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Archive for July, 2008

The suspense is killing me!

Here I sit at 11 DPO. I had a temp spike this morning, which was good because I had a dip the day before and was starting to worry… I’m trying to ignore all of the phantom symptoms that are swirling around me. I’m hopeful, but also pretty damn scared of being let down. The Boy looks at my chart after a jump like today and asks me what it all means. All I can tell him that we’re currently still in the game and only time will tell how it will all turn out.

I’ve been dying to test, but made a promise to a couple of my GP girls (hi mrsh and Angie!) that I wouldn’t do anything until Thursday. A person of my word, I plan to wait until then. It’s so hard with all of those tests lying around the house. The Boy jokes that I should line them up on the ground and do an MC Hammer on them, so I can pee on a whole bunch of tests at once. Silly boy, but I loves him.

So, think good thoughts for me, give me some high temp spikes, and dump some BFP dust on me for when tomorrow comes.

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So, it’s getting close to testing time. I’ve been spending too much money lately on pregnancy tests, so I decided to take a trip to the Dollar Tree to get some cheapies. There isn’t a store close to me, so The Boy and I took a drive to Waterbury to track some down and run some other errands.

We go into the store and head right to the “health care” section. I warned The Boy that I was going to buy a bunch of them, and loaded up my arms with 8 of them. We get to the register and see that there is a rack of them there too. I turn to him, make a crack about pregnancy tests being an impulse item, and grab two more to add to my collection.

To preface: In the spirit of being green, we don’t get plastic bags whenever we can. With that in mind, here’s the exchange with the poor young guy at the register:

Me: We don’t need a bag.
Cashier looks at me like I have three heads. He continues checking us out.
Him: Are you sure you don’t want a bag? (embarrassed for both himself and me, I think)
Me: Nope, I’m cool… I’ve got no shame. I’ll just hold the boxes backwards
Cashier laughs and loads up my arms with pregnancy tests.
The Boy laughs and thanks the kid, giving him a look as if to say Just think of what I have to deal with every day!

One of the things I love about The Boy is how he’s game for any harebrained scheme I have got going on. He’ll support me with whatever I want to do, even if the kid who rang us up will have a great stories to tell the folks at home. Hey, he looked like he was having a crappy day, and we at least got him to laugh!

When will I test, you ask? I’m about 8 DPO today, so I’m thinking I’ll test at about 10 DPO or so. Think good thoughts! Oh, and I promised The Boy that I’d let him POAS and give himself a test. Damn, I should have bought 11!

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Trying to Keep it Light

Within my quest to get pregnant lies another quest not to freak the fuck out at every turn. Yesterday sucked, no doubt, but on the whole, I’m trying to relax as much as I can through the process.

I’ve finally found a way to deal with my 2ww symptoms, in a way befitting to my family. The conversation in my house goes like this:

Me to H: I think I’m pregnant
::H looks at me questioningly::
::I FART LOUDLY::
Me: Nevermind, false alarm

Hey, whatever gets you through the day, right?

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Rough Afternoon

Today ended up being a far more difficult afternoon than I thought it would be. We went to the house of a friend of The Boy, who were hosting a first birthday party for their son. I went into it thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad… a baby or two, but nothing too crazy. Was I ever wrong. I swear that at least half the people at this party had at least one young kid, two had newborns, and one was pregnant. I did the best I could to deal with things and enjoy myself, but it was a little more than I could bear. I smiled and played the part, but was crumbling on the inside.

We talked about it on the way home. The Boy felt guilty for making me go. I told him it wasn’t something to feel bad about; it was just a difficult situation. I didn’t know most of the people at the party, let alone how long they were ttc before they got pregnant. He struggles with this all, too, I get that… he just deals with it differently than me, better than me really. He’s hopeful and optimistic, I’m beaten down and sad.

I guess at the core of this, I’m just scared of what’s to come. If I don’t end up pregnant this cycle, I have one more round of Clomid to go before I have to get an HSG. I am terrified by this procedure, since I’ve heard that it’s pretty painful. I keep flashing back to having the Mirena inserted… pure pain. From there, it’s onto an RE, not something I am looking forward to.

There is hope, though. I’m currently in the 2ww at 7DPO, so there is a possibility that all of this whining and depression can result in a BFP when I test later in the week. I’m feeling some phantom symptoms, but am not making any assumptions or getting excited about anything. We’ll see how it goes. Fingers crossed for a good week.

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blogging my journey

Welcome to my new blog. This is the place that I will be blogging about my ttc journey, as well as other things that go on in my life. I currently have another blog that I’ve been maintaining for years, but since ttc is such a personal thing and the people who read my other blog have no idea about our efforts, I’ve decided to keep them separate.

Some background about me: I’m 35, and have been married to my husband for two years. We’ve been ttc since December of 2007. I got a false positive on a digital pregnancy test my first cycle. My doctor confirmed that it wasn’t a chemical pregnancy, which was a relief. I’m currently taking Clomid in the hopes of moving things along. I’m on my second cycle, nearing O, so fingers crossed that this is my cycle.

The span of time since we started trying has been stress-filled. I was working two jobs, one of which was extremely stressful, to the point of it impacting my health. I was working on my masters thesis. I was burnt out. In April, I got laid off from said super stressful job, which was overall a good thing, but a huge stress, nonetheless. To make matters worse, between us The Boy (MH) and I were sick with the flu 5, count them, FIVE times in a three month period. Needless to say, not an environment conducive to conception.

In the past few months, things have improved. My part time job as a adjunct professor turned in to a full time appointment for the Fall, allowing me to recharge my batteries at home. I’m teaching a summer class and collecting unemployment. I’m finally starting to feel like myself again

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