h0rses

I wrote a post. I took it down. Not because I didn't mean it, but because I didn't take any precautions to make it google-proof. And had a dream last night about a child googleing the two h0rses I wrote about, and finding this site, and having her little mind blown. So... probably an overreaction, but it's gone.

funniest spam subject line ever

"Unlease that watering hose inside your pants"

Thank you, Bejo Vee, for that much needed moment of levity.

still waiting . . .

. . . for my copy of Harry Potter! I am about to explode from frustration. The reason I ordered HP7 from Amazon instead of buying it at midnight last night was so I would have all afternoon and evening to read instead of staying up all night. But now it's 8:00 pm and my copy is still on a UPS truck somewhere. Unfreakingbelievable.

we have lift off

It looks like I did ovulate on day 31 or 32 (big temp spike on day 33). Also, my breasts are sore, sore, sore, which makes the ovulation feel real to me (because after waiting soooo long it's hard to put too much faith in four high bbts (so far).

The fact that I ovulated is good. It's altogether better than not ovulating. But I am not at all hopeful that I might actually get pregnant this time. I just feel destined for mega doses of clomid.

To totally change the subject, does anyone else HATE those new Kleenex commercials that encourage people to cry? I just saw the worst one yet - with a hurricane Katrina survivor talking about how she lost several loved ones in the storm. What is wrong with people?

paint out the old, paint in the new

For the last few years our bedroom has been a very dark red. I chose it because I thought it was romantic and a bit exotic. And it was. I loved it. But lately I had grown tired of it. It was very dark, and started to feel a bit oppressive. Also, it struck me as a very infertile color-the color of blood.

So Al and I began color negotiations. We didn't want to go with a creamy-browny-neutral, since much of our house is already painted in those colors. I wanted to move away from dark colors, but have a general disdain for pastels. He wanted green or yellow. I wanted pink or purple. We compromised on a lovely shade of blue. Only, it has turned into a rather more green shade of blue than I initially believed. I think I have been tricked.

We spent the last two days painting. Two coats of primer to cover the red, then two coats of this new color. When it was wet I was worried. It was very green, and a little institutional. But it has dried to a much more agreeable color. Almost a Tiffany blue, just a hair (or two) greener. Well, at least green is a very fertile color.

I am painting over 2006. It was a dark year in many ways. May 2007 be light and serene, like my new bedroom walls. Maybe next year we will be arguing over a paint color for a nursery. Maybe.

little miss sunshine

So. freaking. funny. Go see it!

music, books, and moodiness

I had a 3 day weekend. Al did not. So, I set off to visit my family solo. I began the four hour drive with the cd I mentioned last. That may not have been such a good idea. The song "Lullaby" made me want to cry. The song about Alzheimer's did make me cry. "So hard" made me cry again. I took the disc out and replaced it with The White Stripes. So no more crying, but I think the damage was done. At the familial home we spent the evenings reading in companionable silence, as is our wont. I had brought along The Time Traveler's Wife, which many people have recommended to me, and on Sunday I dove into it. It was wonderful. It was lyrical and beautiful and completely devastating. I fell asleep reading it, woke up in the middle of the night, picked it back up and read it through to the end. I could not stop crying. I felt raw, like I had been turned inside out. It couldn't have helped that I was alone in my childhood bedroom instead of at home in bed with my husband. All I wanted to do was put my hands on him, know that he was solid and not likely to disappear. In the morning I rolled out of bed and into the car. I had to be home with Al. Of course, he was at work when I arrived. By the time he came home I was feeling much better. Hadn't cried in at least twelve hours.

I am not usually one to cry like this over music or books. I tear up, but that's about the limit of it. I don't know what's going on.

I did hear (overhear, actually) this weekend that one of my cousins and his wife are having trouble getting pregnant. It's secondary IF for them as they already have a daughter. They have had at least one unsuccessful round of IVF. I wish we were closer, so that I could call them up and commiserate. But, since I am not even meant to know that this is going on, I don't think I should. I don't know how I would feel if out of the blue he were to call me and offer sympathy when I didn't think anyone knew about our own issues. Silly, all this secrecy.

am I the only one who didn't already know this?

I heard in a radio interview today that two of the D!x!e Ch!cks struggled with infertility (both now have twins) and wrote the song So Hard about the experience. How did I not know that? I love the DCs, and actually own the cd the song is on, but I guess I never listened closely to that track. As soon as I got home I put the disc on and it is plain as day.

down and up and down and up and down . . .

Here are the highlights of the unwritten blog posts floating around in my head for the last month or so . . .

Christmas - I was as sick and miserable as I have ever been. Strep throat pain began the morning of Christmas eve. 103 degree fever. My throat hurt so badly I wanted to rip it out. Friends and relatives shunned me for fear of being contaminated. Fun times.

New Year's Eve - Relieved to no longer be in horrible pain. Did nothing special for the actual big moment, but did have a fun weekend and managed to take in a couple of movies ("The Family Stone" and "King Kong" - very different, both enjoyable, both made me cry).

Somewhere in there I had a birthday - Tried not to be too depressed about the fact that I am another year older with not much to show for it.

Weekend before last - Depression settled in. Felt extremely hopeless about prospect of ever having a baby. Laid into Al for his lack of contributions (other than sperm which continue to make their brave attempts yet perish one and all) to the cause. Cried and cried and cried. We made a plan to finally choose an RE and make an appointment, and I also announced my intentions to see my GP about antidepressants.

Intervening week - Depression lifted a bit as I felt that we were actually moving forward a bit with a plan. I decided to wait and talk to RE about antidepressants rather than GP. Al began to read up on the semi-local options for an RE. They are (1) Big Medical School associated practice, (2)private practice headed by former head of Big Medical School associated practice, (3) private practice headed by two touchy feely types who both suffered from IF themselves, (4) private practice headed by crazy guy who thinks all births should be via cesarean section. I am an incredibly indecisive person. I had accumulated much information and done much agonizing but only managed to rule out #4. Al in a space of two days settled on #2. I told him I needed a bit more time to agonize before we make an appointment. It is difficult (I suppose it's never easy) because most of the information about these practices is about their approach to and success with IVF. Which we hopefully will not need and which certainly will not be our starting point. Ahh, indecision.

Last weekend - Uneventful. Still feeling good about the fact that we are moving forward. Practically euphoric about the fact that Al has initiated conversation about the Great Babymaking Project several times.

This morning - All hopeful good feelings have evaporated as the result of one little phone call. I was in the parking lot at work, running a few minutes late. I was talking to my sister. My younger sister. My baby sister. She is pregnant. I felt so sick I truly thought I would vomit right there in the parking lot. I had to find a sub and come back home. Which is where I am now.