliferative lining, quiet ovaries, fluid visible indicating ovulation occurred a few hours prior, nicely corresponding with the cramping I felt when I got out of bed. DIY insem, 10:45 am-ish
Tuesday, December 30th, 2008 – pick up “the goods” from the lab (count = 156 mil, 60% motility – good lord), 10:30 am. IUI 11 am, some residual CM, cervix still open. Huh.
Oh, the holidays. They sure take it out of a girl, you know? There’s my excuse for not blogging (aw – remember when I used to blog everyday?*). Now let’s move on.
It’s CD 10. Whoa. High on old Clear Blue. More CM yesterday than you can shake a stick at. Crappy skin. But it’s *CD 10* for fuck’s sake. I’m going to throw a home insem tomorrow, I hope, because all the signs are lining up. But who knows what’s really going on in there? I’ve become very attached to the internal view the wand gives me. Just how big is that follicle? Inquiring minds (i.e. mine) want to know. With any luck the RE will see me very early tomorrow morning so I can chill the fuck out. Lord.
I was at a delightful wedding yesterday and had an all too brief conversation with a old friend who’s “journeying” through infertility as well. We had a moment, before we got (pleasantly) overrun by other people about how fucking hard it is. Misery loves company, yes, and damn it was reassuring to have somebody else nod, her eyes big and honest, as we said how nobody who hasn’t done really understands just how all consuming it is. I’ve tried to do other things, I really have, but my infertility and all its hangers-on loom just over my shoulder all the time, tap-tap-tapping away so I won’t forget they are there. Thank you, the IVP, for not ever leaving me alone with all that shit.
Anyway, other news: the wedding mentioned above was fab. Yes, fab. I’ve got my Feelings about weddings, but this one was fab. The bride and I had talked not too long ago about how important it was to her to have her community be part of the wedding; that the she knew the support of the people around them was tantamount to the working part of her relationship. Now, that is one argument I’ll buy in favor of marriage (I’m not talking about any civil or legal issues here – whatever I think about marriage, it shouldn’t be denied anyone). You need your people around you. And so there we were, a whole mess of us, taking note that two people we love were telling us they loved us and each other enough to stand up and speak about it.
You’ll remember the bridal shower for this wedding. Right? I knew you did. Good job. Well, there was no corresponding boy version planned for the groom, and in my mind that is a crime. That’s right, a crime. We’ve got precious few rights of passage and I’ll mark the few we’ve got with all my heart. Funeral? I’m there. Wedding? On it. These are big deals. And my friend was not going to embark on this next bit of his life without some sort of demarcation involving drinks and talk about sex.
I sent out the all call to get some help with writing a cheat-sheet for him to take to bed with him that First All Important Night and set about making the early guests wash the dishes while I laminated the cheat sheet. The guest of honor showed up, after some entertaining phone drama, and we all stood around on the porch drinking: me and the boys and the groom’s sister. Perfect. We drifted in and out – it’s been warm here, y’all – and at some point the phone rang and I disappeared for a minute to talk to The New Girl, who’s away for the holidays (yes, foolish of her, I know), and when I came back, the party had taken a turn for the nerdy. The computer was open and firefox was open, but were they streaming p.orn? No. No and no. Weird and archaic over-dubbed videos from sometime in the 80’s. *sigh*
Other holiday events have been as you might expect – that is, great. Company and food and visiting. Culminating in a rather impromptu visit from the Cutest Family of the Valley (you’ll remember them, I am sure) this evening. And oh, yes, it was good. All Shellfish All The Time good. Seared scallops and oyster stew. A walk to the coffee shop and a gorgeous sunset. The baby sleeping on the couch to Sam Cooke through dinner and mismatched napkins. I’d not call it Holiday Entertaining, because this is how things with the Valley kids usually roll, but I sure would call it a good end to holiday entertaining.
* and on another note, remember when I used to blog well everyday? Practice. *snort* Teh Bane of my existence.
Now, had this been yesterday’s post – yesterday at 4 am to be precise – y’all’d be reading something totally different. Yesterday, inspite of lots of good things, was for shit. Sometimes days are like that.
But then – *then* – my friends, came the time for my most favorite of all xmastime events: The Country Christmas Show. All those caps are legit, not an ironic one among them. Oh, it was fab this year, y’all. Songs about chocolate Jesus, girls in sparkly dresses and Jim Waive in my favorite suit. Christmas songs and liquor in a flask; plastic Santa statues and a sing-a-long at the end.
And folks, of course. So many it would be an exercise in long-winded-ness to try to list them all. You can imagine it, I am sure. Not all my people were there, but enough of them that the lack of the others was like a sweet remembering of them, a wishing that almost made manifest.
I’ve had a house guest for days who just left this morning; there’s been marathon crafting here with T of Tuesday fame and LB. The neighbors drop by cards and presents. The cats lay around by the fire and invitations come by phone and email for drinks and food. There’s company due for dinner any minute, and yes, yes I do wish y’all were here, too.
It’s always better than I think. Merry Everything.
Here we are – sans stripper, without crotchless panties – waiting to have a “Bachelorette” party for my most locally famous blogger/RL friend – Wistar Watts Murry. The Plan, made up by the KP and me, was to break in to her blog and have all us guests write some little something (and by little, I mean dirty) for her.
Alas, when we tried to break into her blog – via passwords like “darren4eva” and “iheartkittens77” – we were met with failure. So here we are, as I said. Imagine me jumping out of a virtual cake. Ok, actually, that’s the KP jumping out of the virtual cake. Don’t tell me you’re surprised.
The Guest of Honor (heh) is due to arrive on the arm of her ever-charming fiance, the BBF. He’s cute. You can take it from me.
Huh. So much for a picture – it’s really dark in here.
Hey, it’s Jennifer. I just took a picture of myself that Meghan thinks somehow looks prettyish. Hmmm? Here ya go:
Wistar, when are you going to get here to your surprise party. You’re 19 minutes late already. And we are getting dronk. I asked Christos to jump out of a cake, but he said if I can’t make it to the wedding how can I jump out of a cake. Good point. I will jump out of a tiramisu when you arrive. I swear. I did a lot of cutting and pasting of DoDo from your Flickr gallery and I hope you approve. I love you.
MMS and MRM and MLM here. Stupid first letter matching, Murrays suck.
MLM missed the photo shoot, lucky her.
Miller made Merrill cry. But she’s OK now. SSSHHHHH here comes Wistar!
Word is she’s been eating sushi. Mil and Meig had pasta six hours ago with kiddos. So pleased Lang is here, she’s the best.
Are they really coming right now or is this a joke? Somebody recommended we hide in the bathroom. We should have established this plan before 8:32.
Starrhillgirl needs to go to bed, I hope they hurry up. More “let’s pop out” from Jennifer. Should we say “happy birthday” or “happy easter” or “surprise” oh goodness this is stressful. They are walking soooo slowly. Wis must be wasted..
get down get down get down what are we saying 123 surprise!
***Let’s take note that Wistar actually said “EEEEEEE” when we all yelled.*****
Wis is here, whew. Never looked better.
There is a lot of lady up in here! I want to Wish W.W. M all the luck in the world.
P.S. call me when you are ready for a girl on girl affair.
Yes, kids, I’m back at the theater. Which will do little for my sleep account, but wonders for my emotional health.
Today was an extra long and rather horrific day at work and I had no time at my house, but I walked in to the theater and it was like home. A million different tiny groups of people singing and designers and technician running around, actors putting on make-up and musicians talking. It was the usual level of just controlled chaos of the night before preview.
Good lord, I am glad to be there. With all my favorites and some gruby and fancy clothes to take care of. With corsets and fake boobs and ratty overcoats. With ladders and parasols and with paper fans and chairs. From these things we make art.
No insems this cycle. You may log your complaints with the Fertility Gods, such as they are.
It’s CD 13. Old Clear Blue Finally asked me for a stick (Although, as usual, the flaws in our relationship could be blamed on a lack of clear communication. I kept trying to Process at night instead of in the morning.) and lo and behold, I got a high reading. Which, given today’s watery CM, is more believable than I first thought. There’s some talk that monitors act weird after a miscarriage, plus me and old Clear Blue, well, it’s a rocky relationship at best.
Anyway. Here we go. Again.