WAITING FOR THE POT TO BOIL (PART II)

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Saturday, August 28, 2004

Today is the first day of the rest of blah blah blah

It has been VERY therapeutic in my quest to become pregnant to view, other peoples BLOGs, so I said to myself, "Self, why shouldn't you have a BLOG?" Then I said, "I wonder what "BLOG" stands for?" and finally, "When did I start talking to myself, I should probably look into that."

This first post is going to be kind of long so I can get it all current, from then on it will be a little less wordy... Maybe. My main point, here is to chronicle my journey and hopefully do it in a witty manner that others will find both breathtakingly funny and therapeutic, thus inspiring others to say to themselves, "Gee, they must let anybody have one of these BLOG things..."

OK, so when I first got married I just naturally assumed I must be excessively fertile and extreme measures would have to be taken to combat rampant pregnancies from occurring. Despite the fact that I always took my pill, on time and daily--every month I believed myself to be pregnant. It is a syndrome I have come to understand and name as "Pre-natal-o-chondria" Or "one who believes herself to be pregnant every single month thus driving her husband insane syndrome" There was no cure, and it was terminally annoying. Every month I would tell my husband, "Chris, there is something I have to tell you." And by the 4th time he would always reply, "What, do you think you're pregnant again?" With all the interest he could muster, which by the 10th time, was not much. Let me just throw in here that my period was never late and every single symptom I thought I had could be attributed to the pill. Nevertheless, every month I was positive-not the test, me-- which sadly is a symptom of the disease. This condition lasted 4 long difficult years, but luckily only occurred twice in the 4th year because my husband was overseas for a year. Those two times were, the month after he left and then the month after I got back from visiting. Sadly from time to time during the 9 months I didn't see him I would have momentary relapses where apparently I though pregnancy was something that could lay dormant for months and then just pop up, but eventually I was cured. I had been in remission and the prognosis was good, however when we officially began trying it returned with a vengeance. It's different this time though, not only because it is now humanly possible, but because now I try not to tell Chris as much. It gets his hopes up and that sucks. I only went through one experience of my husband throwing a negative pregnancy test across a hotel room, bellowing "Damn these stupid tests!" to know that it just might be better if I keep this to myself until I get two lines on that telltale test.

Ahh, that test. The pregnancy test. The only test I keep failing. Just one line in the test box. One lonely little line that sys, "Hey, have you seen my partner? You know the one that is supposed to fill that empty slot next to me? No? OK, maybe he'll be there next month." But he's not, he never is. That second box is always barren, like my womb. Tee Hee. Ok that was getting depressing. [Let me just note at this point that my good friend Dorothy just had a healthy beautiful baby boy, Trevor Joseph, 7lb 9oz 20 inches long and even though I don't like babies--I really don't, I just want one of my own, I have to admit he was really cute. Shout out to Trevor, and moving right along....] Where was I... You see, this is a little known symptom of infertility-inability to finish a complete thought. It's sad really, but it's something I've come to accept. A burden I've come to bear, if you will. Another less spoke of symptom is over-dramatic-ness. Oh wait I already had that.
Ok, so let me continue bringing you up to date. "You" being probably just my mom, because I can't imagine anyone else actually finding this interesting. So, mom, continuing on, this journey began almost a year and a half ago, and it started out normally. At first I didn't do anything special (besides the obvious), except for timing "it" with what I thought was the time, I assumed I was ovulating. I assumed a lot at this point with the emphasis on ASS, for sure, I've come to find. And after about 12 months of thinking, "Well of course it's going to happen with out even trying, I'm healthy, I'm young, my husband is younger than me and he wears boxer shorts." Um, yeah, it turns out that unlike every other aspect of my wonderful life, this was not going to be handed to me. So then I began researching on the internet. Ah, the internet, my best friend, my worst enemy. A wealth of too much information at my finger tips. But, I digress. I began slowly, calmly even, at first, still confident that at any moment this would happen. At first I just bought ovulation tests. Then I used them. (I thought just the act of buying them would somehow help,) then I began charting my BBT, for those of you out there in the audience who have children or are pregnant, that stands fo basal body temerature and PS I hate you. Next I went with the lengthy, somewhat frenzied Phase II which entails: Ovulation test/BBT/Charting/Attacking my husband on day 5-25 of the cycle/standing on my head "after". Let me just note at this point that this will be a very G-rated BLOG and I will only make one quick comment here, that I will edit out when I show this to my future children and that is this: never again do I want to hear my 26 year old husband for the first time in 7 years of marriage say, "But honey, cant we please take one night off?" And by the way the answer was, no. And yet, it still didn't happen. During this time, I have found out in retrospect, that I probably had one very very early miscarriage. It felt like something was ripped out of me, but since I hadn't thought I was pregnant that month, I wasn't heartbroken. That month. Oh, I have had my fair share of months where I was just sooo disappointed. My main thought being, but why not? I did everything right, the timing was perfect, the test said I ovulated, my husband and I were in the same room at the correct time, I stood on my head for 10 minutes, why not???? Not to mention, my body is like clockwork, there was no mystery; day 14, boom ovulation, day 28 boom period. If anyone should have been able to get pregnant it should have been me, right? The answer to that question is no. So I went to see the first of two doctors. She laughed at me. That's right laughter. A gentle laugh as if to say, "Ha ha ha you dear ignorant child, what do you think, this will be handed to you?" Yes, I already covered that. She said come back after two years. Let me just say, that is the last time I choose a fertility doctor base soley on their name. You see, her name was Dr. Kopecky and in kindergarten there was a boy named Michael Kopecky who had a crush on me and all the other kids used to call me "Becky Kopecky". And yes this is the scientific reason why I had chosen her. I told you that at this time ASS was a good descriptor.... Soon after that enlightening experience I went to a recommended doctor whom I will call Dr. H. He's a bit spastic but mostly in a good way. And thus ends my very very first BLOG entry, which I will continue tomorrow. Till then, goodnight Mom

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