Not the Positive I Want

Read it and weep ladies, because I sure did. That's a positive test...only it's the wrong kind of pee stick.

After some rather suspicious symptoms, I have just tested positive for blood cells in my urine, which means that the monster known as UTI has descended upon me after a 14-month reprieve during which I thought it had gone away forever. 

I'll be frank - for me, this is worse than a BFN because I'm such a wimp when it comes to this kind of pain. (And yet, I think I can do labor without meds. I so kid myself.)  I had a minor meltdown with Mr. Stick earlier today over it because I can't bear the thought of this thing dragging out for months like it did last time.

At least the antibiotics have started to kick in, and I no longer feel like there's broken glass in my nether regions. (Sorry, too descriptive?) I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that this thing will go away and stay away.

My acupuncturist wants me to get tested for ureaplasma/mycoplasma to see if maybe it's causing both the UTI and infertility. If this is the case, Dr. G. gets a big strike for not having tested me for it all in the first place, especially since he rubs elbows with my urologist. Hopefully, I'll get some answers, but right now, permanent relief from this beast is higher on the priority list.

On the bright side, we head out for California on Saturday, which is why I've been kind of absent from the blogosphere. Wrapping things up, packing, and all that. Once we're settled in, I promise to be more in touch and will pepper all your blogs with all the love and wit you can possibly bear.

Don't Ride If Pregnant

So one of the best things about being on a break is getting to do things pregnant women can't do - sushi, alcohol, and caffeine naturally come to mind, but at the top of the fun list is scary thrill rides. And while I didn't get on actual roller coasters per se, Mr. Stick and I played hooky today and went to Schlitterbahn, which is the best darn waterpark I've ever been to.

It's a ginormous, sprawling complex that's basically three mini-waterparks in one. The first time we went, we didn't get to everything. This week, they were running a saver special where they only opened two of the waterparks, and school is still in session, so we pretty much got to go on every major ride/slide 2-3 times. One of them we went somewhere between 6-8, we lost count.

Anyway, I really wish I'd had a camera on me (which I conveniently left at home because...duh, there's WATER EVERYWHERE) because on every sign before a big ride there was posted a big warning against expectant mothers riding, accompanied by this graphic of a stork carrying a baby and a big red/circle/slash on top of it. After seeing it for the umpteenth time, Mr. Stick goes, "Wow - that could be the international sign for infertility!"

LOL. That boy cracks me up.

Speaking of which, I have to shout out to my fellow bloggers who now cannot ride the "Master Blaster" or the "Dragon's Revenge" with me. Congratulations and sticky vibes to Leslie (Evolutionary Dead End), Adele (Delinquent Eggs), Type A (Type A Nightmare), Sew (Sew Infertile) and Samantha (And Baby Will Make 3). Here's hoping all of you except Samantha have a reason to change your blog names soon!

Perfect Moment Monday: A Second Slice of Cake

Thanks to DaisyGal for partially inspiring this post with her own sunny entry today. It's so much easier for me to blog about the bad days, the dark feelings, and the overall crap that falls into my life than to give equal attention to the sunny days when love and kindness seem to be overflowing. When things are good, why sit in front of a computer and write about it when I can be out there soaking up the goodness and living it?

But I recently finished reading Jenni Schaefer's latest book (I do work in the eating disorders field, and, for the sake of full disclosure, I have some personal history with them as well.), and in it she writes about journaling the good days as well as the bad, as a reminder and a source of solace when things get bad.

So my perfect moment? Eating my second slice of cake for the day.

There's the obvious interpretation in light of what I just wrote about having an eating disordered history, but fortunately it's so far in the distant past that what I eat barely registers in that way anymore. It's more of a reminder that I'm on a break, so I really don't need to watch what I eat this cycle in terms of caffeine, alcohol, and other not-so-good-for-TTC things. And that feels freeing.

The real reason, though, is that the cake is a souvenir from one of the best parties I have ever had the pleasure of throwing and attending yesterday. Mr. Stick turns 40 next week, and one of our closest friends is turning 80 on the same day. His wife and I joke about them being twins born 40 years apart, and it certainly speaks to something about horoscope signs and all because they really are very similar despite the age difference!

So with two landmark birthdays, we decided to throw an all-out shindig yesterday at their house (which is bigger and has a pool). There was lots of food and wine (and a keg!), close to 90(!) guests who dropped in and out over the course of the day, lion and dragon dancers, and even an impromptu jazz jam session (a lot of their friends are musicians) late in the evening.

Because of the big age difference between ourselves and our friends, the party guests covered every age demographic, from the newly-born to the not-quite-ready-for-the-senior-center crowd. There were at least two dozen kids of every age running about or splashing in the pool, most of which were our friends' offspring.

I noticed about a year ago that I've started to be a little distant around kids. I'm always friendly and tolerant, but I wouldn't really play with or engage with them in the way that I used to in the past. (I used to be an in-demand babysitter once upon a time.) I think it's because parents would invariably comment and ask me about having kids of my own, and it just became too difficult to deal with as the months of unsuccessful TTC dragged by.

And while it's a protective and reasonable thing to do, I've realized that it's also pretty selfish. I'm depriving myself and these kids-who-are-not-mine from a positive interaction just because I'm afraid of being wounded by a careless comment. So this party was a test for me, and I decided that I was going to give and get all the kid-love I wanted...because who knows how many opportunities I'll get if my womb stays empty?

So that's what I did, along with my secret weapon: Fetch-the-best-dog-ever. 

I got to carry around a fussy 1-year-old boy, defend a 4-year-old girl's right to another gingerbread cookie, help a 7-year-old boy navigate the swimming pool, taught an 8-year-old boy how to make Fetch do tricks for chicken nuggets, and banter with a couple of surprisingly articulate adolescents.

And yes, the comments did come - someone shouted out that I looked good with the 1-year-old on my hip - and his mother who doesn't know about IF made a comment about me being able to afford a baby now that DH has his new job. But I was full of wine and sun and kid-love, so they rolled away without leaving too much sting behind.

There were a lot of other great moments of catching up with busy friends, watching Fetch become a hit with the crowd of people, breaking out glow sticks when night fell, and simply splashing around with Mr. Stick. And towards the end of the day, the friends we threw the party with gave us a beautiful watercolor that the wife had painted that I've admired for a long time as a gift.

I cried some happy tears on the long car ride home.

Dream a Little Dream

I first started having pregnancy dreams shortly after Mr. Stick and I got together. They were pretty infrequent and never made it past the "BFP" stage, and for a long time they used to fill me with anxiety because I didn't feel ready for motherhood yet. I would always wake up relieved.

After we started TTC, I would still infrequently get these dreams and wake up terribly disappointed. The last such dream I remember having was the summer of 2009, and the dream had progressed to the point where a friend of mine was sending hand-me-downs from her twins(!) to me.

I knew that things weren't going well when suddenly I stopped dreaming of BFP's and started dreaming of BFN's. It wasn't bad enough that I had to experience disappointment in my real, waking life; apparently my subconscious decided it needed to remind me of my barrenness in my dreaming life as well.

A few months ago, I finally dreamt of a BFP again, but then after that came the miscarriage dreams - only two of them. I couldn't even blog about them - they haunted me terribly to the point where I wondered if it was even worth getting pregnant if I was only going to experience the kind of pain that my dreams merely hinted at.

And then last night, I dreamt I was pregnant again. Not just a BFP - I was in the hospital on my due date, waiting for my contractions to begin.

The sad thing about this dream is that IF had pervaded me so much to the point where I still didn't believe I was pregnant. My waistline was thick, but only a few inches larger than my current size, and I had gained only ten pounds. The nurse was debating whether to induce me, and I was arguing with her that I needed an ultrasound to confirm a heartbeat because I wasn't sure if I was pregnant, and I d*mn well knew that even if I was, I was too early along to even consider giving birth. I started crying, and I told her that nothing was even moving inside me, and this all seemed like a really cruel joke.

So she guides me into the ultrasound room, wands me, and I see a big smile come over the nurse's face. I look over (and remember folks that this is a dream), and it's not just a 3-D ultrasound, but a holographic representation of my baby. She's a girl, and she looks more like a 6-9 month old than a newborn - she has hair, her eyes are squeezed shut, and she is...beautiful. Not just beautiful in the "all babies are beautiful" sort of way but quite literally, physically beautiful in the way that I automatically think, "I'm going to be terrified the day she turns 15."

I worry about my lack of weight gain, and the nurse tells me that there is at least 15 pounds worth of baby and fluids in me (which is strange that she gave me a combined weight as opposed to the baby's weight), so I'm going to be just fine. (Which at that point, vain old me goes, "Wow - I won't even need to lose baby weight!")

Then we leave the room, and I see that a whole bunch of friends and family have come into the hospital to show their support and, in their words, "distract me" from all the pain I am about to experience. But I welcome the idea of the pain because I am happy and not scared anymore.

Waking up sucked big time. It took me a few moments to even realize that I had been asleep and dreaming, and all I wanted to do was crawl into that dream again and see the whole thing through.

I'm glad that my subconscious is feeling hopeful, even if the rest of me isn't quite there yet. And maybe this will sound pathetic, but a part of me is really happy that I know a little now what it feels like to really be pregnant...even if those feelings are just shadows of the real experience...and even if it was only in my dreams.

F*ck, Are You For Serious?

As if we didn't have enough sh*t to worry about: Infertility Drugs Raise Autism Risk?

Happy May ICLW!

Thanks for stopping by my blog! If you're new, the post with all our IF details is here.

The Current State of Things

After 3 Clomid cycles (2 with IUI), Mr. Stick and I are sitting this next one (and probably the one after that as well) out. There were a couple of reasons why - we're preparing for a big trip, we get better insurance next month, but the most important one is that I just plain realized that I needed to take a break.

So no meds and no procedures (and no wands up my hoohah!), but I'm still doing weekly acupuncture, taking vitamins (though not as religiously) and temping because my acupuncturist reads my chart each week. We'll see if I have the willpower to stay away from the OPK's in the next two weeks.

Oh, and the strange and sad thing is within a week of taking a break, I got four pregnancy announcements. One from my best friend, which I didn't take so well, one from a really good childhood friend, one from a local buddy, and lastly a surprise birth announcement from a friend of Mr. Stick's. Sigh - I feel like I'm starving in the midst of plenty.

And While I Have Your Attention...

I figured I'd pass along two really great offers that might interest you, dear reader.

1) Beckie's Infertility Journey is giving away an Ultimate Fertility Package this month.

Girlfriend is giving away an OV-Watch starter Kit, Pre-Seed , Fertility Socks, A Few Good Eggs Fertility Book, and chocolate and herbal tea. Go to her website to get the details on how to sign up for the offer. And just to let you know, even though I'm signed up too, if I can't win it, then I'll be just as happy if you win it!

2) This isn't really IF-related, but Zoya Nail Polish is running their nail polish exchange through June 30.

Zoya makes a toluene, phtalate-free nail polish that's pretty popular among preggies. The way their exchange works is, you mail in 6 or more of your old nail polishes plus $3.50 s&h for each bottle you mail in. Then, they'll mail you back the same number of Zoya nail polishes - you can pick from about 300 different colors. It's a good way to get rid of your old, toxic crap and get some new colors in for sandal season.

That's it! Thanks for dropping by - leave me a comment, and I'll do my best to return it. This community has given me so much support and love that I'm always happy to pay it forward.

Gifts from the Universe

I'm a bit of a mess right now. Although I managed to pull myself from the brink of last week's meltdown, I'm still having moments when I realize I'm a complete emotional basketcase. Getting two pregnancy announcements in addition to last week's bomb has not helped this at all. Although I'm laughing them off, my wounds are still fresh and tender, and I find myself inexplicably on the edge of tears at strange and unpredictable moments, with no ability to articulate why I'm in so much pain.

This feels a lot like nursing a broken heart. I've been with Mr. Stick for more then ten years now, but you don't forget what it feels like to break up with someone and feel the carpet of the future you imagined roughly pulled out from under you. I guess I must be grieving, which I didn't expect would happen when I decided to take break. It's like when you work really hard for a few weeks and the first moment you get a break, your body decides it can get sick on you. For whatever reason, my body really just wants to be sad and gloomy right now.

And being the type A that I am, my reaction is, "This is sooooo not the time for you to pull this on me, Stickles. I gave you a TTC break, not an all-access pass to watch tv, read trashy books, take naps, and cry! You have project deadlines to meet!"

But the strange and wonderful thing is that I've been noticing since last week that the universe seems to be making room for my need to be a vegetable and work through some of my muck:

• One of my non-profit clients has been a complete PITA for me in the last year. They are constantly cheaping out on IT and web projects, which create long-term issues that I end up having to contend with down the line. Well, last week, a couple come forward and volunteered to redo and take over their website in exchange for a service this client provides. My initial reaction was, "Oh shit, they're cheaping out again." But then I realized that here was an opportunity to unload this client without leaving them up a creek. So I let go of my attachment to them, and that burden was lifted.
• I've been scrambling to get another client project finished by the end of this week. Last night, it stormed so hard that our power kept going out, so I finally shut down my computer and curled up with "Olive Kittridge" (a rather depressing book, btw). Then today, the client called and told me she'd be out all next week, which means I have a whole other week to finish said project. 

And the biggest gift of all? 

I'm going to home to California for the summer. Surprise! This has actually been in the works for a few months, but it has finally taken shape over the last two weeks. Mr. Stick has taken on a new position with a tech company headquartered in northern California, and they want him out there for training this summer. They would've paid for him to fly back and forth every week and put him in a hotel while he was there, but Mr. Stick proposed that it would cost just as much to fly us both out there for the whole time and put us up in a short-term rental.

(Both DH and I do computer-based work from home, so we're pretty portable. In fact, the only reason why we've stuck around Austin for so long lately is so I can get fertility treatment.)

I've found us the perfect sublet in the Mission District - it's a block from a shuttle that would take Mr. Stick to work, a block from a ZipCar lot if I need to grab a car, and a few blocks from the BART train which allows me to go to the East Bay and visit my mom. We'll be really close to a yoga studio so that I can get back into my practice.

We'll also only be a short bus ride from a fertility acupuncture clinic and the Pacific Fertility Center (which was recommended by Dr. G.) if I decide to keep up with treatments while I'm there. I'm not sure how I feel about starting with a new center, but I like having the option. Also, I have to admit that with this new job, we'll have some infertility coverage (not IVF, but everything else), which had an influence over why I decided to take a break now.

So, I know in my head that there's a lot of things to look forward to, even though my heart hasn't quite gotten up to speed with things. And I just have to put this out there - if the universe is in the mood for sending me gifts, could it please send me a B-A-B-Y while it's at it?