Dealing with the Needs-Not-to-Know's

Things have been pretty busy at home. We're getting the house ready to sell because we're moving this summer. Hopefully we'll be able to sell it even though the market is bad right now. We'll see.

Our immediate families and closest friends knew about our fertility treatment but I still hate dealing with questions from relatives who are gossipy. I was messing around playing Scramble on Facebook tonight and a second cousin (who is VERY gossipy) started instant messaging me and immediately asked if another baby was on the way. I chose to keep my conversation on our house selling and ignored the baby question - hoping she would think I didn't see it.

I know she probably means well - she is in her early twenties and probably doesn't realize that having a baby doesn't come easy to everyone. She does know I had a miscarriage last year so I kind of expected a little sensitivity. I just know that whatever I did tell her would end up in family conversations and the entire clan would know. No thanks.

When we do see the relatives this year - which is almost never - I am wondering if I should just lie and say we don't want any more children - just to get people to shut up. I guess I just don't want something that has been so difficult and painful to us to be part of the gossip.

Just like the universal code of manners and common decency says that it is impolite to bluntly ask how much money a person makes - I wish it would be considered impolite to ask people if they are going to have another baby or when is the next baby coming.

But of Course!

Yesterday I got a call from a nurse from our fertility doctor's office. At first I thought she wanted to talk to me about how we dropped out - but no. Apparently, our fertility doctor resigned and is moving to New York City to be closer to his family - elderly parent(s) situation. I felt bad for him and wish him well. He seemed like a good guy and was a nice doctor for the few times I actually saw him in the flesh.

But of course, Mark and I had to chuckle, that this is yet again another brick wall. Maybe it's a sign. We'll keep trying for another child on our own and see what happens.

Plan B

After my insemination a few weeks ago, my friends and family were so hopeful - but I knew I wasn't pregnant. I had none of the symptoms that I had in the past. As I suspected, I did not become pregnant from my insemination and Mark and I had to quickly decide what we were going to do. Were we going to do another insemination?

After much discussion, we decided to take a break from the fertility thing. It has been such a relief not to be under a schedule and going to appointments - hoping to be pregnant at month's end and being crushed. I think going to fertility heightened our pregnancy expectations and hope - and the disappointment and stress was so much worse. We may decide to go back for one more insemination - but we have to think about it.

It has been frustrating that they did not pinpoint the exact cause of our infertility - so maybe we just have the worst timing in the world, I don't know. So we decided to keep trying on our own and to book a restful vacation. So we booked a week-long vacation to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic for some needed R&R. At first we were going to try to make a "procreation vacation" out of it - and my mom was willing to watch Little Ricky for us for a few days. Mark and I decided to bring him on our trip afterall - we would miss the little guy too much. It may put a damper on night-time activities but during the day when we would see other kids frolicking in the sand, ocean, and pool - we would miss him terribly.

So needless to say, I am no longer depressed as I am not on Clomid. So right now we are focused on getting our house ready to sell and looking forward to our holiday. Hopefully this vacation may boost our odds of getting pregnant - Mark has been so stressed. So now I'm happier than I have been in months.

The Oven is Still Empty

Well here I am - in my 4th month of fertility treatment. I must admit that I haven't been blogging much because this last round of Clomid really kicked me into depression mode. Now that I've been off of it for 2 weeks, I can clearly say, it was the Clomid - and I hope I don't have to take it again.

So far, I have had about 17 ultrasounds (follicular), a Hysterosalpingogram (HSG), a Post-Coital Test (kind of embarassing), and tons of bloodwork (that I must have as many holes in my right arm as a sponge) and no clear-cut answer as to the cause of our infertility. Is it possible that Mark and I really just suffer from crappy timing - for 2 years?

This past month I had an IUI - an Intrauterine Insemination. I won't know if I am pregnant til next week and so far it doesn't seem like it. I've been pregnant 2 times before and all the symptoms I had are not here. I know I still could be - so I am being a good girl and not eating tuna, consuming caffeine or alcohol, or doing aerobic activity - no bike rides with my boys.

The nurses have mentioned that injectables are far more successful than Clomid (tablets) and I need to ask them about those meds. I have made a list of things I need to do in case I have to take hormonal medication again and end up being depressed:

1. Keep busy - continually clean the house and go through our things for donations
2. Play lots of music - keeps me calm and makes me happy
3. Read books
4. Stop eating french fries and fried food (I did this last time and gained lots of pounds) Weight gain makes you even more depressed - to be depressed AND fat sucks
5. Spend even more time watching movies with my husband and son
6. Talk to my friends and family

If my pregnancy test next week comes out negative, I am not sure what we will do next. I guess I will just hope (as I have many, many, times) that I AM pregnant and deal with what to do later.

More Cleaning Fun: Disposing of Unused and Expired Medicine

I decided to go through our medicine cabinet for the first time in the almost 8 years living in our house to get rid of unused and expired medicine. I wasn't too surprised at the number of prescriptions and over-the-counter medicines we've accumulated over the years.

Recently the news reported that they found antibiotics in drinking water in several states in the U.S.. Although Illinois apparently did not participate, I wouldn't be surprised if tests showed the same results.

People are not supposed to flush medicine down the toilet because the system is not set up to rid itself of medicine. You are not supposed to just throw medicine in the garbage either, because an animal or a human could ingest them (a pretty sad human!!) I looked online and also called my local Walgreens pharmacist to ask if they had a clean-your-medicine-cabinet drive as mentioned on government websites.

I was instructed to do the following:

1. Liquid medicine - Combine with coffee grounds and put in container in garbage can

2. Pills - Crush them and combine with coffee grounds and put in container in garbage can

This will take me a lot longer than anticipated. I have a lot of medicine to pound and a lot of coffee to drink (decaf of course)!!

Young Antiquarian Dreams Fade to Brown and Yellow Pages

Mark and I are getting ready to sell our house and buy another. So in doing so, we have to go through *every* little thing we own and decide to keep it or give it away.

Growing up, if you were to ask me what my most valued possession was, I would have said my book collection. I was a voracious reader and I would purchase books whenever I would travel with my mother on her many business trips. When I started traveling as adult, I kept that habit and would visit local bookshops while on vacation - like in London, Sydney, and Edinburgh.

One thing I had to do was go through my book collection and to my dismay, my paperbacks have really deteriorated! Amazing what 20 years will do to a paperback book - brown inside covers, yellowing pages, it really sucks. So needless to say, the lesson is to simply buy hardcover when possible. Better investment.

It was common practice for me to write a little something on the title page along with the date I purchase the book. I ripped out these title pages of books that I had to donate:

This first one is my absolute favorite:

From Stolen Rapture:
June 13, 1990 Why does this used book smell like stale vomit?

These other ones, however, are so goody goody. Yeah, I guess I was a big goody two shoes:

From Moby Dick:
March 4, 1991 I am an English major. I better read this! (um, I never did)

this is much much worse:

From Leaves of Grass
April 22, 1991 I bought this book 2 days ago when we visited Hooeyspewer in Champaign. It took too long to choose a book. I knew I could only spend 3 dollars. I love verse (NO I DON'T) I shall enjoy this book (I never read it). I particularly like this cover. Very scenic and tranquil. (BARF).

From How Old Was Lolita?
November 7, 1991 This is not smut. Anyone who wins the Hemingway award is fine in my books. Who the hell is Lolita?

Anyway, I ended up donating one full box of paperback books. I actually wanted to keep half of them, but since they were in such bad shape, I opted not to -due to my allergies. I kept sneezing while I was leafing through each and every one. These were books I thought I would have forever - thus writing on the title page! Something in me is kind of sad.

Freak Out

When I was 4 years old, my cousin and his wife took me, my sister, and their son to the church carnival at night - after dinner. For some reason, our parents didn't come. It was dark and there were lots of things to see. I must have stared at something for far too long because when I turned around, all the people I was with were gone. All I saw were lots of people in the crowds towering over me and I was completely scared. I cried and walked around looking for them, and eventually we were reunited. I remember my cousin wiping my tears away with a huge ring on his finger. Even though I was probably lost for ten minutes, I obviously never forgot that event.

When I became a mother, I promised myself to never give Ricky any kind of memory like that one - where he is alone and afraid.

Today I messed up - kind of...

Ricky's toddler tumbling class takes place on the first floor of the gymnastics center for the first 45 minutes. The last 15 minutes of class are spent on the second floor where the kids can bounce around on all the "big kids" equipment like a floor-length trampoline. Anyways, when class was over and it was time to go, Ricky wanted to take the elevator down. So we got in the elevator and the door shut and Ricky wanted to press the button "1" but he didn't. He wouldn't. And the elevator started humming and making scary noises so after he ignored my pleads to PRESS THE BUTTON, I pressed the button myself.

He was really mad at me and started yelling at me that he was to press the button, NOT me. When we reached the first floor, the elevator doors opened, and he wouldn't get off the elevator. I kept asking him to come with me, that we had to go. He had his arms folded and said NO. So I stepped off the elevator and expected him to eventually follow and to our surprise, THE DOOR CLOSED. I turned around at the noise - and was stunned. My baby. Was still on that elevator.

The elevator went back up to the second floor. Ricky was on the elevator alone. By himself.

I told the teacher who was halfway between floors on the staircase and she ran up and carried him down the steps. He looked fine but when I took him from her he started to cry and kept saying, "You left me on the elevator. I'm sad." And he said it all the way home in the car too.

I feel terrible and I am afraid that this event really terrified him and he will remember it forever. He will be 40 years old and blame me for such and such because of the time I left him on the elevator.