Good morning and Goodbye

Warning: After much jubilation and a little talk of Fil’s health, I start talking about the monthly present. Feel free to move along.

Well, the LMIL is gone. When all is said and done she was a wonderful guest. She folded our laundry when she had nothing to do, she was polite and didn’t bang around making tons of noise. She was sweet to the cats and always offered her help. But a MIL is still a MIL, no matter how lovely she can be. And now we can relax at least for a little while, until Fil starts this new barrage of tests.

Her doctor wants to run loads of tests and scans, he’s even planning on putting her in a clean room if she continues to get infections. We’re really not looking forward to this jump, because her immune system is horribly compromised, so it is highly probable that she will get another infection (her pneumonia aside) and have to go into the clean room. It would be torture for me and Monster. But if it has to happen, it has to happen. In the end I know Dr. P is doing it for her own good.

On the baby making front … there’s … well, no news. I’m not temping, I failed at January’s and haven’t started February’s cycle. But I doubt I’ll jump on the temping wagon. My schedule is leveling out slowly, I wake up at about 6 a.m. every day now, give or take 30-40 minutes. But I would like to have my schedule as level as possible, because adding something like temping into the mix could very well throw my whole schedule into spin cycle and leave me all wrinkly and confused. So, let’s try and get this “wake up at 6 every day” firmly injected into my bones then we’ll tackle the ovulation thing.

I find it very disconcerting that I have yet to get a visit from Mother Nature (I imagine she’s very busy dolling out the red stuff to ridiculously thin women on their vacations) this month. I always talk about being regular and reliable. 90% of the time I am. I will swear up and down to being as regular as the postman, sometimes early, sometimes late but mostly on time.

I’ve counted on a very long cycle of about 30 to 31 days. It’s been that way since I was in the early days of womanhood (you know, 5th grade, 10 years old). The only thing that has ever thrown me off of that schedule has been stress. That’s why I never realised I was pregnant until I was losing it, I’d been under tremendous stress and atributed my late period to that. In fact, it was the tremendous stress that caused me to lose the baby.

I assumed in January that stress was again the culprit for my 5 days late period. In essence, I should be relieved. I was starting quite regularly on the 14th of the month and our anniversary is on the 14th. At least that gives us about a 5 day window in April (if I don’t start early next month!) to revel in our 6 years of togetherness. Well, scratch that, it’s more like 1 week because I am late this month and haven’t even felt the twinge of crampiness I always feel before I start. I think I might skip February, the first time stress has ever pushed my period so far back I miss a month. Bleh x2.

Coming up is the 2 year anniversary of Fil and Monster moving to Texas. On the same day is Buddha’s 7th birthday! And the possible day we’ll recieve our tax refund. YAY!

I’m hoping that that little glimmer of goodness on the horizon will let my body relax and get everything back to normal.

Day 7: My First UTI!

Well, not so much with the exclamation point.

I have never had a UTI. Well, I probably have, but it was mild enough that with a lot of water, cranberry juice and excercise it went away with nothing but a sigh of disdain.j

However, I’m going to be very honest about this, soooo I’m going to put in a cut.

Oh GROSS!

This time, I don’t come bearing my soul fears. This time I come bearing an “I knew it!”

So, our prospective donor, S, talked with his girlfriend. Who agreed to the terms of using his sperm, as long as Fil (hold your breath) goes down on her.

Yes, look back, re-read it, I’m not fucking kidding. Pardon my French but this so, seriously deserves insulting language.

I’m appalled at the response by his girlfriend. That stretches beyond over-stepping into parenting, or anything I had imagined. That is shocking, insulting and maddening.

So, our beloved, beautiful S is now out of the picture. I was slightly getting used to the idea of a mixed-race child. But now, the search is on again.

I would still like to look into any siblings of Fil’s super-boss who looks just like Fil. Or even another one of Fil’s colleagues because there are some absolutely beautiful men that she works with.

And speaking of Fil, she bought me a DS Lite (I’ve been itching for one for months) for my birthday (which is Dec 6). I’m shuddering with anticipation, but I only have 2 games and want more!

Ova-den-dumb. Some TMI ahead.

So I’m ovulating. I think. At least, my cervical fluid tells me that I’m ovulating. Oh, and the tell-tale ache above my left ovary tells me I’m ovulating as well. My .1 shift in temperature tells me I’m NOT ovulating. This says to me that maybe I should be a bit more focused when it comes to temping. 2 of my variables were off because of Fil’s wonky schedule. So, ahem, I think I’ll be more diligent on the 6.30 temping schedule.

Ovulating ALWAYS reminds me, now, of how painful my first post-miscarriage ovulation was. I was half-wracked with the guilt of losing Michael and half wracked with utter, shocking pain. A week or so later I was in the hospital followed by a visit to Planned Parenthood.

So now everything on my body is aching a new. Earlier this morning there were slight inklings to what was happening inside of me. But by the time I’d woken Fil up and we’d gone to dinner, my body was on red alert. The pain that stretched like a cloth from my head (chronic migraines) to my feet (remarkably sore) was almost palpable, as I was transferring it to Fil in a most inappropriate way. My whole body now protests, almost violently, ovulation. It starts in my girlie bits and spreads like a virus all over me. By the end of the day I’m exhausted, cranky and completely done with being a girl. I just want to hack away at my insides.

But then, I take a step back, breathe, and think of all the women out there whose ovaries DON’T work. Who would give anything to experience the fertile agony I do. And plus, there’s Fil, who anxiously caresses my abdomen, anticipating the life that will someday grow there. I’m sort of selfish, thinking my reproductive organs to be just my own. I mean, Fil will profit from them too.

On the home front, JT did not stay the night with JM. JM went to his older brother’s house, so JT stayed home. I’m not entirely ecstatic about this, because the boy needs to get his first sleep over under his belt. And I was looking forward to a night completely to myself. I was going to rent a movie from Blockbuster, take a bath, wear my snuggliest pjs and relax.

It didn’t turn out too bad, but JT has invaded my room, my quiet meditative cave, with his coughing, his belching, his dribbling chocolate on our white sheets, and his Star Wars games. He wanted to rent Jackass 2, so I let him, and we watched it. We were both completely disgusted by some parts, mostly the parts involving penises or testicles. But there were hilarious parts, which is a testament to the 14 year old boy living inside of me.

To say the least, I’m a little exhausted. I spend every waking hour with this boy. Tomorrow I’m going to take 30 minutes to myself. No Fil, no son. Just me and the quiet of a bath.

Proof

I just heard about this. I’m not too active in the TTC community. I don’t really float around and post all that often, so she probably has no idea who I am, but I truly feel deep sorrow for her. I’ve been reading for some time and she is an amazing woman, just like everyone else out there in the TTC community. She doesn’t deserve this.

Good news, though it feels greatly dimmed by the bad up there. Fil was presented with a new job yesterday! She gets to get off of candy and register (she hates people) and work with donuts in the bakery. She’ll come home, not smelling of sweat and grime but oil and sugar. Not sure how I feel about that yet. But I’m so happy for her. She’s now guaranteed stability in her schedule. Before she was ensured a stable 40 but her superior did not keep her word and Fil’s been bouncing around in an awkward, homespun schedule since she left GM a few weeks ago.

It sort of settled in today how devastating her schedule has been to our relationship. We miss each other. School pulls me away from her in the mornings (2 days a week, Tuesday and Thursday) and she’s gone by 6 or 8 at night. We’re too tired to have sex. We’re cranky when we do get to spend time together because we’re fighting to stay awake and are somewhat sleep deprived. And when we’re well rested we spend the whole time off with Monster. “Us” time is reduced to a quickie before she goes to work or squeezing in 30 minutes of Grey’s while Monster is in the shower.

We went to B&N tonight to get a present for my father’s 45th birthday. We got him the most amazing punk encyclopedia. It has wonderful images, not staged shots but ordinary green room shots and all of this information on the most influential images in the punk scene, including, to my chagrin, Green Day and other nu-punk bands that my dad really kind of loathes. But it’s got the Buzzcocks and the Ramones (my dad’s band opened for ‘em in the 80s) etc. So it’s a good buy.

Baby Stuff: I’ve been meaning to start BBT charting for a month or so, but I’ve never had the motivation to spend $5 on a thermometer. Since the on my ‘rents have has been chewed by the dogs, I decided to get one of my own. But the one we found at Target was on clearance AND specially designed for BBT charting. It was marked down about $10 dollars or something.

So, since we’re nearing the start line on our TTC journey, I thought I’d start BBT charting to get a more accurate idea, even though we WILL be using OPKs nearing insemination time.  Both Fil and I had a weird cycle, mine was about 32 days in length and hers was at least that long. I just finished up my period, so I’m starting BBT charting a little late in this cycle, CD7. Poor Fil just started her period and she’s already miserable. At least we’re bouncing off of each other, because we would both be WRETCHED on our periods together.