sutton016

Sometimes, I think of the “ Working Towards Conceiving ” as one big board game. You roll the dice, you pick up cards (“ Insemination Failed – go back 3 ” or “ You Actually Know When You’re Ovulating This Month – Go ahead 1 ”), you very often get sent back to start but hopefully, somehow, you will end the game knocked up and/or holding a baby. Mind you – I’m not going to actually market this game as losing it would be too sucky but you get the idea. Along the way, while I play “ So You Want To Have A Baby! ”, there have been events that have occurred that just seem to fit into a board game mentality. People, places and things that seem so silly that only Mattel or Parker Brothers could have come up with them. These days, it’s the fact that very close friends of ours can’t figure out what to name their 3-month-old baby. Believe it or not (I know I still don’t), I’ve read my share of articles on “baby name regret”. This is when someone names their kid a name, puts it on the birth certifi...

Lately, I’ve been finding myself waking up in the middle of the night with thoughts of doubt… I should have gotten a second opinion sooner.... I should have started trying to get pregnant the second we got married.... I should have told more of my friends about our struggle.... I should lose forty pounds… I should have asked for my money back after seeing AVATAR... Thoughts like this are not helpful to either my outlook or my sleep. Aside from the fact that there’s nothing I can do to change anything that’s already happened, the word “should” automatically implies guilt and guilt, in case you didn’t know, is a wasted emotion. This however isn’t stopping me from “should-ing” all over myself… Yesterday was the work baby shower I helped plan (discussed in an earlier post: http://the2weekwait.blogspot.com/2010/05/infertile-plans-baby-shower.html ). I tried to figure out some way NOT to go; an imaginary doctor’s appointment with an imaginary ailment, call in sick (when will companies start ...

At one of my old office jobs, there was a woman in tech support named Miao. She had moved to America from China only a few years earlier and her English was limited. Whenever anyone called her with any computer issue whether it was related to email, Microsoft word, the keyboard or the entire computer in general, she’d always have the exact same response: “ POWER OFF! POWER ON! ” and then she’d promptly hang up the phone. The amazing part is these four words were incredibly effective. Nine times out of ten, it would fix your problem without any explanation. I don’t understand how or why but it really doesn’t matter. You can’t argue with results. After getting a second opinion, I am officially in what I can only describe as “Polyp Purgatory”. I’m in an intermediate state waiting to become polyp-free and possibly reproductively functional. Maybe it’s less like a purgatory and more like a holding pattern? Any which way, working towards getting pregnant has been replaced with working toward...

Let’s review, shall we? After about a year and a half of more unprotected sex than a New Jersey teenager, three failed inseminations (including one involving a Starbucks bathroom… don’t ask), many expensive ovulation prediction kits, sperm friendly lubricants, Clomid, primrose oil, baby aspirin, cough syrup, desperation, thousands of dollars, periods of depression and a fantastically failed IVF, I’m still not pregnant. There has been no possible explanation… until perhaps now. Dr. Smith (Not his real name. He is Italian though so maybe I should call him Dr. Smithoziti) is an older man and I’ve always thought very fondly of him. I had been seeing him for years as just my gynecologist and I always appreciated the intimacy of his office. It’s literally him, his receptionist, one bathroom and about two magazines. Truly. The same two magazines no matter what year it is. You don’t get lost in the shuffle, you get everyone’s undivided attention and you can read your favorite articles over and...

Do you remember in fifth grade when they tested your physical ability? You’d run, you’d do sit ups, and they’d try to force you to climb up a rope (for whatever damn reason). Do you remember the chin ups? I could never, ever do chin ups. I still can’t. I vividly remember just hanging there while my gym teacher looked at me with her arms crossed waiting for me to do something. I would offer her one amusing anecdote after another but that didn’t seem to suffice. Typically, after five minutes or so of some quality hanging, she’d let me release the bar and drop defeated to the floor. This weekend in general, I was in the serious throws of PMS. Every symptom was there: Cramps, backache, headaches, sleeping poorly, craving chocolate and moodier than a bipolar patient off their meds. Even though we genuinely want to take the summer to have crazy monkey sex, lose some weight (which I’m hoping you can do through the crazy monkey sex) and regroup in general, I still can't help but get sad wh...