Pharmaceuticals Be Damned

I never could recover my lost paragraphs from the recesses of my mind (or cyberspace), and though I am not yet over it, I always have more to say, loquacious, self-important b*tch that I am.

Oh, before I go any further I should mention that I like to swear, a lot (I blame my father), and I will most likely swear often on this blog because it is my catharsis. For the time being I am substituting certain letters in my swear words with an asterisk. Why? Well really it is because I was a teacher for 10 years and there is an infinitesimal chance that one of my former students (some of whom were fooled into thinking that I am the epitome of perfection) may come across this blog and I am trying to keep up the facade of embodying everything holy, at least for them.

Well, I have been off Zoloft (100mg) for nearly a week and I have not yet gouged any ones eyes out, though I have wanted to (no, not yours Mom, I swear). Now, the reason I started taking Zoloft in the first place was that just over a year ago I had what I assumed at the time to be a nervous breakdown. I was on the couch, eyes huge with anxiety and fear, rocking back and forth and paralyzed with confusion, so Zoloft it was. Bottoms up!

When I first learned that Zoloft was a class C pregnancy drug I was scared. "I heard that Zoloft was safe to take during pregnancy!" I screamed to no one imparticular. F*CK, I was told there would be no math on this exam (Thanks for the pic Jay).
So, for the good of my future, hopefully, maybe, baby-I stopped taking it. Then it dawned on me; maybe I am not crazy! Maybe I won't lose my mind when off psychotropic meds! And you know what? That "nervous breakdown" I had was right smack in the middle of the clomid challenge test AND my period. AWESOME!!!! I may not need Zoloft! hurray! strike up the band, let go of the balloons, I can get pregnant (Day 3 FSH level of 16.9 anyone?).

So, Zoloft problem solved; onto the Xanax. I rarely take Xanax, but it is my security blanket and I take it everywhere with me. Xanax is a class D pregnancy drug, so I cannot take it while pregnant, period. This kinda sucks because I am a huge fan of a quick fix, and without Xanax to lean on, there are no quick fixes. Wait, I must digress, as of this typing, I am not pregnant, but I am hopeful (wink, wink, nod, nod).

To be continued...

Locked in a Vacancy

Well, it is one day post IUI and I am exhausted. My dog sh*t on the floor, and I haven't even contemplated cleaning it up, proving that I am indeed, horrible. In fact, I saw said sh*t on the floor when I was going to sleep last night (3:30 this morning) and I just left it there. I was tired, dammit! My dog is a chihuahua, so it really is not that much sh*t. Why do I admit this sheer laziness? Well, I am not perfect and I am not going to be, ever (note to self). Also, since nobody is ever going to read this (except my poor sister-cause I sent her the link) nobody will ever know just how piss poor a human being I really am. I take that back; I am a grrrreat human being, just a supremely lazy one.

Life is hard when you you have nothing to do; nothing to concentrate on but the odds of a successful pregnancy following an IUI. Oh sure I have mountains of laundry that I should do, two horribly filthy bathrooms that I should clean, and dirty dishes in the sink that I should wash, but I have never been fond of housework. Also, I could clean up that sh*t on the floor. I am going to clean up that sh*t. I'll be back in 2 minutes and 2 seconds (shout out Chuck Woolery). Mission accomplished; shit cleaned up, laundry and dishes, still not done. Bathrooms, still dirty.

The shots are over, at least for now, my belly is healing, and my initial excitement of possible conception is waning. It dawns on me that this IUI has a critically low chance of success. This way of thinking is not my eternally negative outlook, it is my nagging realism. Yesterday I felt jubilant, for the first time in a long time; today I feel lonely. I often feel lonely, tired, and under appreciated, but yesterday, I felt better.

F*CK, I just typed a dynamic (if I do say so myself) succession of paragraphs, and I lost them!!! Can't find them!!! Gone!! I am paralysed with anger! SAVE AS DRAFT DUMB ASS!!!! Oh, why did I have to upload that picture mid-blog without SAVING AS DRAFT? Because, I am a blog novice moron and I hate myself for it. I will recover, as soon as I can remember every f*cking word that I typed. That, by the way will not happen because I cannot even remember why I came in this room half the time. I will just have to try to get over this; I think a nap is in order!

Vices, Vices, Everywhere and Not a Drop to Drink

I am sure that many of you who stumble across this blog will convulse in shock at my horribleness, but it is my blog and my reality, so if you are perfectly perfect, you should probably read elsewhere. Those of you that do not mind my honesty and admitted failings, please stay as I could use some friends. Having said that, I hope at least one person actually finds my blog.

The following represents the short list of my vices: coffee, cigarettes, Advil, Xanax, Zoloft, and an occasional Vicodin too (horrid migraines). These are not in order of preference, necessity, or regularity of indulgence, but I felt it necessary to mention them when discussing my less than herculean attempts to squelch said vices while trying to conceive. What does it matter for the moment anyway; my day 3 FSH is 16.9, I am 37, and my my pets don't complain...well, one does, but she is a cranky b*tch anyway-though I love her despite this fact.

I started this blog after becoming addicted to reading a blog that I stumbled upon. I have no idea how I got to the aforementioned blog as I have never read or written a blog in my life, but am so glad that I found it.

The blog is a little pregnant. I mention the title because it is not just a blog, it is a beautifully written novel in the form of a blog. I have found myself alternately spitting out coffee from laughter and crying from grief while reading it. It may be the injected hormones coursing through my body, but I don't think so; it really is an addictive read and I encourage you to check it out.

To give a few more props to the a little pregnant blog writer, I did not sleep one millisecond last night because I was riveted (and I am still only up to the 2/18/2004 entry) by her story, literary skills, and comic prowess. The not sleeping a wink thing was not so terrific an idea as I had my first ever IUI this morning. It sure will be great to let the multitude of puncture marks heal up on my tender belly, but I digress, I want my baby (though I hope for his/her sake that s/he does not have my nose, ahem, former nose).

I was so surprised today when just after the IUI, naked from the waist down, my feet still the stirrups, and my pelvis tilted slightly skyward, I nearly cried with joy at the prospect of my husband's sperm swimming up to my hard won egg and being allowed in. I was so freakin' happy, that it is almost scary. Happy like I just won the lottery happy.

I only had one good follicle and my RE was hoping for 2, but that 13mm just would not cooperate. "It only takes one..." I know, I know, but I have been told that TOO many f*cking times and my one may not be a good one and sadly, there may not be many good ones left. Please do not tell me to think positive, because I will puke up my coffee and Advil, with a Xanax chaser; AND, believe it or not-I am positive, just mildly realistic. Not about winning the lottery though, I am unrealistically convinced that one day, I will win.

I do feel incredibly lucky that I grew one big, beautiful, hopefully not degraded egg/follicle. It was 21mm 2 days before my IUI, though with all of my cramping I was sure I had an ostrich egg waiting to burst out of that follicle, but Ma neshtana (loosely translated from Hebrew meaning-Why should today be different from any other day), I always have horrid cramping.

Also, I did an HPT? Why the F*ck would I do that? Because 1) I wanted to see if that HCG shot that I shoved into my belly really worked, and 2) a positive pregnancy test looks f*ckin' awesome in my hand. Now, of course I am freaked beyond belief to find out how long this will stay in my system. How will I know if those beautiful twin lines are for real or just Memorex?

The easy answer is to wait to test until 15 days after my trigger like the nurse told me to do, but I simply cannot do that. For one thing I am obsessive about knowledge acquisition and I want to know the moment my baby blastocyst implants (hope, hope, pray, pray-wait, I'm an atheist). Also, 15 days makes that May 12th, which is the day after my husband's 35th birthday and news of our pregnancy would be an awesomely, fantastic birthday present.

In my quest to find out how long the HCG will it stay in my system, I searched the Internet. Do you know what I learned?? Millions of other pincushions are out there wanting that same answer. I guess I will have to accost my nurse tomorrow and demand an answer. Say it with me, "I will not test, I will not test"; f*ck it, I will just buy cheaper tests!

I made my husband take a video of my second Follistim injection. The best part (if there can really be a best part) is my husband's narration. I love that man! And he loves me too! (though at times I don't know why)