where has the time gone?

Napping, cooking, swimming, cleaning, preparing, processing, erranding, meeting with my doula, spending time with Manny. And napping.

Dear me, I think this may be a record for time between posts. So much for thinking that once I was off work, I would write more. Partly I’ve been cocooning myself as much as possible, preparing the space in my heart for what is about to happen to my life, to our life. It has taken all this time to bring some of the heavier stuff to light. I tend to work that way – the sign of a true introvert, I think – in that I just need a lot of time alone doing what feels right in the moment, not pushing anything too hard, not journalling, or thinking, or analyzing, but instead just being. And then insight will come, and things will shake loose, and the way will open up.

And the insights have come, finally. For the entire pregnancy until this week, I wasn’t feeling anything about the donor issues except gratitude and happiness that we were finally getting our chance. But on some level, I think I was always waiting for things to flare up, knowing there were things that were not completely resolved or at least that there are parts of this journey we have yet to make our way through. More the latter, really – that this is going to be a lifelong journey for us as a family. Not to say that I think it’s going to be a problem or a struggle – because I really don’t believe that – but more that our having used donor sperm to create this baby is part of our story as a family now.

So this week I’ve done a little bit of opening up to what this means to me right now, and I guess what I’ve discovered is that I have some fears about how we will connect as a family of three. In my heart of hearts, I have a lot of faith that all will unfold beautifully and that we will figure it out together with ease and grace. But there are still questions there, some vulnerability, some fear. I don’t know if it’s the hormones or a sign of my tremendous spiritual growth (the hormones, almost certainly!) but for right now, once I was able to see all of this with some clarity and could find words to express all of it, I feel really at peace with the vulnerability. I don’t need to figure it all out now or have any more certainty that it will all work itself out.

I’ve also got some anxiety about how we will handle the secret/not-secret of this baby’s origins. Lots of people close to us know, but lots don’t. I’m not sure how long that will be sustainable, but at the same time, I’m quite sure that certain people will be better off not knowing and that Manny and I and the baby will be better off with them not knowing. It just feels weird to go into this time of excitement and anticipation and joy and openness and vulnerability without being completely honest. Because I am so explosively proud of us, of our decision, of how we have worked through it all so far, and most of all, of this new life who will be joining us soon. And a secret just doesn’t seem to fit with all that right now.

Within a few weeks, my mind will be otherwise occupied and fussing over these questions will be put aside for a while. Which is fine, because there is no rush to figure them out. It feels good to know that – that I don’t have to make peace with every single part of this process before we can move forward. I remember realizing that around the time we were making the decision to pursue DI, and it is good to remember it now.

How’s by all of you? Anything you’re feeling peaceful about at the moment?

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quiet, love, and photos

Quiet. Things are quiet. Despite the raging hot flashes and debilitating constipation I seem to get from the Clomid, things are quiet. I seem to have hit the off switch on my brain, and I don’t know how to turn it back on. I was wondering today whether I have become completely numb or whether I’ve just reached a perfect state of calm. Probably the former, but I guess I’ll take that over angst. I could use a break from angst. 

I head out of town tomorrow to see my nephew. He’s turning 5 tomorrow and I am the proudest Tantie ever. It seems like just yesterday I was watching him be born. And now he is a beautiful boy who loves me so much and sends me emails that he types himself (copying what his mom has written down, but still it’s pretty damn clever if you ask me.) Even though it sometimes hurts to realize how much time has passed and I still don’t have my own child, the love I have for him and for my other nephews does heal that longing to some extent. Truthfully, it heals and makes the longing even harder to bear, all at the same time. That love still heals, though. 

Had my scan today and will be doing our 6th IUI on Sunday. I’m glad they’re giving me an extra day – my follicle today was 19.2mm and my lining was 5.7mm, almost exactly the same as last month, but for whatever reason they told me to hold off on the trigger until tomorrow. My acupuncturist seems to think this is a good idea, too, and I was prepared to go in, guns blazing, today to advocate for this, and I did speak up for myself to suggest it, but I let them think it was all their idea. Ha. 

Think warm and fertile thoughts for me, dear internets. Hopefully I’ll find my brain’s switch this weekend and have something to write for you soon.  Here are some pictures to occupy you in the meantime – the first is of my backyard after a bunch of snow a few weeks ago, and the second is my new haircut. Which haircut I can honestly say that I LUUUUUUUUUUURRRRVE.  

shooting up at work

Why yes, I did. I even did it in my belly instead of my thigh, just for a change. Now it’s itchy and I’m trying not to scratch. Good times. 

Had my scan this morning to find that despite my feeling crampy and bloated on the right side especially, my trusty left ovary has delivered the winner once again. A very tender 19.5 mm follicle – I was really wincing during the probulation this morning. My right side had 2 smaller ones (didn’t ask for the numbers), and my lining is at a fairly skinny 5.7, but since I’m not having my dIUI until tomorrow afternoon, they say not to worry about it as it will likely grow.  I’m not going to stress too much since there’s nothing I can do beyond whispering tender encouragement to my endometrium. Not to say I won’t do that, too, but I’m trying lately to not get caught up in the numbers. Knowing them just makes me crazy, and even though I’m compelled to ask for them anyway, I am clinging to the thought that lots of people get pregnant with a skinny lining, or a moderate follicle, or whatever, and nobody ever knows cause it happens mysteriously and in secret and spontaneously, without everybody and their dog peering in to get a look.  So there, numbers and purveyors of numbers. 

Manny has to be away for work tomorrow, so he won’t be with me for the IUI. I’m trying to think about who to ask to come with me – probably someone from my women’s group who knows the score. It’ll be weird not having Manny there, but my superstitious side is looking for things that will be different, and so I’m wondering if this will be what changes our luck so far. Also, we’re using a brand new donor with a proven track record of reported pregnancies, which our last donor didn’t have. I’m feeling very good and hopeful about it all. It was fun all over again picking the new donor – it’s sort of weird that it’s so much fun, but it is. Mostly we just laugh at the ones we would never pick, and the randomness of some of the things people include in their profiles. It went quicker this time – I guess we’re both more in tune with what we’re looking for, and more trusting of our instincts. And I’m also trusting Manny more that he’s not just doing what I want to keep me happy – that he’s expressing his own opinions, too. Which is a huge fucking relief, let me tell you. The power struggles over “Are you doing this because this is what you want or because you think it’s what I want?”  and “Why don’t you believe me when I say this is what I want?” and the subsequent hair-pulling-out-ing by yours truly and the “Well, if you had ever once disagreed with me about anything I might have a fucking half a clue that you are capable of standing up for your own desires, but since you never have, I’m constantly wondering whether I’m railroading you into a whole lot of immense life decisions” were exhausting. Really exhausting. Glad we seem to be past that for the moment. 

So tomorrow at 3:30 I will be being sperminated for hopefully the last time in a long while. Wish me luck, internets.

riding the clomid pony

Yes, I am. Today is day 6 of my cycle and day 5 on the clomid. For some reason my doctor does days 2-6 instead of 5-9 which seems to be the norm. Whatever. All I know is that I woke up twice in the night having hot flashes and have been getting them pretty regularly during the day. And I have the attention span of a gnat and a headache. Good thing my trusty pony knows the way through all these trials and tribulations. I’m really just along for the ride. 

I’m not hallucinating the whole pony thing, but it is kind of how Clomid seems to me, plodding along, enough side effects to know that something is happening, but it’s not like I’m gallopping along some windswept clifftop. Twice a day I take a little white pill with some hope that it is doing something, like performing a ritual I’ve not yet sorted out whether I believe in or not. I’ve developped a weird tic of needing to make sure it’s actually in my mouth before I take a sip of water, so I’ve got all these mental images now of my tongue with a white dot on it, reflected back at me in the glass fronts of my kitchen cupboards. 

For some reason, I’m feeling optimistic about this whole 2009 thing. I’ve never felt relieved to say goodbye to a year and start a new one. I’m taking that as a sign that good things are in store, for me and for all of us.

the tao of when things get fucked up

Thanks, all you fabulous readers, for your comments, thoughts and good wishes. Every single one of you has helped me feel better these last few days. Truly, there are no words other than: “I’m so grateful for each one of you.Thank you.”

Things are feeling better. I had acupuncture on Tuesday and she worked on my emotional points, and I saw my counsellor on Wednesday, who reminded me that the medical system sucks, big time. Yes, those were her words. I love her. It was a good reality check – that they have shut down their compassion because they are in a difficult situation and a stressful system, so it is nothing personal when they are jerks, and I am not the only one who gets hurt by the system and its lack of humanity. It’s not that it shouldn’t be different, but it just isn’t. For some reason, it helped to hear this, mostly in terms of the other thing I took from our session, which is to be like water – gentle, persistent, and strong, not letting the obstacles prevent me from getting where I need to go. (Hence the title of this post.) She told me to expect resistance, expect obstacles – but don’t let them define me or my situation. I need to think more creatively – maybe we can do an insemination at home, maybe they will treat me if I just return to doing unmedicated cycles that don’t need monitoring but instead rely on OPKs, or maybe I can just be in process and take another break and maybe there are blessings in that I just don’t see yet.

The way I’m feeling today is that I’ll probably do the latter. We have been so busy with our moving preparations (more on that later) that I just don’t feel like I have it in me today to work out anything with my clinic. I’m just tired. I know that getting them to agree to doing inseminations at home – just vaginal insemination, nothing fancy – would be a stretch. To say that they don’t seem particularly flexible would be an understatement. However, it would just be the cost of the samples and it’s no skin off their noses. So I haven’t made up my mind yet.

We also have to choose a new donor, as we are out of the samples we bought back in April, and since they didn’t work, there’s no reason to stick with that guy. He had no reported pregnancies, so maybe he’s a dud. This time we’re going to go with someone who has reported pregnancies – I hope we can find someone we feel good about, though. The first donor seemed so perfect, to both of us, and it was nice to feel some kind of connection to the donor, even just through the profile. We are going with open ID, so there is a very real possibility that our child will meet this person some day, and I’d really prefer it if I don’t think the guy is sort of a bonehead from the beginning. I guess people can change a lot in 18 years, but when someone can’t think of a favourite book,  that just says “boring” to me.

Other than that, I’m up to my eyeballs in packing, and we’re running out of newspaper to pack with. We’re aiming to get our house listed by Wednesday, and I am feeling confident that the house will look great by then. Friends are coming to help, and a lot of stuff is already packed into the little shipping container sitting in our back yard. In the past week, I’ve learned more about mortgages than I ever thought I could understand – I am a financial idiot, and know nothing about that stuff. But it turns out I’m not so dumb – I just needed a chance to learn. I shopped around and found us a way better deal than our current bank is giving us, and I’m happy about that. Gotta factor in the next major sperm purchase into the whole budget plan, so saving hundreds of bucks on our monthly mortgage payment is awesome news.

There you have it friends. I’m trying to be like water. Maintaining a heart of peace, but fighting for what I need.

I’ll keep you posted.

how a dog walk turns into a real estate transaction

So Sunday we were walking Lucky, and stumbled upon an open house right across the street from two of our good friends, and down the block from literally 4 more. And we figure what’s the harm in looking, right?

Yeah, right. So the house is great, and we leave thinking, “What’s the harm in talking to the bank and seeing what we could do?” So this week has spiralled into meetings with realtors, the bank, house appraisers and the like. We have a portable storage unit sitting in our backyard which is quickly being filled with absurd amounts of clutter, so we can list the house tomorrow or as soon as the sellers of the house we want accept a conditional offer. It’s a bit of a squeeze money wise, but we would never have to move again if we bought this other house. 

It’s all very exciting and exhausting right now. But it is a very good distraction from the following:

• I keep having pangs of very slight nausea.
• I am starving all the time and when I start to feel hungry, I need to eat immediately.
• I am tired all the time.
• I had cramping on Sunday and Monday.
• Mucus and other precious bodily fluids. Everywhere.
• If I don’t get my period, I will have to wait until day 35 for a beta. That will be November 14th, folks. There is no way I can wait that long without peeing on all kinds of sticks. I tend to err on the side of not PingOAS but this month will just have to be different. God, I hope it’s different. 

Between possibly moving  and possibly being pregnant, I’m not sure what I’m doing half the time. But I’m most certainly occupied.

the latest latest

Ok, dudes. Here’s me with my lovely new haircut. I’m so in love with it – I went to a new hairdresser today and she did such a good job. I was feeling guilty about breaking up with my last hairdresser, but no longer. This was a way better cut than I had been getting before, and I just felt like this woman today listened to me a lot more and was way more responsive. So hurrah! The way it is now is really easy to style, but I can also do it so it’s chunkier and more textured-looking and a bit more funky. As my mom said the other day, “I want a haircut that is funky but that I can preach at the cathedral in.” And although I’m not planning on delivering any sermons anytime soon (other than the informal, political, isn’t-Annacyclopedia-so-knowledgeable-and-wise-and-blessed-with-the-right-opinions-on-everything kind of sermons), I think this haircut meets both standards. And I am happy about that.

Here’s me yesterday with what appears to be a forehead made of solid gold. Alas, even with commodity prices tanking along with the rest of the economy, it is not solid gold, just very shiny and apparently at odds with the harsh overhead lighting of the office.

My problem with my hair is that if it’s long enough to be in a ponytail, it is in a ponytail, hence the frumptasticness of the second photo. I had been considering keeping it long because my flamenco recital is coming up next month, and long hair and flamenco kind of go well together, like yogurt and granola. But I just couldn’t handle it anymore, and now that it’s all chopped off, I’m so relieved. Nothing like a good haircut to make a girl feel all shiny and new.

So that is my glamorous life – cool hair, cool gadget (both photos were taken with the iPhone, by the way, although I don’t know how to upload them to the blog directly from the phone) and, although it’s not news to anyone, cool method of reproduction. I’m feeling so modern today that I scoff at anyone who conceives the usual way. Plain old sex? Ha! So inefficient and time consuming! I have the imported sperm delivered directly to the top of my uterus at exactly the right time! It is specially selected and purified, kind of like Fiji Water. Very prestigious, I tell you. It’s the must-have assisted conception method of the season.

I have to say that having the iPhone is making the wait a lot more bearable, just because I can’t seem to put the damn thing down and am therefore constantly distracted. I realized the other day, though, that the previous tries have all been rather light for me, and this one is certainly not. I have a lot more hope of this actually working, which comes with some of the fear I alluded to earlier this week, and I realized this time how much more I want this. Not that I didn’t want it before. But this time, I REALLY want it. I’m really feeling the pain of what the Buddhists call “wanting mind.” Just seeing very clearly how much suffering comes with attachment. But it’s not an attachment I’m working on releasing myself from anytime soon, just in case “The Secret” people are right and my thoughts do create my reality. Covering all bases, so I am.

My visualizations have certainly been aided by knowing that you lot were all holding me up on Wednesday and sending me and the cells virtual bearskin rugs and Barry White and fine wine and violins and stuff. I spent some time with Dr. Google the other day to get a clearer picture of the process of conception, and apparently, my embryo, if it exists, is in the free-floating stage right now, as it’s too early for it to have implanted. So I keep picturing it as the screensaver thing that everyone watches during meetings on “The Office” and cheers for it to hit the corner exactly. Just bouncing around. I’m picturing the seed being planted in the garden and surrounded by velvety, irridescent orchid petals, too, and the cells merging and dividing and all that, too – never fear. But the screen saver is the dominant image for me the last few days.

There you have it, internets. The glamourous life of Annacyclopedia on a very windy Saturday in October.

light a candle for me?

I had my scan this morning, and to my surprise was ready to trigger already – it’s only CD11! My trusty left ovary came through again with a juicy 21.3 – woot! There was one on my right at 16, too, so I guess this Clomid stuff does work. I’m a bit tired of the headache and the hot flashes, although the latter haven’t been too bad, and I’m cold all the time anyway, so I sort of enjoy them. Overall, though, the Clomid really hasn’t been too bad. I’m feeling very fortunate about that, and also mildly bashful, as I had sort of built it up in my mind as a hellacious torture. Glad it wasn’t.

So my IUI is tomorrow at 3:30, and if you could think of me and think romantic thoughts for the 2 cells who will be meeting on their first date in the upper left corner of my ute, and hopefully uniting and taking over my ute for a good 40 weeks, that would be simply grand. While I was having acupuncture today (of which I’ve become a hopeless addict and simply can’t imagine life without twice-weekly needlings), I was visualizing my egg and a very handsome sperm meeting, merging and starting to divide, and then burrowing in to my velvety lining. Might as well be really specific, I figure. And those thoughts are much more enjoyable than the thoughts of total dread that keep trying to pop up. Mostly dread at the thought of actually being successful – weird, I know, but it struck me the other day that as much as I’ve had hope for positive results on our other attempts, I’ve never really allowed myself to think about how it will really feel when we get our BFP. And as thrilled and in love and joyful as I will no doubt be, I have a feeling that I’ll also probably mighty freaked out. One of my best friends said that when she got pregnant with her first, she freaked out and talked to her cat and laughed and cried for hours. So Lucky better practice his compassionate listening face, cause I have a feeling he’ll be needing it in 2 weeks.

I’m horrified to say that it’s only 8:50 and I am ready for bed. I guess my weekend of rock is still affecting me. Feist was amazing, by the way – if you dig her at all and have a chance to see her play live, GO! She’s great, her band is great, and the people doing the visual show for her were simply magical. I loved every minute, even though the venue was sort of lame and the crowd was a bit tepid. She can simply do no wrong in my eyes. You can check out some very cool photos of the recent live shows here if you’re interested. The visual show was led by Clea Minaker, who’s apparently a master puppetteer, but in this context was working with a light box projected onto the screen that formed the backdrop for the performance, and used paper cutouts, jewels and even finger paint to create the images. There were 2 or 3 other women working with her and at times it got really complex. It really was amazingly beautiful, and I’m so glad I went.

Alright, my darlings. I’m off to bed to dream sweet dreams of conception.

where to even begin?

Yeah, I know. I’m a bad, bad blogger. I linger around, commenting on the details of everyone else’s life, but with me, it’s only borscht and surface details once or twice a month. Pathetic. 

Well, it’s not for lack of interesting things going on. I’m not quite sure why I haven’t been posting lately – partly that things were going pretty well for a while and I was busy and distracted and therefore less in need of pouring my guts out, and partly that I had procrastinated for so long and felt so guilty and ashamed and at a loss as to where to jump back in again that it was just too daunting to start writing again. 

Lucky for you, internets, the craptacular-ness has returned. Nothing really serious, just feeling blue and vulnerable and scared and all that.  So let’s bullet, shall we?  There are lots of little things I need to catch you up on. 

• Got my period today and start Clomid tomorrow. Am freaked and excited. Am also dreading possible hormonal nightmare during our first joint family Thanksgiving – Manny’s parents, sister, and BIL and my grandparents, uncle, cousin and her boyfriend. Could be good, could be ugly – 2 old ladies with dementia! Yay! As long as I don’t have a hot flash or crying jag in the middle of it, it will be bearable. I think. 
• Got my period today after a week of hormonal weepiness. Feeling so raw and sad all the time sucks. Especially when I was expecting my period last weekend and kept having crazy pregnant fantasies.”Maybe just one sperm jumped the turnstiles and made it to my egg the one time in the past month we actually had sex! It’s possible, right? Right? RIGHT??????????????”
• Fuck, I hate my mind and her stupid tricks. 
• Read some blog by a donor conceived guy in Australia who used to be totally fine with being donor conceived until he had his own child and now he’s totally against it. Fucking great. Why do I read those things? I have this idea that I need to be compassionate and open my heart to all possibilities and try to hold them all with love and tenderness, but all it really does it make me circle the bowl of doubt and freak out that I might be dooming my future child to a life of torment and anguish. Ugh.
• Support group has first meeting next Tuesday and is going AWESOMELY! I’ve talked to 3 women now and everyone is so happy I’ve made this happen. It’s so good to get that kind of validation from others who are in or have been through the trenches, hearing that they need it and are grateful for the work I’ve done so far. I still haven’t found anyone to facilitate the group, but I’m still trying. I think it’ll be ok either way, but will take a lot of pressure off me if I’m not the one doing it. Must remember to take care of self…
• Women’s circle is also coming together. I met with two women who have been involved in another circle for many years, and they are going to help me create a new one. I’m excited about this and am feeling way more at peace with the uncertainty of it all. It’s all very wide open, which is not something I really excel at, but I’m learning to trust the process. Slowly, though. 
• It’s really fall here – leaves are mostly off the trees, it’s getting colder and colder every day. We might even get snow over the weekend. I like fall but the fact that it precedes a long and miserably cold winter seriously puts a damper on my enjoyment of it. 
• We have tickets to see Neil Young in a couple weeks, and I might go see Feist the night after that, too. There is an absurd amount of good music coming these next few weeks – Bob Dylan is coming in November, I think, but we were planning to be away for that weekend. Too many choices…
• All I want to do right now is drink tea, cuddle my dog, and weep. But I’ll probably get up soon and start cleaning up my house and also hiding all the copies of “Creating Families” and IF books I have lying around. The last thing I need during Thanksgiving dinner is a slightly batty old lady asking me what’s up with that. 

I heart you all. Thank you for not abaondoning me completely. My blog stats are oddly busy considering my totaly flakiness in posting. Will seriously attempt more regular posting in near future. Truly. 

ETA: One more thing – it’s my wedding anniversary today. Four years ago today, Manny and I got married to each other for the second time. The first time was seven years ago last Sunday. Go us! Although I am super lame and can’t find any wedding photos in this computer…