Inventing new IF products

“Am I pregnant?”

NO!

“Am I using the right test?”

IT DOESN’T MATTER!

“How can I know for sure?”

TAKE ANOTHER TEST!

“Is there another brand I can try that might be more fun?”

YES!  Thank goodness you asked. Introducing the new 3-Line pregnancy test from Responses Pee Sticks. Not pregnant? Enjoy the magic of two lines anyways! A third line will appear if you are actually pregnant. Depressed because you’ve never seen two lines before? Enjoy a momentary rush of excitement when you see two lines! Momentarily trick yourself into thinking you are with child!      Buy new 3-line pregnancy tests today. Because you’ve got the next two weeks to be depressed about your infertility, you might as well enjoy the moment.

CD1

Kaboom… that’s the sound of the box slamming shut again. Today is Cycle Day one. All I have to say about that is “fuck.”

I keep hope locked in a metal box in the closet…

… and it’s trying to get out.

Hope has been a theme lately. I’ve been wanting to hope a lot. And stopping myself just as I start to let it seep in to my subconscious. I’ve been wanting to hope about a lot of things, not just my ability to conceive a child.

I have a lot of hope that in January, things will be better politically. No matter which way you slice it, not matter where your affiliations lie, you have to admit that things have been pretty bad lately. And January will bring new people, new ideas, a little bit of new hope that things will get better for people. That our loved ones will come home from Iraq, that we can get out of debt, that we can find gainful employment, that we can have access to better healthcare. Whomever you vote for, just get out there and do it, ok? For all those little ones who don’t yet have a say.

I’ve been trying to squash down the hope that I am p.r.e.g.n.a.n.t. A word we have been spelling in our house today. Because it is a momentous month. For the first time since we started TTC, I had a luteal phase dip in my BBT. From 98 down to 97.49 and back up to 98. On day 8. And the morning after the dip? Mysterious spotting that disappeared after about an hour. Never before people. Either thing. And now both together? That’s all I am going to say about that. I’m on 10 DPO now but I have no tests in the house and refuse to succomb to the testing fairy until at least Tuesday when I am 15 DPO.

The silly bit of hope is aound rumors that a favorite band of SuperHusband and mine might get back together for a tour in the spring. They broke up around the time we got married. I would relish the chance to feel 19 and newly in love again. Dance with my bare feet in the grass… Maybe with a big ole belly… (dammit hope, get back in your box!)

Forward Momentum

Things are moving forward in First Comes Love Land. SuperHusband still has good days and bad days, but the good ones are starting to outnumber the bad ones, and he’s finding more constructive ways to deal with his sadness. He has started writing songs for an album he’s going to dedicate to his friend. They were bandmates “back in the olden days.”

I am finally settling into a routine where I don’t feel like school is sucking every last ounce of energy from my body. I am really enjoying statistics, despite a less than enjoyable teacher, and my health class isn’t too shabby either. We work out in class on Wednesdays, and inspired by Kate, I’ve decided to train for a 5k in November. So I’ve mostly been running on the indoor track. Running is not easy. But getting easier.

I’ve cashed in on that forward momentum and took my infertile-with-child-post-ivf friend’s advice and made an appointment with an RE. She was shocked to hear that after two years I was still wading around in obgyn land waiting for permission to move on to the specialists. She made some good points… after all, my insurance covers nothing so I might as well get more specialized treatment if I am shelling out the big bucks right?  I’ll be meeting with the only fertility specialist in my area in November.

Despite reading stories like this one, which make me fear childbirth a wee bit more, I am wanting to do the “child by any means necessary” thing more and more these days.  As time goes on without a pregnancy, I feel like my willingness to open my mind to the possability of the more invasive fertility treatments increases. I think the death of our friend had a lot to do with that. The idea that if anything were to happen to SuperHusband, that a piece of him would live on in his child. And that I love him too much not to try as hard as I can.

Putting things back together

I’m still here, dreadfully behind in all things blog land. The last two weeks have been a bit of a blur… hard to imagine it’s only been two weeks as it seems an entire lifetime has passed since hearing the news of friend E’s passing.

The day after we heard the news was my first day back in college. That falls pretty low on the list of dramatic things that had happened recently, but it is worth noting because it certainly compounded the sense that life had been turned upside down. I went through the motions at work on Wednesday, headed off to class, and tried to stay focused. We left to go back to the major city from whence we came (whence… is that a word? Am I using it right?) on Thursday morning and were greeted with evening rush hour traffic on a 16-18 lane highway. Why did we move away again?

Thursday night and Friday were filled with old friends, some still living in the major city and others like us who had moved on. People who hadn’t been planning on making the long trip for the wedding came in for the funeral and to support E’s fiance, L.

It was strange being back… nearly everyone has had children since we left, which just seemed to magnify the empty space in our own family. One friend up there had done IVF to conceive, and last summer I had told her about our troubles. I’m guessing that that news had spread, because there were no awkward questions about when we were going to have children ourselves, and I was grateful for that.

Saturday was supposed to be the day of the wedding and all the friends and family gathered to celebrate the life of E and the love of E and L. There was a potluck party that went nearly all night, and ended when the neighbors called the cops at 3 am. L went back and forth between sobbing and laughing and displayed a lot of strength and courage.

The funeral was on Sunday, and it was hard for everyone involved. SuperHusband spent a lot of it in a daze, the complete wrongness of it all hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Drive home on Monday and straight to school where I struggled to stay awake. Back to work on Tuesday where I discover that my computer died while I was away and I don’t have a new one yet.

Out of town again for the long weekend which brings us to today, wherein I finally have a new computer, and things seem to be returning to normal. I am really looking forward to this weekend!  Things have been so insane that I failed to realize that today was day 29 of my cycle, 15 DPO. How insane if this was the month I got knocked up, since I ovulated the day E passed away. No symptoms though, just a mild cramping that indicates that my period is about to start. I have to pee but have avoided going to the bathroom because I don’t want to see what I already know. Best to just sit back and enjoy this little bit of hope while I still can.