The Not-So-Divine Secrets of -Motherhood-

Banana Splits

So I started off my day on a crying jag. I was crying so hard I couldn't stop myself, I felt like one of those kids that you ask them if they want you to give them something to cry about. (thanks to my parents I will be working that out in therapy years from now)

I did go to the lab and pick up a copy of my test results. My HCG level is 11877. I was happy to see that, as it means that it is still doubling around 42 hours. However, my progesterone level had dropped from the confident 30 to 26.2. I felt the waves of anxiety hitting me again.

I just love my baby sister. She always knows the right things to say. Sometimes she tells me the things I don't want to hear, but either way I know that I can always count on her. So while I was out running over to the lab to pick up my test results she was off to the grocery store to pick up all the fixings for banana splits. She really knows just how to make me feel better.

We spent the afternoon lounging by the pool. It was a beautiful day here- probably mid seventies- and was a welcome change to the crisp winter air. We didn't get in the pool because it was still way too cold, but we soaked up the sun and watched the golfers go by. All in all, it should have been pretty relaxing if I wasn't thinking about my decreasing progesterone levels.

She was here so that I wouldn't log on to the computer and Google any more stressful information. Of course, I thought I would be able to show some self restraint once she left but I have none. I immediately hopped online. I forget how I came to a website that I hadn't yet searched over the last ten days but I did find one. Low and behold, I found a post that brought hope back into my life. I'm copying it below for your reference:

"So for all of you worrying, we didn't see our heartbeats or embryos until 8 weeks. 6 weeks is often MUCH too early to see anything. In fact, I have since spoken with someone who didnt see a heartbeat at 8 weeks...went back at 9 weeks and saw one. Try not to worry and keep positive." Sarah

The second I read that I felt as if a great weight had been lifted. There was the ONE positive thing I was looking for. There, my friends, was hope. As I kept reading through that thread I found something even greater- an entire website dedicated to hope.

www.misdiagnosedmiscarriage.com

I read through almost the entire website- my back is aching from hunching over the computer. My eyes are dried out from not blinking as I was reading, and my left leg is asleep because I was so engrossed in the stories that I didn't even move. My husband came in and shook his head when he found out I was online again. I told him I was about to start another crying jag and he looked a little peturbed with me, but when I told him this time it was tears of hope he had to come closer.

This website is written with good stories. People who have had positive outcomes no matter how bad the initial diagnosis was. As a matter of fact, some of these women were even on their way to their D&C when one last check miraculously turned up a viable pregnancy!

I may have mentioned it before, but I have a tilted uterus. Guess what the common theme was for these women that were unable to see anything but a gestational sac? You got it. So maybe, just maybe, the wand was pointing the wrong way. There may really be something in there but it's just hiding. Or maybe my doctor is too cheap to invest in the newest state of the art machine. Who knows. All I know is that I am going to have hope.

This won't stop me from calling the nurse on Monday and asking her to have my progesterone rechecked. I think if we can catch that and start to supplement it before it gets too low then we still have a fighting chance.

For the first time in ten days I am really thinking that this might truly happen for me. I don't know who started that website but I just want to spread the word. The internet only contains what we post on it. Most of us only post our misfortune so websites such as that one are few and far between. But it is websites such as that one that really need to be in the spotlight. Maybe if they were we wouldn't have so much self induced fear running rampant. And maybe my doctor's office would actually have time to do their job instead of me trying to do it for them.

For a change, I am going to sleep with a whole heart tonight.

Mini Panic Attacks

It started last night and picked back up this morning. I just realized that Thursday night I had no cramps and I didn't have any last night either. Adding in the fact that the only things Google ever finds are negative, I'm not feeling so hot.

I woke up this morning and immediately did the boob check. Not sore. So I'm freaking out. This is a problem. I called the lab sneaky sneaky and didn't get an actual person this time. All I got was a recorded lab request line where I had to leave my information. If my test is done then they will fax it within 24 hours to the local office for me to pick up. If it isn't done then it will be faxed within 24 hours of completion. That won't help because the local office is closed tomorrow.

I can't help it. I know that this is not within my control. That's only part of why I am so upset. I'm mostly upset because I have come so far and I just don't think I can take the heartache of it not working out.

I called my dear baby sister crying so hard that she was halfway to the car before I could squeak out that I just needed to talk. She's pretty good at calming me down. She's going to have a shower then she's coming over to disconnect my computer so that I can't do any more self-diagnosing.

I really, really want to be optimistic about this. I really want to think that maybe I am not as far along as I thought (even though the gestational sac measured 5 weeks 6 days). I want to think that maybe I was only 5 weeks 2 days at the time of the ultrasound and that is still pretty early. I want to think that it is due to the fact that I have a tilted uterus so maybe he didn't have the best angle.

I'm just deathly afraid that if I allow myself those little rays of optimism that they will be crushed and deep down inside I knew it all along. Of course, this is a double edged sword. I can't be overly negative because your body does do strange things when under stress. I don't want to be the cause of problems that weren't there. But I can't help but worry because I've been heartbroken too many times before.

I decided that one of the reasons this is so difficult is that usually when I have mild panic attacks like this I am able to self-medicate with a glass of wine, a hot bath, and a massage. Obviously the wine and hot bath are out. I could probably get a mild massage but then I would be worried that it would release additional toxins into my body that could cause some other problem.

I was crying in the kitchen this morning- it seems I can't really stop myself even when I'm not truly upset. (thanks hormones!) My husband came in and asked me why I was so upset, this was out of my control. I'm thinking that I've done a pretty good job of hiding my true self for the last eight years if he doesn't know that about me by now. It is only the things that are outside of my control that ever upset me.

So anyway, I'm going upstairs to have a shower. The plan is to make it through the week until my next ultrasound. The first part of the plan is to try and get a copy of my lab report this weekend so that I can either know that my hcg is still doubling and my progesterone is still good or so that I can know it is not. I need at least a little mental preparation for the ultrasound on Friday.

If this doesn't work out I don't know what I'll do. This is going to be a long, long week.

I don't feel reassured

So today I went for the eagerly anticipated doctors appointment. I am such a freakin' pessimist. I was able to force my doctor to do an early ultrasound, that much worked in my favor. As a matter of fact, they didn't weigh me, didn't do any kind of exam, just told me to hop up on the table naked from the waist down. Oh yeah, but they gave me a paper towel to wear.

I was glad that my husband could make it because I wasn't sure if they would do the ultrasound or not but I didn't want him to miss a minute of this. Bless his heart, he gets physically ill at anything medically grotesque so he hung out up near my head. I could hear him breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

At first I was reassured, after all, the doctor was able to locate the gestational sac in my uterus. Score one for me- it isn't ectopic! But that was all he was able to locate. And at the time he didn't make it sound very alarming, but he did want me to repeat the beta hcg test. He told me that there was a sac there but that there were some shadows so he couldn't definitively locate the fetal pole. He showed me a blotchy area that I was willing with all my might to show up and clearly define itself as fetal pole, but that didn't happen. He told me the sac was "a little" flat but it was still very early.

He gave me a doctorly pat on the back and told me not to worry so much. He said it wouldn't matter how much I worried about it, I wouldn't be able to change any of it anyway. At the time I thought that was very Zen of him but now I am wondering if he knew something that he didn't want to share?

So he is going to be in Mexico next week. He asked me if I would like to go to an outsourced ultrasound facility to which I emphatically disagreed. The thing is, when you go to one of those places the ultrasound techs won't tell you anything because whether it is good news or bad they are afraid of being sued. And I can't stand the thought of waiting through another weekend after this one to find out what is going on.

They scheduled me for a follow up ultrasound next Friday morning. I will be doing it with his in-house tech and he specifically gave her instructions right in front of me to tell me the results whether they were good or bad. So at least I know that I will have some answers in another week.

By the way, do not, I repeat, DO NOT Google "flat yolk sac and early pregnancy". I'm telling you, nothing good will come out of it. So here I am, no less stressed. Actually feeling worse and worse about the prognosis.

If nothing else, boobs are still sore. Great.

Blah.

Ok, I just need to vent. So I called my dr's office this morning at 9:30 because my appointment was at 10. I wanted to make sure that the dr was running on time (or as close as reasonably possible).

The receptionist told me "Well, we haven't seen the dr yet this morning but I'm sure he is running on time or we would know about it". That should have been my red flag. I was just wrapped up in this euphoric dream that today I was finally going to get some answers. And that I was going to force them to do an early ultrasound so that I could make sure my little nugget is stuck in the right place.

I get in my car and drive like a maniac to my appointment. My husband met me there and we walked into the lobby. It was FULL. There are probably twenty women there. So right off the bat I know that they are NOT running on time. I'm standing at the counter giving them my new insurance card and I hear the girls talking about one of the dr's patients being "completely".

Completely what? Off her rocker? It isn't nice to talk about me as I'm standing here. So as I eavesdrop I think they mean completely effaced and almost dilated to the finish line. Is it bad that I'm praying for her labor to last like six more hours so that my dr can get through all of his patients including me?

We sit and wait for twenty minutes and they call me back up to the counter. It turns out that the lady with the baby couldn't wait after all so they are cancelling all of the dr's appointments for the rest of the morning. FANTASTIC. I just knew when I woke up this morning that something was going to go awry.

I put on my sunglasses and walked out of the doctors office crying. I haven't really stopped since. My boss thinks I'm a lunatic. Everyone is giving me hugs at work and apologizing for making me cry. And the worst part is- they are supposedly going to squeeze me in tomorrow at 11:20 but I'm still so frustrated that I can't stop the tears. Besides that, how do I know tomorrow will be any different?

Darn those hormones. So I am no closer to having any sort of peace of mind. I don't know anything more than I knew yesterday. And also- I told the receptionist that they should probably allow me enough time to do an ultrasound as well and she said they don't do them on the spot. The dr has to order them. It sounds like something you do with a value meal. Place your order at this window please. Pull forward to pick it up.

Blah. It's seven pm,I'm going to bed for yet another restless night so that tomorrow I may wake up feeling exhausted and cranky and start the day all over again.

And I will love every minute of it because I begged and pleaded to get here.

Oh so tired

It seems that either the pregnancy symptoms are starting to kick in or the fact that I haven't had any sleep for the last week has finally outpaced my adrenaline surge. I'm exhausted. It's nearly 8pm but I plan to make this quick and then head off to bed.

I thought tomorrow would never get here. I have my first prenatal appointment at ten am. I don't feel nearly as prepared as I should be though- where is my list of critical questions to pepper my doctor with? Where is my day-timer to write down important milestone dates? Should I bring a notepad to jot down all the medical terms and numbers he throws out for further investigation later?

Or should I just say "screw it, I'm not going to remember anything he tells me and I won't believe him at face value anyway." Right now (because I'm so tired) I'm leaning toward the latter. And you know me, even with all of the notes and questions I still won't believe him, I will have to search the internet far and wide for something to disprove him. Just one little thing to give myself cause for concern.

That being said, I'm going to bed. Maybe, just maybe, I can get a decent night of sleep. And if not, I hope it at least goes quickly. Time is minus fourteen hours and counting.

Be Careful What You Wish For

You know the other day, when I said the cramping had eased up and I was begging my body to start again? Be careful what you wish for. Last night was almost the single worst sleep I have had in the week since finding out I am pregnant.

First of all, it was literally every two hours starting at midnight. I woke up so wracked with cramps that I thought my mid section was collapsing upon itself. Maybe that's a little extreme. They weren't super painful but they were very insistent and not at all mild or moderate in my book. They last about 15 minutes on average then it takes me about forty-five minutes to fall back asleep. Just in time to get to that REM sleep and wake again.

Midnight. Two. Four. Six. (I could keep going. Two, four, six, eight, what do I appreciate? Cramps, cramps, GOOOO Cramps!) My poor husband has threatened to self medicate with Tylenol PM and dramamine for a really good night of sleep tonight. I kept thinking when I would get up to walk them off that he was sleeping through but apparently not. The luggage under his eyes this morning told it all.

Lets see, two more sleeps until I see my doctor. That actually breaks down to about 38 more hours before the big appointment. But who is counting?

Pregnancy symptoms? I'm eating enough to feed a basketball team- just trying to make sure I get enough servings of each item in the food triangle. I only have to pee more because I am drinking more water. I'm bloated, but that could be mainly attributed to the fact that I am eating about sixteen meals a day and drinking approximately two gallons of water per day. I'm cranky, but I'm pretty sure that is due to lack of having even one solid night of sleep in the last week.

Oh yes, and boobs still sore? Check.

Cautiously Optimistic or Conservatively Pessimistic?

I MUST STOP READING HORROR STORIES ON THE INTERNET.

Over the weekend I had convinced myself that my betas wouldn't double and that I probably had an ectopic pregnancy brewing. Remember, my first Dr's appointment isn't until Thursday and the phlebotomist at the lab suggested that the earliest my lab results would be back to my doctor would be Tuesday. This was last Friday.

Normally in situations like these I would self medicate and drink my way through the weekend but that wasn't an option. Instead I literally chewed my nails and pored over every possible website related to pregnancy and miscarriage that I could locate. There is some pretty horrible stuff out there. We shouldn't be allowed to post our horror stories for others to see. Or we should have two types of search engines- the ones that search wearing rose-tinted glasses and the ones that search the deepest darkest depths of hell.

So anyway, I was pretty sneaky. I called the lab this morning and asked them when my doctor would have the results back. Well, well, well. It turns out that the results had already been faxed to my doctor. However, the doctors office took today off along with the federal government. So I asked the customer service lady if she could just tell me the number on the results.

Of course, if she had told me that number she would have lost her job. So instead she said that she could fax the results to a lab closer to my office and I could go present photo id to pick them up. I was shaking as I drove to the lab.

I have to tell you, I hate going to those labs. I'm always afraid as I look around the room that I am going to come out with something worse than I went in with. And why is everyone so old in there? As I was standing in line I figured the median age in the room was probably seventy two.

She gave me the results and I folded them up and ran to my car. I couldn't read them in front of the geriatric crowd. Then once I was in the car I had to turn on the heater full blast because I was shivering and shaking with fear. I thought, why did I have to do this? Why couldn't I just wait until Thursday when my husband would be sitting with me as we listen to the doctor read these numbers off?

Anyway, I almost cried when I opened the paper back up. My numbers went from 172 on Tuesday to 822 on Friday. They like to see the numbers double between 60-66 hours and I'm doubling around 30 hours according to those two tests. Do you hear harps playing and angels singing? Stop, listen very carefully, I know you will hear them like I do. That elation lasted for all of about forty five seconds.

Ohmygod those numbers are really high. What could be the cause of really high numbers like that? I know, molar pregnancy! Please, dear God, do not let this be a molar pregnancy. Those are harder to diagnose and take longer to recover from, and I do not know if I have it in me to go through that. So of course, I was jonesin' all day to get home and look online to read every possible published piece of information on molar pregnancies.

People, it does not look good. I don't think I have a molar pregnancy. I'm just saying, at this point, I'm too freaked out to enjoy this pregnancy yet. It seems like each day I get through one more minor hurdle and then I create a larger one to get through the next.

So, I'm not really sure how I feel. Am I excited? A little. I'm too much of a realist to let myself get too excited. Am I scared? Absofrickenlutely. Are you kidding me? I'm scared that this, my first shot at motherhood is going to be dashed. Am I emotional? Youbetcha. It doesn't help that amongst all my other angst I have these crazy hormones coursing through my body. Am I drained from all my fretting? Ask my husband, he hasn't gotten any for five days. Poor guy. This has to be just as hard on him.

The Internet Stinks

I'm addicted. I can't stop searching the internet and reading all of the potentially  negative things that can happen with my pregnancy. There are a couple of blogs that I read regularly, and one of them is the tale of woe for a woman that endured several unsuccessful IVF's along with several miscarriages. One of them being ectopic, of course. My nightmare.

Of course, a few differences between myself and this woman- I never had Chlamydia. You are at higher risk for an ectopic if you've ever contracted Chlamydia or had PID. But the thing is, I just can't stop over-analyzing this.

I can't be happy. I'm scared to death that I will get my hopes up and Thursday they will all come crashing down as I meet with my doctor and find out the all important betas didn't double appropriately. I am a total trainwreck. And I'm an internet addict. Which makes it worse. I cannot find anything positive enough to satisfy my irrational fears. Everything I have found is negative or ambiguous about the fate of my initial beta, my progesterone level, and my cramping in early pregnancy.

Speaking of cramping, it has noticeably decreased. Like last night it only happened once- at 5am- but it was so mild I was able to fall back asleep. And I don't think I have cramped even once during daylight hours today. I do feel bloated, but that was probably because I just ate a giant bagel sandwich.

Breasts still tender? Check.

So I have one thing going for me. Approximately 93.5 hours left until I can see my doctor and he can either put my mind at ease or crash my entire world. There's something to look forward to. Who would have thought that I would be begging my body to continue cramping?

The Wait is Going to Kill Me

I have four more sleeps until I get to see my doctor for my initial visit. I'm pretty sure he's just going to poke and prod, ask some questions, maybe take some blood, and then tell me that he won't have any answers and I will have to come back in two more weeks. Although I am going to do my very best to try to force him to at least do a TV Ultrasound. (trans-vaginal but I was trying to be polite) I really want him to take a look and make sure that this little bugger stuck in the appropriate place, just to alleviate my fears of the ectopic pregnancy.

However, it is getting harder and harder to play it off. I'm not a good liar. Last week I played off the cramps at work as PMS. Thursday night at a managers conference that I attended I gave away my drink tickets under the pretense that I was already dehydrated with a cold sore the size of Texas on my lip and I didn't want to exacerbate it. Friday night was easy- it was just my husband and I so no creative stories were required. However, last night, Saturday night, I'm pretty sure that my cover was blown.

My husbands best friend came over for dinner. Usually whenever we all get together much drinking ensues. Most of the time we run out of beer completely and then switch to the hard stuff. Also most of the time we wake up with raging hangovers the next day. That's just how it goes when we get together with him. I thought I was going to get off easy because he came over so late in the night- around 7:30. I was also still wearing my pajamas and glasses from the two and a half hour nap that I had just woken from.

However, he chose last night to introduce us to pink bra girl. (I'll tell that story another time) Anyway, she comes over around ten pm, and at this point the drinking is in full effect. I'm sitting at the breakfast counter doing my Soduko puzzle with a glass of water. Not to be a party pooper or anything. They decide they want to go in the hot tub. Great. First I'm not drinking, then I'm not going in the hot tub? He is going to know!

I couldn't really make any good excuses about why I wasn't drinking and not hot-tubbing without drawing attention to myself so I just said I wasn't up for it. Red Flag! Red Flag! I did go out to the hot tub with them and stick my feet in. I played beer wench and ran in and out of the house for refills as well as increased and decreased the water temperature at their request. Fortunately, no one has said anything yet. I just know our friend and he's pretty astute. I'm not going to be able to hide this from him very long. Hurry up critical first trimester!!! At least, hurry up until the appointment that we can see the heartbeat.

We've only told one person so far- my beloved baby sister. She bought me the Fertility Kokopelli and she wishes on Padiddles for me to have children so I felt I should honor her by being the first. But don't tell my mom because I don't want her feelings to get hurt. We are planning (somewhat optimistically) that as soon as we confirm my betas are doubling appropriately AND we can see the heartbeat via TV Ultrasound that we are going to tell my immediate family.

My husbands immediate family will all be at our house in March for his dads surprise 65th birthday so we plan to tell them all at that time. And then we don't plan to tell anyone else (including my boss if I can help it) until we make it through the first trimester. According to several different calculators online that will be somewhere around April 13.

That is, if the wait doesn't kill me.

Trying not to be paranoid

I can't help it. I'm a classic Type A. I worry about everything, especially things that are not within my control. So I had to go yesterday for my second blood test to confirm that my beta levels are doubling. The hard part is that they won't have an answer until Tuesday. The worst part is that I can't wait that long.

I keep googling for every possible combination of "normal beta levels in early pregnancy", "beta and progesterone levels", "cramping in early pregnancy", "is it safe to dye my hair during early pregnancy?". Actually, that last one was only a quick search. I already knew the answer.

Google is getting tired of me checking and rechecking. Pretty soon instead of saying that 2,490,265 matches were found it is going to say "You've already read everything we have. Go to bed"

And I keep waiting for every little cramp and twinge. Was that on the right side? Or somewhere in the middle? Are my breasts still tender? Shouldn't they hurt more? Was my first beta level normal or not? Do I have a chance with this? My husband is probably ready to lock himself in the bathroom and wait for our first appointment on Thursday.

Interesting website that I did find though, when curious about beta levels and how others have fared- you can check out www.betabase.info . Of course, it is all data that has been input by individual users, but still. I found it to be reassuring, at least somewhat.

Since I relied so heavily on the fertility kokopelli to get me pregnant I might as well tell you that I believe in the Chinese Gender Chart for predicting the sex of my baby. It's a boy.

Initial Tests Indicate That I AM Pregnant

So there are things that I love and hate about my doctors office. I think I am going to hate the receptionist. And I think she is going to hate me too. I went for my blood test on Tuesday and the phlebotomist told me the results would be in on Wednesday. They open at eight am. I was generous, I waited until 8:26 to call. That is more than enough time to boot your computer, chat with your coworkers, and get a cup of coffee. Now get your ass working already.

Anyway, I get the receptionist on the phone and I sweetly tell her that I am looking for the results from my blood test from the day before. Instant attitude. "Those take two or three days to come back, ma'am."

Excuse me? Do I sound like a ma'am? I'm rethinking my sweet approach here. So I tell her in a nice but firm voice, "Oh, well the phlebotomist told me that they would have them back today". She apparently re-thought her approach too because the next thing she tells me is that even if they were to come back that day they don't ever get them that early in the day.

In the snarkiest tone I could muster up I asked, "Well then, what time of day do you get them so that I can call back around then?"

"Please hold."

Now I'm wondering if it was such a good idea to piss her off. She holds the keys to my file. Two minutes later my nurse gets on the phone. "Your results were positive, congratulations!"

No, really? I asked her what my numbers were and I hope she wasn't making them up. She said my beta hcg was 172 and my progesterone was 30.6. She told me the progesterone was really good- and that they couldn't tell me anything about my hcg until I repeated the test a few days later.

So today was a few days later. Due to work constraints I wasn't able to go for the follow up test yesterday like I would have liked. I went today. And I had to go to the independent lab because my doctor believes that every Friday should be a half day. So I ask the independent phlebotomist when the results are going to be in. The standard response- two to three days. Since Monday is a holiday I think I will start calling on Tuesday morning. Right around 8:26am.

The line is still there!

I'm addicted to that positive line. I peed on another stick this morning just for the hell of it. And it was much darker and thicker today, so maybe I'm still pregnant! I'm trying to stop myself from running through the potential negatives. Last night when I woke up with terrible period cramps I got online. I love and hate the internet. I can look up anything at the touch of a button but I can also find things I don't like and I don't have any way to shut them out.

So last night it was saying that cramping pain in the early trimester (especially on one side) could be the sign of an ectopic or tubal pregnancy. Noooooooo! I did have cramping on one side last night but then later in the night it was general cramping. Note, something else to stalk doctor about.

I'm so excited that I won't even let this giant cold sore keep me down. It started yesterday but I couldn't take any Valtrex and now I know for at least the next nine months I better take darn good care of my lips so that I don't have to deal with these!

Oh yeah, and today is tax day for us. I'm also excited because I've worked up some preliminary numbers and we are getting money back. Of course, it's already spent. I bought that boatload of furniture over the last couple of weeks. But still. Now I have one last room to furnish. I'm not going to jinx myself by even looking at baby furniture yet.

So, here's to hoping that the doctors office calls and my numbers are out of the park. I'm worried about my progesterone level as it was low last time they checked. But one thing at a time, first I have to get the results from them. I've blocked off a spot right before lunch that I can go to their office if they haven't been responsive. They are going to hate me. Especially pregnant me.

Pregnant! Maybe?

So it is quarter to midnight, I needed to share and here I am. I'm mortified that my husband may have heard the sound of the computer turning on, and what is with that extra loud noise it makes at startup? Does that get louder when you are trying to be sneaky or what? I'm typing slower so that I can make less noise with the keys, as if that will help.

I have to start at the beginning of my day. It's V-day. Not really a day that we go out of our way to celebrate. I mean, we'll do the obligatory small gift, usually something sexual, but we aren't over-the-toppers. So I woke up this morning and with one eye open and the other still asleep I grabbed a First Response and headed into the bathroom.

It started off like every other First Response I have used so I had no expectations. But then, about thirty seconds in, a faint pink line appeared. Whoa there. Other eye, WAKE UP. I need you both to focus and work together here. Are there really two pink lines? No, close eyes. Start over. Open. Two pink lines still? Ok, wait, maybe the shaking hand is skewing the results. I set it on the floor to read it better. Now it's too far away to see, that faint pink line was pretty faint.

I picked up this pregnancy test like it was a piece of gold or a rare artifact. I cradled it in both hands so that I wouldn't drop it. I went back into the bedroom and asked my husband if I could turn on the light and have him look at something. Of course, he does the one eye thing too. I think I learned it from him. But he has the ability to shoot one eyebrow up high while the other stays in place. I can't do that yet. At this point his eyebrow goes so far into his forehead I think it is going to become part of his hairline. Now I imagine him mentally telling his eyes to do the same thing I did minutes earlier.

He utters, "What is that?". He clearly is no expert at pee sticks. So I ask him, "What do you see here? Can you see two lines or just one?"

"Umm, two? No, one? No, two?" Now I know he doesn't have both eyes open and he also is not fully awake. He doesn't know the correct answer so he is guessing to make me happy. I scoot him over into the middle of the bed and climb up next to him. I'm shaking so hard I can't control it. I tell him, "I think this means maybe we are pregnant."

At this point, the line is just visible enough to know it is a line but not as dark as the control line, leaving you to wonder. I have been assured by my other infertile friends that a line is a line, no matter how faint. I actually think I may have used that same rationale with one of the girls on that board not that long ago. But somehow I'm not fully reassured.

In complete shock my husband says "But we weren't even trying!". And I'm guessing that, my friends, was just what we needed. He flips back through all of the partying we've done over the last thirty days, I'm also remembering and trying to forget. I love my friend Yvonne, who coined the phrase "a drunken fumble". She once told me that many people do get pregnant during a drunken fumble, although I didn't really think we would be one of them.

Ok, so back to the faint pink line. I told my husband that we would just have to wait a few days and try it again to see if the line gets darker or if my period comes in the mean time. I can tell already, I'm not going to be a great mom when it comes to sticking to timelines. I called my doctor's office first thing this morning and asked them if I could go in for a blood pregnancy test. I'm waiting for the results from that, which should be back to my dr tomorrow. I have already planned out my stalking plan to reach my dr's office for the results. I will drive down there if necessary.

Do you remember me telling you that I buy these pee sticks in bulk? So I still had one left but I stopped at the store and bought two more, just in case. I guess I was thinking that maybe the ones I had were faulty and because they were all from the same lot I should start fresh.

I got home from work and peed on another stick. Now, I had really convinced myself that I wasn't going to see a second line, faint or not. I am so used to drilling myself about those negative tests that I have given up taking them at any other time of day besides first morning urine. Here it was, six pm and I had just downed a bottle of water to boot. I had probably diluted my urine to straight water as it was so I wasn't expecting much. And again, two pink lines. Again the second line was not as bold as the first, but heck, a line is a line.

We were so excited we stuck to our normal V-day ritual and went to IHOP for dinner. They have the best pot roast. But that's another story. So we got home, enjoyed a celebratory romp, and fell asleep. Now, why am I up typing away at midnight?

I just had the absolute worst period-like cramps I can remember. I freaked out, ran straight to the bathroom and checked to see if my worst nightmare came true. So far, it has not. So I said a little prayer, although I only pray when I need God. I don't want him to be mad at me and to punish me for that. I also don't want him to be mad and punish me because my sister bought me a fertility kokopelli when she was in Sedona and I gave it a kiss goodnight tonight. I would kiss God too if he were right next to my bed.

So as of right now, we are MAYBE PREGNANT. I am trying to think positive. This WILL work out. I AM pregnant. I will NOT have any complications. But for right now, I am scared to death. I have to just try and make it through each and every day, one day at a time. Right now, I just want to make it to tomorrow without my period crashing my party. I want my drs office to call me first thing in the morning with GOOD news. I am finding that for someone that has been so blase about everything I am now very much concerned, scared, happy, unsure, and anxious. Stick with me folks, I promise to share each and every moment as they come.

Monday Blue-hoos

I'm always absolutely exhausted on Mondays. It's especially hard after a weekend on the go and yet nothing really got accomplished. I didn't get any laundry done. Sorry sweetie, you'll have to wear the boxers with the elastic worn out. Oh yeah, and it's ok to wear blue socks with black shoes, no one will even notice those.

I've been pretty edgy lately. I am chalking it up to the full moon. I start to feel that thing coming about four days ahead of time. Plus I notice that people tend to get a little frantic around that time. It makes me crazy.

So I'm tired, and I'm edgy. Oh yeah, and a little moody. I could cry at anything, and I pretty much have. I feel like I'm at that pre-pubescent stage again. Manic and not really understanding why. Of course, I'm sure I can imagine why. Every month, about a week before I expect my period I start getting this way.

I'm looking for every little sign that I could be pregnant, even if I have been trying to convince myself that we aren't trying anymore. I go out (nearly every month) and buy the big Max Pack of home pregnancy tests. Then I start taking them in hopeful desperation about four days before I expect the red tide. And of course, they are always negative. I'm never happy until I've used every single one in the pack.

I started this little ritual on Saturday. Negative. I will do it again tomorrow. And probably (as this always happens) I will do it once more, on the day that my period will show up. Like the final nail in the coffin.

If I wasn't such a cheap ass chicken #$%^ I would just schedule an appointment with an RE and get moving. But I keep thinking, maybe next month. Hell, it's gotten me through two years, hasn't it? Anyway, if I keep spending money the way I do then I won't be able to afford to have kids once I've gotten through the cost of getting pregnant!

On a side note, I'm supposed to be sitting in here organizing our paperwork for my husband to take to the accountant on Wednesday. I can't help it, I'm too tired to look at any more numbers. I'll procrastinate. I'll do it tomorrow night. That worked out pretty well for the three tons of rock out front. Still sitting out there. I'm still trying to find some friends to help us with that.

I think I'm going to head to bed. I have no shame in saying that I plan to be asleep by 8:30.

Update on the Chore List

So, let's see, what have I accomplished halfway through my weekend? I did attend the fundraiser. It really hit home with me to see children with heart problems and their families. How do I explain this? These are kids with heart problems and families that have endured stress beyond belief as well as the financial and emotional toll, yet they all looked so carefree yesterday. I was moved beyond words. It really did put the importance of family into perspective for me, even though I have been so flip about it lately. I'm adding this fundraiser to my annual calendar along with the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure.

Ok, where was I? Oh yeah, chores. I did go to the furniture clearance sale. I bought a ton of stuff for really cheap. So did my sister. Then we had to go rent a U-haul to get it all home because the concept behind a clearance sale is that they don't schedule deliveries. So picture me, fresh from a 3k walk in my exercise clothes with my sister, who had a dreadful hangover, almost running through this warehouse with "SOLD, I'M GOING TO A NEW HOME" stickers. We were slapping stickers on anything and everything like children running through a toystore with no budget. We actually did pretty good, price wise. Sure, the furniture had some dings and scratches but it was at one time really high end stuff so we didn't care. The problem was that after we purchased our furniture we had to arrange to get it all home.

We were at the local U-haul store (which by the way, had about six little U-haul trucks parked out front) trying to rent just a small truck. The salesman said those weren't available, and neither was the 17 foot truck. Nope. Only had the 24/26 foot trucks available. I was mortified. How was I going to drive that bohemoth? Well, ok, it's not like I had much choice. My husband was duly waiting at home for the other furniture to arrive, the stuff that I had paid full price for several weeks ago at this same furniture dealer.

Off we go in this 24 foot truck, seat a-bouncing, brakes whining, transmission that downshifted through three gears in three seconds as braking. It was a little comical actually. I'm a small framed person and so is my sister. We pull up at this warehouse and they tell us to back this thing in. What? Are you kidding me? No, just carry that super heavy furniture an extra twenty four feet to the back of my truck please. About forty other customers watched as I jumped in this massive truck and backed it in. With a little guidance, of course. When I jumped out of the truck a small round of applause broke out and I felt a little like Mighty Mouse.

They load us up. Good thing we got the big truck because it really did take almost all of that space for everything we bought (not stacking anything on top). We get my husband and two of his friends to meet us at my sisters house, where they have to carry all her stuff upstairs, around a little switchback landing. It was like Ross on "Friends", Pivot, Piiivvvvooottt, PIVOT! I tried to stay out of the way.

That was about the end of what I have accomplished on my chore list. And because of me, my husband didn't get any of that rock moved yesterday either. So now instead of having two days to accomplish ten things, I have one day to accomplish eight. I'm pretty sure this isn't realistic. Where is Mighty Mouse when you need him?

One Day at a Time

You probably think I'm talking about some alcoholics anonymous program don't you? I laugh, because for me, taking one day at a time is just my way of making it through the week to yet another glorious weekend. I cram so much into my week that I'm exhausted and can't wait for the weekend. I want to spend my weekend resting, relaxing.

Yet, the weekend gets here and I have so many things that didn't get done during the week I spend the whole weekend running around. Monday morning comes and I think I'm more tired than before! Anyway, I'm such a freak that I actually write lists of the things that I need to do on my weekend. 

I usually get my list started on Monday but this week I'm a late bloomer.

WEEKEND CHORES:

1. Attend the Childrens Heart Foundation fundraiser.

2. Hit the tent sale at the furniture store. Clearance stuff. I'm salivating.

3. Move three tons of rock from the front yard to the back. Remind me again why we aren't just hiring someone?

4. Pick up six cases of beer and three tubes of Ben Gay. Find some friends. That's alot of damn rock.

5. Erect cheesy shelves in the garage to store more crap. We had too much crap for the last house so we bought a bigger house. Now we have more crap.

6. Arrange the new living room furniture. Run right out and buy a bunch of accessories to go with the furniture. Rack up the American Express. Hide the bill from my husband. That's a big chore.

7. Finish hanging the drapes that I made two months ago.

8. Actually DO the fourteen loads of laundry that have accumulated. Not just pick through for the socks and underwear.

9. Mop the two thousand square feet of tile that we have. Yeah right, I'll never make it this far down the chore list.

10. Take a nap, next week is going to be very busy.

Five Bucks

So I really should tell the world that I am a bargain shopper and I don't care. I hunt for the craziest of deals and tend to buy things that I don't really need just because they are such a great deal. I didn't realize that I was doing this but some friends kindly pointed out to me that whenever I was asked how much something cost it was always around five bucks.

They were right. Everything in my world was five bucks, or around five bucks. Somehow though, I got away from the five buck deals and started paying full price for things. I guess just because I could, I don't know. So anyway, lately my newest craze is pushing to find deals that are so crazy no one would ever believe them.

For example, I bought Halloween decorations in December. I couldn't help it, they were NINETY PERCENT OFF. I mean, really. I bought fifty bucks worth of stuff. All for five bucks. And it's just a natural habit any time I go shopping to head first for the clearance aisle. I didn't realize that everyone else didn't shop that way until I went shopping with some friends. I mean, you should have seen the look of horror on their faces. The clearance aisle? Those are things from the end of last season!

Anyway, the reason I am even talking about this is because I just feel like today was bargain day and I have to share. We recently moved into a new home. With our new home I insisted on all new furniture. We spent some serious cash on our furniture- nothing was a deal- but nonetheless we went back for some more furniture. And that was when I found their sneaky, hidden-in-the-back clearance center.

I was looking for a coffee table to go with the four new leather armchairs I had ordered. (Full price, of course) I stumbled across a warehouse looking room in the back of the store. I walked in, prepared to duck back out claiming I was searching for a restroom if reprimanded for walking into the "employee only" section. What I found was absolute heaven. Furniture in all sorts of disarray- cushions missing from sofas and tables with no legs. Scratches, dents, dings, you name it, it was back there. Some of it appeared to be salvageable. But the one thing I couldn't believe was a sign on the wall- "Table Tops 799".

Keep in mind, I had purchased a formal dining room table from this very same furniture store back in July. They had my table top right there in that warehouse room with one minor scratch. I thought it was 79.99 and someone was a poor stenographer. I was getting a little ripped off that I paid full price for mine when I could have bought it for 79.99. I looked at the sign again. It said "Table Tops 7.99" As in seven dollars and ninety nine cents? How many do you have? Six? I'll take them all. I don't care that they don't have legs, I can't even buy firewood this cheap! And why the hell didn't someone tell me this room was back here when I was ordering up a truckload of furniture?

So anyway, we bought a round table top for eight bucks. (Inflation from the five) We brought it home, placed in in our empty front room and gazed at the beauty of it. Never mind the fact that it didn't have any legs. Or that it was meant for a dining room and we intended to use it in the living room. Brush aside the fact that we are good at starting projects but never finishing them. And don't even think about the fact that we have no idea what we are going to use for the base.

Now this, my eight dollar coffee table, is a real conversation starter. I envision that the next time someone asks me if we plan to have kids I will just ask them if they knew that the furniture store has a stellar clearance center and that we purchased our coffee table for just eight bucks. Nooo, really? Eight bucks? All thoughts of pursuing the childless conversation will evaporate from their mind as they too envision the bargains they could find in my furniture store clearance center.

And I will just smile to myself knowing that five bucks will get me a lot farther in life than it does for most.

I'm diggin' it.

Yeah, I'm diggin' this blog. Love it. Much better than the last one. I can actually get on the website! Score one for this site.

We went to an annual Super Bowl party yesterday with some old college friends. Some have grown up (like us) and others haven't. Either way it's always entertaining to see the two mix. Of course, you can't attend this Super Bowl party without doing Sake Bombs. I set myself a little limit of two and promptly exceeded that limit. I can see why some people can't diet. I can't limit my alcohol intake. Although I am very proud of myself, I did do five sake bombs but I also drank water all night instead of washing down that nasty rice wine taste with beer.

It's always hard to go to those types of gatherings though. You know the whole conversation starter thing... So, when are you going to have kids? Do you even want to have any kids? I have several standard responses. They are like those old "Choose Your Own Adventure" books. The ones where you can make two or three different choices and each choice has a different outcome. I used to love those things. Do they even still make them? Oh, off on a tangent. So here are the different choices for my adventure.

Question, "When are you planning to have kids?" Answers (depending on mood):

1. Five more years. Wink.

2. Kidsh, who needs kidsh, I've got enough alcohol to keep me warm and fzzzzzzy.

3. Oooh. Good question, we hadn't really thought about it.

4. Do you ever really PLAN to have kids? I thought you just planned NOT to have kids.

5. Did you need a refill on your drink? Because I'm heading that way.

Question, "Do you even want to have any kids?" (sometimes this one makes me a little snarky)

1. Yes, I like baby goats very much.

2. I've got two cats that I can barely remember to feed every night. I don't know if kids are a great idea.

3. Oooh. Now there's a thought.

4. Sure, I'd pop out a kid any day.

5. Nah. I'm too selfish to have kids. (this one usually throws people for a loop)

Some of these are great conversation-enders, that's for sure. I got a few of those glazed-over stares last night. I just threw back my head and laughed the most phony laugh I've ever come up with. Then they know that I really am going off the deep end and that usually puts an end to the conversation. Maybe next time I should respond, "You know, kids, I would have them but there's this thing. I mean, my husbands semen are all good soldiers but I think I have an inhospitable uterus. Do you have any recommendations?"

Snarky. And loving it.

A Fresh Start

So I'm starting from scratch. After three days of not being able to access my blog on Seo-Blog.org I have finally decided to pony up and pay for a blog hosting service. This better be worth it.

Since I'm starting from scratch I'll have to tell you all the basics so far. Sorry to the girls that have already read this (about three times) but I have to do it all again. You know, I'm a little OCD like that. I have this little routine and if it's disrupted then my whole world spins crazy. But you probably already knew that about me.

Ok, back to the basics. I met my husband eight years ago. Whoa, I hadn't thought of that in years until now. Anyway, we met at a college football game that I happened to be attending with my boyfriend at the time. Said boyfriend was quite the social butterfly so he parked me near the safe guy- you know- that cousin that got brought along but didn't know anyone and therefore hung out on the fringe of the crowd. I hung out with the safe guy at that football game and actually had a decent time. The next football game I knew I could look for the safe guy and at least have someone to hang out with. So a month goes by and I'm pretty sure that this boyfriend isn't going to be my final destination. I'm a woman of action, so I move on.

Of course, I'm not a rebound woman, so I don't even consider safe guy as a prospect. But another month goes by and I figure, hell, he cooks and I'm starving to death on my life after college paycheck. So I start to hang out with him. I don't think I had ever eaten so good in my life! Before you know it, I'm staying the night at his house (totally innocent, you have my word) just because he lived kind of far from me, and let's face it, I could barely afford to put the gas in my car to get there. So here we are, three months after we've met and I decide, it's ok to date this guy. Still totally innocent (although how he made it even that long without putting on the pressure I'll never know) we dated for two months before it hit both of us- this was really going somewhere.

I could say the rest is history and leave it to your imaginations but I'm not good at stopping once these fingers get moving so I'm going to keep going. At least until my food catches fire on the stove for my lack of attention to the other things I started before this.

Let's see, where were we? We have now made it to February 1999. We started dating officially, and since it was official we also started sleeping together. Now there is information you need to know. The funny thing is, we were both absolutely broke but we always, always had a budget for birth control. I look back now and think of all the bucks we could have saved if only we had known...

I went with him to meet his entire family in August of 1999 and he proposed. I was so shocked that it took me a full sixty seconds to answer. In that time period I think he ran himself through every negative reaction possible and by the end he was sweating and shaking worse than before he proposed. Needless to say, I knew that I had found my soulmate and I said yes. Actually, I had to whisper because I couldn't find my voice. We got married in August of 2000 and it really has been like a honeymoon ever since.

We are one of those sick couples that truly enjoy each others presence. We don't have much to argue about. I tell everyone we do argue about spaghetti sauce. I was raised on homemade italian sauce and he digs the Prego. But if that's all we have to worry about then I'm doing just fine here.

The next few years were a struggle for us after we got married. We were flat broke and I was trying to dig out of my mountain of student debt. It was a nightmare. I don't think students should be allowed to get credit cards, period. They should have to pass some sort of financial planning course and even then I'm not sure how I feel about it. Anyway, it took me almost 18 months of working 60+ hours a week but I did it. We bought a starter home. Life was good.

Of course, people have that tendency to ask, "So, when are you having kids?". Why do they have to ask that? Can't we come up with another conversation starter? I'm ok with discussing the weather, politics, religion, what you ate for dinner last night... Why is that question always a staple in conversations conducted with married people?

Our standard answer was "five more years". Even if a year went by, we never subtracted that year, it was a rolling five years. I almost had myself talked out of the whole kid thing. And then one day I snapped. I don't know what the motivating factor was but I decided that we needed to have kids. And much to my surprise, my husband agreed!

That was two years ago. This will be my outlet so strap on a seatbelt and join me for the ride. Some days are high, some days are low. Either way, I guarantee you will experience raw emotion at its finest. At least (hopefully) with this blog I will be able to log on at any time, as will you. I guess it's like anything else in life, you get what you pay for.