donor sperm, IUI, ovulation, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

23 million

Go, swimmers, go!

I got my smiley-face yesterday afternoon: sigh of relief. Called Olga. Fortunately, I don’t seem to have lingering angry feelings toward her. We’ve moved on. She cheerfully set up my appointment for 1:15 today, just 45 minutes after my IUI last month. I’ve duplicated every detail of last month to the best of my ability.

Today, I left work around 12:15. I thought about rushing home to get Mojo, but decided nah–Mojo is with me in my heart. I needed to grab lunch.

I had chicken pho and limonata Pelligrino at My Father’s Kitchen, a Vietnamese restaurant near UCSF. I wondered whether Dr. Tran goes there for lunch, and if so whether it reminds him of his father’s (or mother’s) kitchen back in Vietnam. As I was finishing, I thought I saw him walk in, in scrubs. My mind raced: what if it’s him? What if it’s not him? Am I thinking all Vietnamese doctors look alike? He was seated right behind me. After studying the back of his head as I got up to leave, I decided that my Dr. Tran didn’t have a bald spot and wasn’t that short and didn’t wear scrubs and wouldn’t slurp his soup like that. Still, it seemed like a good sign in a moment when I was looking for signs.

Then I sat in the waiting room enjoying my last moments of peace before the two week wait.

After being called into the exam room, I had some more time to think. This time, I thought, I’m going to focus on reducing stress in all respects, every day. Which is a good goal no matter what you’re trying to do in life, no?

Same drill on this fourth round IUI–the nurse practitioner was Dr. J and she was nice and ultra-efficient. We reviewed McPiercy’s donor number, total motile (rhymes!): 23 million, and overall motility “moving fast / hyperactivated.” I am not kidding you: from speculum to “great ovulation mucus, so bonus on the timing!” to “the sample is going in” to “take care!” was probably 3.5 minutes.

She left me in the room for 5-10 minutes to relax, and I thought, “I love you, baby.” I felt a symbolic lightning bolt strike down from the heavens.

And then, I went about my biz.

I’ve done a lot of thinking since my “heroine” post in which everyone was expecting details of my new drug addiction, ostensibly the latest method for handling the stress of trying to conceive. (Yes, the “e” in “heroine” is critical!) I was trying to put a positive spin on what was otherwise a somber post. First conclusion: when it came down to it, I really needed sleep. I slept 9 hours and the next morning felt like a million bucks.

Second, it’s OK to sometimes feel low. When I’m in that mode, I tend to focus on the things I’m missing in life, even while there is a huge abundance of wonderfulness staring me in the face. I read a good quote yesterday in someone’s email signature that said, “Pessimists see the difficulty in opportunity while optimists see the opportunity in difficulty.” Right on.

Third, the universe has sent me quite a flurry of evidence in the last 24 hours that I do, in fact, attract the attention of men. The universe also sent a PS that these men, while they do exist, are just wildly and hilariously inappropriate matches for me right now. These include the guy on the 38 Geary bus who introduced himself as a veteran in his 50s who finds me “very sweet,” the handyman in the line outside Kelly-Moore who started singing a song precisely as I walked by that began with “bonita,” and a guy who emailed me on OK Cupid to suggest that we meet for coffee followed by a “purely lighthearted best-of-five wrestle.” You know I’m not making this stuff up!

The fact is, there’s only one man in my life right now: McPiercy. He’s hot. He gives me my space. He provides me with millions of fast-moving sperm and lets me have my way 100% of the time. AND he’s helping me pursue my biggest life goal. I’ll tell you all about him once he knocks me up (again).

Meanwhile, I’ll be over here relaxing like crazy.


acupuncture, dating, ovulation, parenthood, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc


It’s Tuesday night. (and my sister’s birthday, happy birthday B!) I’m camped on my big yellow couch in sweats watching the last rays of sunshine light up the north-facing buildings stacked between me and Buena Vista Park. The sky is so clear and the days are so long…and I know from so many years of being a San Franciscan that big summer fog is right around the corner, as is, fortunately, my escape to real summer in Michigan. This Sunday!

I woke up feeling so tired… the weekend in Sebastopol was fabulous, the best kind of therapeutic girl time, and I returned feeling something like jet lag after keeping slumber party hours for two nights in a row. On top of that, last night I splurged on two cocktails which seemed like a good idea given that it might be my last chance for a while. I don’t know if it’s age or weeks/months of sobriety or my new focus on fitness in recent years, but drinking multiple cocktails once in a blue moon generally makes me feel some shade of terrible.

After a lackluster work day followed by acupuncture, I feel totaled. I had planned on seeing Beans at meditation followed by a drink with Ms. R (who is inspiring me with her optimism), but I just had to come home. At this point, I’m working to stay awake until a reasonable bedtime, like 9:30.

Three more days of work, and I am out of here for two weeks.

I found myself remembering vacation of a year ago, traveling to Alaska with D., meeting tons of his family and promising his brother that when we came back this year we’d be married and pregnant. Then the trip to Michigan where I took him around to all the beautiful sights and he was nonplussed and I was going out of my mind with aggravation.

Acknowledging that dating is not my priority right now, tonight I wish I had someone here with me. Someone who would give me big smiles and attention. Maybe it’s that I’m about to ovulate, but I’m suddenly noticing all the affectionate couples on the street, thinking huh. Remember that?

One SMC friend was saying how right after her BFN her impulse was to go online dating, and I said, “That makes total sense–you want to create love in your life, either this way or that.” Me too. What a waste that I am spending so many years as an impatient single lady when I have piles of love for the guy of many plusses. . But I am seriously out of ideas on how to find him.

The baby love, on the other hand, is a lot more under my control, although still not under my control. I’ve noticed that now, having once been pregnant, I feel like mentally I’m a bit more prepared for it to happen again. I can talk about “when I’m pregnant” and not feel like a total fraud. Still… I’m on Day 14 and so far negative OPKs, seemed like tonight it was beginning to change color (yes, I’m testing twice a day), EWCM (not that I’m checking), and I’m hopeful that the positive will be tomorrow. Perhaps it’s later since my body is probably reorienting itself a bit.

All this raging feminist debate online about “having it all” also has me furious–good, important debate, but disappointing that it leaves out single moms (who, ps, are the majority of families) and those of us who are resigned to not having it all and wouldn’t even tease ourselves with that notion. Add on top of that SF and crazy rents and me in a studio still doing a 1040EZ… You guys, how is this all going to work?

Over the weekend, I found myself peeing on a stick in Samuel P. Taylor State Park on a hike, telling my friends, “Please tell my kid how much I went through for this.”

I appreciate this quote of Nora Ephron, who died today, “Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.”

OK, Nora. After an ice cream bar and some sleep, I will.

IUI, outdoors, pregnancy loss, privacy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait, writing


I saw Dr. Tran on Wednesday, and I love him. I’m definitely noticing a falling-in-love trend with every male doctor I encounter in this process (is it ethical to date the guy who draws your blood? who causes you pain during a procedure? who gets you pregnant?). But Dr. T. has my heart for real.

He invited me into his office and I said, “I’m seeing you at 4pm and last time I saw you at 7am–you must work long days,” and he said, “Yes, I typically work from 7 until about 6, but I love what I do, so I can’t complain.” Aw.

At first, he assumed that I was there to talk about interventions (i.e. meds) but I quickly realized that Olga had conveyed to him exactly nothing about my recent experience. Which didn’t surprise me, since she acted like it never happened. On the bright side, I got to tell him myself, including the part about how Olga let me know over the phone (“I just can’t figure out how you got two positive tests. Was the test expired?”).

He turned his monitor toward me and asked me to show him on the calendar the day of my IUI, followed by the days of the positive pregnancy tests. He said, “OK, yes. You were pregnant. It’s what we call a “biochemical pregnancy.” He compassionately acknowledged the emotional side of what I had just gone through, and said, “But from a medical point of view, I take this as very good news. You don’t have fertility issues. Everything works!”

He even said he would make a gentle suggestion to Olga about how to approach this type of situation. (i.e. in Me vs. Olga, I won.)

I realized that the whole reason I set up the appointment was to hear him say all of the above. And he said it! More than once! I said, “You can say it again, if you want!” (PS do you want to get coffee after this?)

In a nutshell, since everything is working, it’s probably just a matter of time. No need to introduce hormones or trigger shot or ultrasounds for now. He said that if he were in my shoes, he would give it a total of 6 unmedicated tries. I told him about Rio at the end of August, and how that seems to be a natural turning point, after 5 tries (so: 2 more). At that point, if nothing’s happening, I can Rio-valuate.

I practically skipped out of there. It makes me realize how important it is to feel validated. I couldn’t really get through this until I knew for sure that it happened.

Validation is so important in this process. I feel its importance both when I’m talking to women who are down about another BFN (big fat negative) or going crazy in the 2 week wait, and I try to say things to cheer them up–but sometimes I’m missing that they just need someone to listen, to hear them right where they are. I feel it when people say to me, “Can you just be more laid back–put it out of your mind, go about your biz, pretend it’s not happening? The stress can’t be helping…” and it’s like UM, SURE I’d love to do that. Can you tell me how? Because, as much as it really is a great idea, I am incapable right now of just Being Less Stressed. Where I’m at is: losing my mind to hope and fear and joy and disappointment. I know it’s uncomfortable, but…can you meet me there?

I’ve also been giving a lot of thought to the blog and the public play by play. Because it’s all about me, total self-absorption, and that’s not how I live my life–I would write about all of you if I thought I could get away with it! The way I see it, this would all be going on in my head, only in a more chaotic, messy format, so the fact of keeping a blog is not influencing how excited or sad or freaked out I get. The blog helps me get it out of my head (which is positive) and helps me rally support around me (which I need). So, it’s win-win for me. Sometimes, though, I feel sorry for you, dear readers, dragged along on all my ups and downs. But, I won’t apologize… It takes two to tango: I’m not forcing your eyeballs onto these words. 😉

Thanks for being here. It’s messy, huh?

Finishing up my work day and heading home to pack for Girl Weekend in Sebastopol. Could this be any better timed? On the agenda, we have a hot tub, canoeing, a rodeo, yummy food, margaritas, yoga, stars, and five amazing ladies. Thumbs up!

acupuncture, meditation, outdoors, pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc


I am sleepy but at least wanted to say a couple of things tonight. In bullets. Because I’ve had a long workday and don’t know whether I can coherently collect my thoughts otherwise.

  • On Saturday, I went to get a pedicure with an SMC friend and it was so perfect because we could just nod at each other wide-eyed and say, “I know.” What is more comforting than that? I usually pick a dark burgundy but that day I went with a neon pink-orange. I stare at my toes fondly when my shoes are off.
  • My sister came over for dinner on Saturday night–I ordered a pizza and she showed up with kale and coconut water and mint chocolate cookie Ben & Jerry’s. I cried to her but the intensity of the sadness was waning. We also laughed–she told me stories about my nieces in Baltimore, like when almost-four-year-old E piped up at the table, “This lunch is FASCINATING!”
  • On Sunday, I took my 3-inch roots and too-long hair to the salon for a much-needed cut/color. I had her cut off 2 inches, trim the layers, and go back to my natural color FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE COLLEGE. This is a big deal. I started coloring my hair at age 21, going for an artificial raspberry but ending up with something that looked natural. For years, I used henna, then graduated to salons and color experimentation (strawberry blonde, red red, black cherry). And now, I’m a brunette. A bit golden brown with the lighter color peeking through, but to me it looks dark. To me, it looks like I am me. And it feels really important, like I am owning the me that was always underneath. Getting to know her in a new context. She likes bright nail polish.
  • It will be/is revolutionary to think about not having to worry about roots. I have been chasing them for 17 years! Also, I will save a lot of money. It’s kind of ridiculous that I’m stopping just in time to go gray. But I’m not gray yet, so let’s just watch it appear gradually like the sunrise.
  • Yesterday, I met my friend and trainer R for a regular training session. It was the first time since the day I got the positive test at the gym. I found myself back in all the same spots for the first time since that day: the bathroom stall where I peed on a stick, the back office where we jumped up and down. I was a little melancholy through the workout.
  • At the end of the session, I asked R if he had a client after me, and he said no. So I said,mockingly offended, then why aren’t you running with me? And he trumped me with: I am! Ha HA! So we ran! Through the glorious and glowing city at 6pm with the sun high in the sky, along the Embarcadero (first time running there since falling 2 weeks ago), along Mission Bay, up Potrero Hill (to the top), checking out the killer views and fancy houses, exploring around, back down through UCSF, 1.5 hours. God, I needed that run. Running renews me like nothing else. Grateful to R for making it happen and acting like he was going to surprise me all along whereas I sensed he decided on the spot. He knew I needed it and I think he needed it too after his first Father’s Day without his dad. It was a magical run.Image
  • Afterward, I met an old friend for dinner. Or, he drank tea while I ate several plates of food and drank pitchers of water and tea after all the miles I ran. I have found that while the whole SMC gig can be difficult for guys to understand (thus the cross-eyed look until they have time to process), every human I’ve spoken to about my brief but joyful pregnancy totally gets it and says all the right things.
  • Today is Day 7 already: I did therapy, acupuncture, meditation. Dr. Tran tomorrow. I am feeling better.
meditation, outdoors, pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

moving through

First, thanks to everyone who has called, emailed, texted, or come over to pull me off the couch. I realized today that I’ve been accepting calls but not initiating them, so if I haven’t called you back, it’s because I would probably cry anew each time and I feel like I’ve achieved some equilibrium. I really appreciate that you called. I heard from every single person I expected to hear from (even noticed a couple missing…hmm, what about C and the W’s…and then checked my work voicemail and there they were). I quite literally could not do this without you and have no idea how anyone does it with any less than an army of supporters!!! I am a very lucky girl.

For the last two meeting-filled work days, I kept up a minimum of productivity while working from home. At the end of the last meeting yesterday, I felt like I had just limped/crawled across the finish line of the work week and collapsed on the couch for a deep and disorienting two-hour nap.

I had dinner plans with my friend I. and her call came in when I was just emerging from deep, dark couch slumber–her idea was to go to the Cheesecake Factory followed by retail therapy at the mall. At first I was like, “Do you know who I am?” (i.e. a snob who hates shopping) but, somehow, the suggestion was kind of perfect. I tried to picture the polar opposite–the two of us sharing a bottle of wine in the dim corner of some neighborhood ethnic restaurant and somehow that was terrible. I just saw myself crying into the wine glass. Bring on the crowds, pumping music, uber-sized portions, and Union Square.

Of course, after two dinner-sized appetizers, we didn’t need dinner at all. That place is ridiculous. Two beers and I was soused. We then did some dress shopping for Rio (fun). My friend I. is a very matter-of-fact person–she’s a scientist, a commitment-phobe, and on the less emotional end of the spectrum–a good reflector of rationality. She empathized and remains greatly hopeful for my chances. She also has an older sister who just went through yet another failed round of IVF (several times, she has carried to 8 weeks, then miscarried).

Someone always has it worse, which is good perspective. But it doesn’t mean that whatever level of sadness you’re going through is any less real.

I feel the weight of it today because it’s Saturday and a lot of my plans have evaporated and I don’t have to keep my chin up for any reason. I have the usual boring shit to do: work I let slip last week, clean up, postpone jury duty, finally make a hair appointment as it has gotten out-of-control long with 3-inch roots. I absolutely need to get outside for a run. Then dinner with my sister (cue the waterworks).

I got Olga on the phone yesterday. She said something like, “there’s no way to know without having done the blood test earlier,” since, apparently, in her world, nothing really happens unless it is reflected in data from the lab. But she relented that it was likely a chemical pregnancy and I told her how important it is to me to know that my body is capable of getting pregnant, and she maybe got it, a little bit. I recognize that she was just the messenger, so we’ll leave it there.

More importantly, I am looking ahead. I have an appointment with my RE, Dr. Tran, on Wednesday to discuss my options for round 4. By then, I will be almost peeing on a stick.

And even more importantly than that, I just bought a ticket for two weeks on Lake Michigan with my family, best place on earth to endure the two week wait.


pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC

my chemical pregnancy

A little googling reveals the following definition on

‘A chemical pregnancy is like a cruel joke. You take an early pregnancy test around the time your period is due that shows a faint positive. Naturally, you get excited and start spreading the joyful news that you’re expecting. Then, a few days later you get your period and the doctor says, “It was just a chemical pregnancy.” Meanwhile, you’re left confused and possibly devastated. The term chemical pregnancy sounds like a false positive pregnancy test, as if you were not really pregnant at all. But the truth is that a chemical pregnancy was indeed a conception and is actually a very early miscarriage.’

In nutshell, the egg is fertilized and begins implantation but, for probably good reasons like genetic abnormalities, didn’t hang on. It’s called “chemical” because the hormone yields a positive on the test, but that’s about where it ends.

This sounds right to me, especially after reading account after account in online discussion boards of exactly what I just went through. In my case, however, the nurse did *not* say it was a chemical pregnancy; she said she just couldn’t figure out how I ever got two positive tests as I must never have been pregnant given my low beta. Still, it’s outrageous that she wouldn’t have even mentioned the possibility of a chemical pregnancy when it sounds like they’re extremely common (online research says that up to 70% of conceptions end in miscarriage). Most of the time, the woman isn’t necessarily monitoring her cycle with military precision, so a chemical pregnancy can appear to be merely a late period.

To humor nurse Olga, I did pull the test box out of the recycling bin and it lists the expiration as February 2014. I just don’t believe that two tests independently malfunctioned to produce two positive results. Especially when my now heavier-than-ever period arrived 3 days later than my longest-ever cycle (Day 31). I’m hanging on for dear life to the conclusion that I was pregnant. So, I’m basically done with what Olga thinks and have requested an appointment with the doctor.

Meanwhile, this blog isn’t about Olga. (I just feel so mad at her!) How am I doing?

As you know from this blog, if not from experience, it’s hard enough when it simply doesn’t work in any given month. Well, I just spent 5 days thinking, believing, sensing that I was building a human, from scratch. Feeling bewildered, ecstatic, anxious, thrilled, and all the emotions that go along with the magnitude of that. I felt calm. I looked like I swallowed a canary. Every day, I felt a little more certain that this was it–how could it not be? I’m healthy, tests are good. I even had smug moments–I figured it out! I got ‘er done! I joined the club! I looked at online pregnancy calendars, planning out my life. I moved another phase of problem-solving–OB referrals, ultrasounds, where will I store my leftover vial… Shit, I need to move out of this studio!

And in quiet moments, I sat with the poppy seed, and that was enough.

I am so grateful to my friend A who reminded me to enjoy every day of being pregnant. Even if it ends early (as it did once for her), no one can take away that experience of sharing the news with people you love–and how much more fun to say, “I am,” instead of “I was.”

I’ll never forget everyone’s reactions. I know next time they’ll be a little more hesitant (as will my own). It was really the best 5 days that reflected to me all the love in my life and in the life of my child to be. That little poppy seed brought me all that! What a powerful albeit tiny bundle of cells moving emotional mountains over here!!

I’m really sad. My head knows nothing super bad really happened, but my heart is grieving.

Thanks especially to my friend J who was staying with me this week and went from a joyful uncle to protective big brother in the space between Sunday and Wednesday. He did my expense report for me last night because it was due today and I couldn’t manage it…somehow one of the more poignant expressions of love in the past 24 hours.

And there have been so many expressions of love, all perfect, all welcome, even when people call or email or text to say that they don’t know what to say.

I’ve seen women grieve, cry, rest, gather themselves up, and try again, and that’ll be me.

My poppy seed will be remembered for teaching me all of the above.

pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC

the cruel truth

I did the blood test this morning. At lunch, I started spotting. Got the call this afternoon with the result: negative. Very negative.

No, it doesn’t make sense. You saw: I had a positive pregnancy test. I had another positive one the next day to make sure. The nurse says that if I were ever pregnant, the result would have been higher. (“Did you use an expired test?”) No! I bought it that day and used the Cadillac of pregnancy tests. I seriously thought it was practically impossible to get a positive if you weren’t pregnant. And I got two in a row!

My brain wants to quibble with the medical mystery side of this story but it doesn’t change the result. For whatever reason, I am just not.

And now I’ve dragged you all along with me. It was a lot more fun to share the good news. Fun to believe it for 5 days. Fun to feel all the love and good wishes, to think about the poppy seed. Why did Clear Blue play this trick on me? I will never know… but it just seems so bizarre and unfair and…cruel.

This feels like a bad dream the way the positive felt like a good dream.

The spotting is most likely my period as this would be Day 31. Unless the blood test is wrong and then I’m just firing everybody.

pregnancy, privacy, single mom by choice, SMC


Dear friends! In my haste to post my news, I didn’t specify that I’m not actually going public for 8 more weeks, which may have been unclear given that this is a public blog! But, for now, let’s keep it off of facebook and any other public forum. I posted a baby-related post today and was trying to speak in code but I see how it looked like a green light. I’m out of town on a business trip and don’t always have access to delete posts. It’s really important to me that my work colleagues not find out until I’m ready to tell them. I’m typing this out on my phone because it feels that urgent! Thanks so much for your messages and more soon from me after I’m home from this super-packed meeting tomorrow night! All is well here. Blood test Wednesday, follow-up test Friday. xo

pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc


Last night, arriving home after work and then a nice dinner out with a friend, I sat down on the couch for my first undistracted moment in days. My nurse Olga at UCSF had emailed me at the end of the day, “Hi Katie,
I am about to leave the office but wanted to see if you checked a urine pregnancy test? Please let me know. Thanks! Olga”

In this whole trying to conceive process, I had not yet taken a pregnancy test, preferring to be informed instead by the arrival of AF. But as of last night, I was on the brink of the end of the two week wait, and still hemming and hawing about doing the actual test. Total resistance and paralysis. I talked to my friend C on the phone, spinning in circles about how my Walgreen’s burned down and therefore I just couldn’t figure out what to do next. She said, “OK, I’m just going to throw this out there and you can take it or leave it, but the practical side of me says: you’re going to go to bed, wake up, get a pregnancy test, and then do the test. Then you’ll know and can go on with your weekend!” Wide-eyed, I said, “OK! Yes. That’s sounds like a good plan. I’ll do that.”

I texted Ms. R: “Q: is it supposed to be first morning pee for preg test? If so, should I get it tonight?” She texted back, “I really think it doesn’t matter at all–you either are or you aren’t.” Right. I went to bed.

Woke up, put on my gym clothes, drove to Safeway for bandages for my poor knees, butter for a cookie mix for the SMC meeting (that didn’t happen), hand soap, and… a pregnancy test. The Safeway lady who opened the locked Family Planning glass case for me tittered as I reached for the Clear Blue Pregnancy.

I drove to the Y, arrived late, ran upstairs to tell my trainer R, “Give me five minutes!” ran back down to the locker room bathroom stall, peed on the stick, and, wouldn’t you know, it said “PREGNANT”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Blink! Blink!

You guys! I’m pregnant! OMG!

I ran upstairs with the stick, barely hiding it under my arm, interrupted R’s conversation saying, “Can we speak privately?” We went to an office and I held up my shaking hand to show him the stick that said, simply, unequivocally, “Pregnant.” We hugged and jumped up and down and I cried and hyperventilated and realized I had left my phone at home (of all days!) and he took a photo of the positive test (so I could make sure I didn’t dream it later):


I used his phone to call my parents who were out to lunch with friends, and upon hearing the news my dad characteristically burst into tears and handed the phone to my mom. My mom basically did the same and I don’t even know what else I said but ended the call saying I’d better head back in to my training session. They shared a nice moment with their friends and everyone was teary and excited (some who don’t even know me, including neighboring tables)…so sweet!!!

I worked out while feeling like I was having an out of body experience on the moon and then rushed home to tell my sisters, who are together on the east coast. I said, “I got a positive test!” and they were excited and minutes later one of them pointed out I had not stated the words, “I am pregnant” but I’ve since worked up to that and after some phone calls it’s old hat. (ha ha, totally kidding, I can’t even believe these words are coming out of me and it might be a dream!!)

Then, of all times, there was a monthly meeting of SMCs, including some of the best friends I’ve made in this process (JJ, B, Ms. R., we missed you Cr!). Ms. R ran outside to greet me so I got to tell her first, which is fitting since she has been with me from day 1 and a HUGE support and we are pulling for her to stay on my schedule! I went in and got many hugs and happy gazes and felt sensitive about those who have tried so hard for so long and yet it mostly always seems like it’s happy news when a fellow SMC gets a BFP (big fat positive) because it means that it’s possible and real and can happen to any and all of us.

There were two little ones present, a 2-year-old and a 4-month-old present, both adorable, and I have to say I looked at them quite differently all of a sudden, as if I’d never seen little people before. One of the moms teared up with happiness for me, someone I barely know. It’s just too wonderful all these reactions!

This afternoon, I’ve been on the phone and have heard of tears and goosebumps and happy friends and family…I am SO GRATEFUL I CAN’T EVEN STAND IT! Please forgive me for the public blast–I wanted to tell everyone individually but I couldn’t wait another minute, and I know I’ll talk to everyone over time, I NEED you all over time. You all have been so supportive and views are spiking today so I know you’re impatient to find out this happy news! So there it is! Holy shit!!!

A few caveats for the record: it’s early. Let’s be really excited but keep it mellow. I appreciate all your good thoughts for the little poppy seed, who, if all goes well, will arrive in February 2013.

Love and gratitude and more love and happiness and shocked elation from me to you and on behalf of me and the little poppy seed. More soon xo

breakup, dating, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait


I’m so appreciative that when I don’t write for a few days, I get nudges. “Hi! Time for blogging!” or “HOW ARE YOU?” or even “Well?????” Thanks for these implicit compliments (are you guys addicted yet?!) and for your support. It’s never a publicity stunt, just me trying to keep all the ducks in a row over here.

Today I went for a lunchtime run with lovely A along the Embarcadero. Every Thursday, we meet up in a total funk, change at the gym, burst outside into what always seems to be a gorgeous sunny day, and congratulate ourselves throughout the run for having the foresight and brilliance to schedule this recurring meeting in Outlook. We feel like a million bucks afterward. You wonder why people run? That’s why. Instantly, everything (and I do mean everything) is better.

Well, today we ran down past the ballpark, a grittier, emptier side of town, all the way to The Ramp, as far as I know the only non-touristy bayside outdoor restaurant in the city. We turned around to run back, and a little way up the road, I was talking, mistook a tree-root sized bump in the asphalt for a shadow, and totally bit it. The ground and I became one. I fell so fast that I didn’t have time to get my hands out and simply crashed and slid, for what seemed like a really long time.

When you finally stop and come to your senses, there’s always that scary moment of taking inventory. Let’s see… Two bloody knees, skinned elbows and left shoulder, cut and bruised left hand. Check, check. No broken bones. Phew! But now the blood is dripping, so… back to The Ramp to get cleaned up.

The really astonishing thing is that just about exactly a year ago, I took my first major tumble while trail running in the Oakland Hills, and I injured those exact parts of my body in the same places! I reenacted the same fall, only this time on asphalt (I don’t recommend this).

Last year’s fall was indicative of my new case of insomnia and brewing anxiety about my then-relationship that I didn’t yet understand. Today’s fall I blame entirely on the two week wait.

It just knocks me off balance, much as I try to keep everything rolling, happy, and healthy. I mentally added up all my waits to total 6 weeks out of the last 3 months, and even executing the math problem was powered by resentment. Quite apart from “I’ve only been trying for three months,” this process just takes a heavy emotional toll. Today is Day 25, the beginning of the end, and to answer your question, I’ve been doing OK (no crying) but I’m feeling a little sick of this mode, the repetitiveness of it, hard to shake that it could be just like this every time, that I’m leading you all on a wild goose chase. I’ve been feeling like AF is coming, and also like I’m a million miles from pregnant.

But, at the end of the day, I’m pursuing my dream. So that does go a long way.

I’m also feeling extra grateful to be on my own and not shackled to some lame dude. I went out again with unexciting guy. Guess what? He was unexciting. Some dear readers weighed in that they liked the sounds of him but I think there were two forces at play encouraging a misinterpretation: for one thing I oversold him as “cuter and taller than I remembered,” but notice I didn’t say “cute” or “tall.” Secondly, he was presented as a counterpoint to RV guy, whom I obviously should not have been pursuing, so it was easy for readers to root for his polar opposite.

I’ll tell you why I wont be seeing unexciting guy again: after two dates, he wouldn’t pass even the most basic pop quiz about me. Where am I from? Who’s in my family? Where’d I go to school? Where have I traveled? What’s my job? Do I play music? What are my hopes and dreams while on this blue marble? These, my friends, are questions that were not asked, because essentially no questions were asked. I compulsively filled the space that would otherwise have been silence (yes, I let a couple of silences go to see what would happen, and the answer is that it only brought more silence). Pair this with the texts I received afterwards: “Had another wonderful evening with you. Can’t wait to see you again!” Huh?!?! Who is this woman he’s interested in? Because he doesn’t know shit about me!

And so, we find ourselves back with a clean slate, bloodied and bruised, hopeful that all this holding out for a healthy, reciprocal, exciting, durable love will facilitate its arrival, in whatever form the universe decides to send it.

Meanwhile, I’m doing all my own stunts.