Archives for the month of: May, 2012

Take a guess as to what the second F stands for…

Laparoscopy date is pending, but will likely be sometime in July. Happy summer to me. I’ve never had a surgery before, never had anesthesia before, and am more than a little nervous.

In other news, we’re building a fence and giving our backyard a facelift. The plants (and there are A LOT of them) are due to arrive in the next few weeks. I think that will cheer me up.

A grandparent was picking up her grandson after school the other day while I was on duty. She came over to me and congratulated me on my baby. Sorry lady, you got the wrong blond teacher. You wanted the blond one who can actually HAVE babies.


In more delightful news, this is killing me with hilarity. Oh man.

-Crampy, Period-y, Blond But Not Pregnant,  Always Regular Van.


Another teacher announced she is pregnant today.

If you’re keeping track (you know I am), that’s still only 2, but you have to understand my school. We are a motley crew made up of all sorts, but for the most part, our staff is made up of single-ish women or older married ladies who had kids ages ago. Pickings are slim for those of child-bearing age and who even want kids.

So 2 kind of feels like a lot of preggos to be walking these halls. You remember I have one RIGHT NEXT DOOR TO ME, right? The 40-year old who had a “surprise”–“Who has 3 kids?”, she asked me, after announcing her pregnancy at the camping trip so many months ago.

I’d frigging love to, that’s who.

I saw the newly pregnant teacher this morning, and spotted a little bump happening. I thought about asking, but then remembered how mortified I always am when people ask (which seems to happen on the regs), so I kept schtum. Then I heard her come out of the principal’s office and the principal was squealing in delight. Again, no one said anything to me, but I am a good detective. I put two and two together.

She came to talk to me before the kids came in this morning because apparently, she heard from someone that I am in the same situation she was in. She had a hard time. She struggled to get pregnant and then to keep a pregnancy. I squealed in genuine delight for her (I have a lot of love for those of us who have a hard time–not so much for those who have 40-year old “surprises”), and we did big hugs. As we were hugging, she told me “It will happen” and then we both got teary, which is crazy because she’s like a rock. We hugged some more, we weeped some more, she told me about her experiences (which again was kind of crazy because we’re not that close and she doesn’t share a lot of information about her personal life), and I told her how happy I was for her. She will be an incredible mother–there is no doubt in my mind. This woman is the most phenomenal teacher we have here, and certainly the best that I have seen in my career.

So the day carried on, and I held myself together. Then came recess. All these kids came running up to me telling me that this teacher is pregnant and she’s having a girl!!!

Like, every kid.

Like, kids I don’t teach.

Like, kids I’ve never taught.

My friend pulled me aside and said, “Did you hear?” (she knows what I’m going through). I told her that we had spoken and it was really nice, and she just said how sorry she was that I had to deal with this.

I kept going. No wavering, no problem. I was there to teach, and teach I did. I was maybe a little more snappy with the kids than usual, but sometimes that’s good for them.

Then lunch rolled around. Again, there was a frigging parade of children letting me know (because apparently, I need to know even more) that the teacher is pregnant and she’s having a girl!!!!

I put on my big girl smile and shared in their excitement, and then escaped quickly to pick up my attendance. Well, wouldn’t you know it. The conversation in the office was all about preggers, of course!

That’s when I lost my shit. I was walking up the stairs with two teachers who I consider friends and we were discussing our standing Friday date at the local pub. One teacher was saying how ready he was to get there, which of course I agreed with and said, “You have no idea”, which then resulted in tears and the other teacher asking if I was alright.

Nope. I’m not.

I ran to my room and closed the door and then proceeded to hyperventilate.




This has never happened to me before. Like, I seriously couldn’t breathe normally. My hands started going all pins-and-needles-y, and my feet felt numb. I called J, still hyperventilating, and he was calm but in a “holy shit, my wife is freaking, so I can’t, but I kind of am inside” sort of way.

I was supposed to be in a lunch hour meeting about this stupid standardised test that’s coming up, but I couldn’t get my shit together. My friend encouraged me to ditch the meeting and go out for lunch.

Best thing I could have done.

Ugh. Today has been really, really hard.


So I may or may not have had a major freak-out last night, which may or may not have caused me to convince myself I had ovulated too late for the IUIs to have done anything.

I may or may not have bugged out so hard that I had to turn off my Circle+Bloom meditation program because my breathing started speeding up.

I also may or may not have spent the hours between midnight – 2:00 AM conducting the following Google searches:

  • i didn’t ovulate iui
  • ovulation not confirmed progesterone suppositories
  • iui pain
  • does progesterone stop ovulation
  • ovidrel
  • ovidrel success rates
  • how long does washed sperm live
  • timing of iui

I also may or may not have yelled at poor J ON HIS BIRTHDAY because I spent a restless night freaking out about whether this cycle was a bust or not and not knowing what to do about it while feeling definite ovulation pain, and maybe kind of resenting the fact that he was sound asleep while all this freaking out was going on.

I may or may not have used yet another sick day to return to the clinic like a crazy lady, and sputter out some nonsensical ramblings about not ovulating and maybe needing a third IUI and not knowing what to do and should I start the progesterone and I swear I’m not crazy but I know it sounds like I am…

I may or may not have spoken to the sweetest nurse in the world who sent me for an ultrasound to see if I’d ovulated, who told me I had two teams working for me. Two teams? “Two teams of sperm are in there looking for that egg”, she may or may not have said to me, while looking at me with an expression that could best be described as a mix of “let’s get this crazy calmed STAT”, and genuine caring. I may or may not have said to her that I don’t usually spaz out like this, I swear, this is my first major bug out, I swear…

My doctor may or may not have seen me after the ultrasound and asked me if I was okay, to which I apparently couldn’t formulate an answer, so he brought me into his office to talk. During this meeting, I may or may not have been repeating the mantra “I can control the flood that is creeping into my eyes right now/You will not break down here”, while listening to him explain that the timing for the IUIs was perfect, that I shouldn’t lose sleep over this (um, too late for that one, sir), and that I had probably ovulated yesterday afternoon or early evening.

I may or may not love my sweet husband even more for encouraging me to go to the clinic to put my mind at ease and to come with me this morning. He may or may not have smeared his face with the chocolate from his muffin to make me laugh, and then forced me to kiss him so he could call me a “chocolate face!!!”, which I know was all done in the name of making me laugh and trying to get me to chill out for just a second. It may or may not have worked a treat.

All of this may or may not have happened, but as I said above, I admit nothing :).

-Keeping Shtum Regular Van

The waiting now officially begins. The IUI went off without a hitch, though Dr. let me know that my body “looks like it’s about to ovulate”, then reminded me that Ovidrel makes 98% of women ovulate (and it’s always worked for me in the past). Kind of nerve-wracking, though. I’ve never been told at my second IUI that I haven’t ovulated yet.

Anyway, the good news to that is that I get to hold off on starting the progesterone until tomorrow morning. Thank heavens for small miracles.

J has a conference 2 hours out of town this week, so he’s been in a big rush these past couple of days. We talked yesterday about him not sticking around for the IUI after he dropped off his sample. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of this yesterday, but I said it was fine if that’s what he needed to do. And I meant it–I didn’t mean “fine” in that wifey way that really means it’s not fine.

Then we get to today. I was super emotional last night, but I was on my own, so no one saw me weeping while watching the documentary of Elmo’s puppeteer. And I mean weeping.

I felt fine when I walked into the clinic, but when J came over to wait with me to get my blood taken and preparing to say goodbye, I lost my shit a little bit. I started crying which I have never done in the clinic before–not even at our first meeting. I can keep it together in there for some reason. Not today, however. I told J I didn’t think I could do the IUI alone, and I needed him there. I’ve done 6 of these things already. I know the drill. I needed him there, though.

Reflecting on it now, I realize I had never really thought about how intimate the IUIs really are, and the emotional weight that is connected to them. The process itself is quick, but it’s not necessarily the physical act of it that I needed J there for. I initially thought that it’s pretty much the same as getting a pap test done, but I can see now that I don’t really believe that. I’m being injected with sperm that could potentially result in a baby. That’s kind of heavy, and this is supposed to be a partnership (and it is, don’t get me wrong–J is incredibly supportive). I feel like most of this journey has been a solo flight–I’m coming to the regular appointments, I’m getting blood taken on the regs, and I have a long-standing date with my friend Dildo Cam. I don’t mind doing that on my own, but I feel like when we get to the stage where something could actually happen, J should be there. I think he knew that, too.

May 28th is the date for my pregnancy test. I have a surprising amount of hope and positive feeling about this cycle. I can’t explain it, but I feel like this is my time. For the first time ever, I’ve started to be able to visualize myself pregnant, then with a baby, then with a school-aged child. I feel confident that I am going to be a mum. This is all new for me.

Sending big love out to wannabeayummymommy and her man today. It’s a big day for them, and these two deserve nothing but awesomely amazing news. Everything is crossed for you, girl.

-This time might just be it Regular Van

Round 1 of this cycle’s IUIs is complete.

In the left corner, measuring in at a substantial 20.5 mm, Folli “the baby maker” Eggerson!

And in the right corner, measuring in at…oh wait, Folli wins by default, as he’s going unchallenged.

According to Dr., one egg is just fine for a young pup like me (I will never get tired of him telling me I’m young). He explained today that traditional ovulation predictors don’t work for women with PCOS, as their hormones are all wacked. Interesting, as I used to use them and they turned positive when I thought I should have been ovulating.

Big thanks to Lori at Wanted: Family of Three for my fancy IUI socks. I couldn’t wait to be able to wear them! Koi fish are supposed to bring luck…let’s hope these swimmers (and J’s!) do their jobs this month.

A very flattering (!!) shot of Kois and stirrups. Yes, those are oven gloves on the stirrups.


My mum bought me a blanket. She didn’t say why, but I know it was a “this should really be from your own children on Mother’s Day” kind of gift.

I have the best mum ever. She doesn’t read this blog, but I am the luckiest lady to have grown up with her as my role model.

P.S. After I told her what my naturopath said to me, she said, “Speaking of, you should read Shades of Grey”. Amazing.

-Mum lovin’ Regular Van

…that’s the goal, direct from my naturopath.

Did I mention this was the SECOND time I’ve met this woman? Thankfully, I have had adequate experience with people sans filter that I don’t think I even flinched when she said this.

So let’s backtrack. I had my second appointment with the naturopath yesterday. I’ve been feeling pretty good lately and was happy to report my progress. Her first question was not “Are you pregnant?”, which I appreciated, but “how’s your libido?”. It’s improving, that’s for sure, because it was pretty much non-existent for a while there. She was very excited. I also got to tell her that things are getting a lot juicier in the nether regions. She nearly squealed, but instead responded with the now famous phrase:

We want you wet and horny. That’s what gets babies made.

Oh Dr., I love you.

She then took my pulse to check in on the liver stasis she felt at my first appointment, and also to feel for the dampness she felt last time as well (pulse dampness). She said my pulse was “beautiful”, the dampness was gone and the liver stasis had greatly improved. “Your body is healing itself”. I nearly cried.

You need to understand that I have a long, long history with traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) and never have I heard that I had a strong, healthy pulse. This is progress, big time.

I told her where I was in my cycle, and she nearly jumped out of her chair while asking me if she could do some acupuncture on me. Of course, was my reply. Now, I wasn’t prepared to take my leggings off, but I figured she could deal with my super hairy legs. She did a million belly points (I’ve never had that many), two leg points, two hand points, and 4 ear points (this was new to me, too). Her technique was gentle with no manipulation of the needles once they were in. The ear points hurt going in, but the pain was gone in a second or two. I had a glorious acupuncture nap, and awoke refreshed and calm. It was a great experience.

She concluded that these big changes were likely due to my massive reduction in dairy consumption. She figures for me, it’s beyond lactose intolerance and more likely a sensitivity to the proteins in dairy. I don’t miss it, and still have the occasional piece of pizza. The fact that she can see a difference in 5 weeks is motivation enough to keep off it. She reiterated what I have always known but need to be reminded of frequently: my body needs really good stuff put into it on the regs.

We left with not making an appointment, but with two possible scenarios: if I fall pregnant (I love that phrase), I’m calling her to share the news because I’ll hardly have anyone to tell at that early stage, or I call on day 1 of my period to set up an appointment for sometime between day 9 and 12. I appreciated that she said the first option first. I like hope in other people. She believes my body can do this on its own now. No one has told me that yet.

All in all, an awesome appointment. I really do love her!

-Not yet a Slip ‘N Slide but getting better Regular Van