Category: trying to conceive

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

8 million

thesolomamaproject

On Friday afternoon, in the midst of a hive breakout barely held at bay by Benadryl, I got a positive OPK after being super-religious about not peeing for 4 hours! I even had the coveted EWCM that day AND the next day, something I was never able to detect previously. Although the positive kit did take me somewhat by surprise a few days early, I was thrilled to prove the genuine falsehood of the earlier false positive and put the wheels in motion for IUI #3.

I called in my positive result to Nurse Olga, who congratulated me 🙂 and scheduled my IUI for 12:30 on Saturday. She also said that her hunch about the hives was that I was having an allergic reaction to the dye of the HSG test. After our call, I got an email containing my instructions:

Hi Katie,
Your IUI is tomorrow at 12:30pm with Dr. Rinaudo. Please call the thaw hotline tomorrow morning. Have a great weekend Katie!

§ SPERM THAW: The MORNING OF YOUR INSEMINATION please call the thaw hotline BEFORE 8:30am at 353-3039. The sperm will not be thawed unless you call. Please leave:
1) Full Name
2) DOB
3) Donor Name and Number
4) IUI Appointment Time

That’s right: if you do not call the “thaw hotline” the morning-of, your sperm will NOT be thawed for your IUI–way to hold the patients accountable! This actually struck me as kind of absurd, but I’m sure the policy was developed after expensive (?) thawing and no-show ladies. I did get stuck on the “Donor Name”–what’s his name again? Oh right, I never knew it. I suppose they’re referring to known donors in that case, but mine is anonymous. I’ve been calling him McPiercy but I do know his number by heart.

On Saturday morning, the hives were back in full force! I took 2 Benadryl and called the thaw hotline at around 7am. Then I spent part of the morning assembling all my baby project paperwork, creating a spreadsheet of all my cycle charting data, and adding up my expenses thus far. For the record, my average cycle lasts around 26 days, my average LH surge is on Day 13/14, my average (estimated) ovulation day is Day 14/15, my temp spike happens on Day 16, and my luteal phase is about 12/13 days. Crunching the numbers helps me feel a teensy bit in control.

I also tallied the amount I’ve spent at PRS: $3,860 for: 1 intro consultation, 4 vials, 2 IUIs, 2 ultrasounds, plus accoutrements (and a partridge in a pear tree). I could send these expenses in to be reimbursed now through my insurance but I’m holding off since I just transferred over to UCSF where all I’ve paid thus far for an RE consult, ultrasound, psychiatric evaluation, sperm transfer, and HSG test is one little $40 copay–they seamlessly bill my insurance directly. So I’m loathe to file a bunch of individual claims for PRS until I get pregnant; then I’ll cash in my chips.

While this is an expensive process, I know all too well that what I’m really paying for is the right to be a full-on solo parent with no one swooping in at the 11th hour to cause complications. I’m really paying for the right to have no man legally connected to this child (until I’m ready to connect one).

At 12:30, I entered the quiet Saturday halls of UCSF for the IUI, which was pretty much exactly the same drill as at PRS. It wasn’t Dr. Rinaudo after all, but a woman named Dr. P–nice to keep the continuity of possibly getting knocked up by a woman as long as it couldn’t be Ingrid. Dr. P. was very sympathetic about the hives and said it sounds very likely an allergy to the dye, considering that if they were stress hives they would have come and gone long ago. She also said I should stop taking Benadryl now since it could possibly interfere with implantation. Darn.

At the moment of truth, when Ingrid would have said, “I’m sending you blessings and love,” Dr. P. said, “OK, the specimen is going in.” 8 million of McPiercy’s swimmers with “excellent motility” were deployed in my uterus. I just smiled, and Mojo winked at me from where his head was poking out of my purse.

On the way home, I picked up the healthiest lunch I could think of: kale salad, rice and beans, and a carrot/ginger/lime juice from Herbivore. Then I took a long nap on the couch. I took a nap on my couch today too (and hopefully tomorrow!). The weekend has been so restful and I am grateful for one more day, which will include a SMC brunch and a date with a real-life guy (i.e. not from the internet) who asked me out for dinner.

Tonight, I accomplished one item on the weekend to-do list which was to begin looking at new places to live. I really do like my apartment (of 6 years!) and it’s fine for me right now…it’s a studio, probably 600 square feet, with south-facing bay windows, pretty views, old-school charm (read: nothing has ever been updated. I have an icebox), nice hardwood floors, great neighborhood, centrally located in the Lower Haight. But when I consider bringing a tiny roommate in here, I worry that it’s also a fourth-floor walkup with shared coin-op laundry. To me, the laundry is the dealbreaker, even if I was able to convert the walk-in closet to a baby room.

After searching around on Craig’s List for an hour or so, I started feeling my hives get itchier (I still have a few!)… The rental market is at its peak. The real estate market is ridiculous. The share situations are sketchy. Anything vaguely affordable is in a bad area. I went in circles until I remembered that I don’t have to do anything yet.

All I have to do now is get pregnant. I have faith that the rest will work itself out, whether that’s leaving the Bay Area to become a park ranger or joining a single mom co-op or getting someone to buy me a condo with no strings attached or falling into some other unlikely-but-perfect scenario I couldn’t have dreamed up ahead of time. I just try to remember how many women have done it with less.

acupuncture, anxiety, fertility, IUI, ovulation, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, Uncategorized

hives

thesolomamaproject

What a crazy few days. The HSG test kicked it off. I could give you the play by play, but I don’t really want to put you through it, and I don’t want to scare the daylights out of anyone who still has to get that test in the future. But OMG!  It hurt so bad!! I don’t know why it was so painful for me, but let’s say that my innards were most displeased with the experience.

The next day, I worked from home and screwed up my Day 10 ovulation test. I had planned to test at 2pm after not-peeing since 10 (the test requires that you not pee for 4 hours beforehand, inhumane as it may be for a well-hydrated and active young woman). But I forgot and peed at noon. Realized it, and recalculated for a 4pm test, made it to 3pm and couldn’t hold it any longer. Did the test. Left on the sink and totally forgot about it until I returned 2 hours later to discover the screen blank. I pulled out the stick, clicked it back in and poof: a smiley face. WTF!

I tested again on the spot, negative. Tested again 4 hours later: negative. Tested first thing this morning: negative. Then I broke out in hives.

At first, I thought a mosquito must have gotten into my bed during the night because I itched all over. Then I got a look at myself in the sunlight: raised, welt-like bumps on my knees, elbows, thighs, my belly-button, neck, and a sprinkle everywhere else as well. Once I identified it as hives, I felt OK. I got some Benadryl, which took care of it quickly. But whenever the Benadryl wears off, they come back. Watching them come and go is kind of mesmerizing, like watching the sun set. You take your eye off of it and next time it’s in a different formation.

I managed to hold it from 9am until 1pm today (including a noon run with a pooched-out bladder) and tested: negative. Got a call back from the UCSF nurse responding to my email: we’re going to consider that a negative. You can’t leave the test for that long and trust the result. OK. Phew. Ovulation is still to come. (probably in about 4 days)

I had another well-timed acupuncture appointment at 5pm. This is the kind of medical mystery where I much prefer my acupuncturist over any other type of doctor. He said there is no question that my body is reacting to the trauma of the HSG test by cranking up its immune response. Those muscles and tissues are very sensitive and it just isn’t normal to have your plumbing tinkered with in that way. My body clearly was on the hating-it end of the continuum and needed and deserved some de-stressing. Time to relax and take it easy.

I facetiously posted on FB today, “I’ve been using ‘That makes me break out in hives” figuratively too often and now I’m actually breaking out in hives.” I’m reminded of a story my sister told me about a woman who said for weeks, “I need a break, I need a break” and ended up breaking her ankle. The words we choose can influence our reality.

So here are some carefully-chosen words:

As I sit here on my big yellow couch under a grandma-knit blanket with my fizzy water listening to an intermittent foghorn out on the bay, I think to myself: “This makes me break out in love, wellness, peace, contentment, gratitude, and a healing little hug for my lady parts.”

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

renewal

thesolomamaproject

There’s something about fresh air and natural beauty and sleeping on the ground that makes me feel more like me, so I knew it would help pull me out of whatever hole I sunk into last week. It feels so good to be out there that I inevitably start fantasizing about becoming a park ranger. I must say that every park ranger we met was strikingly handsome in the hat and the sunglasses and the whole nine yards. Especially the Colombian at the gate to Hetch Hetchy: Santiago Palacio. He alone would be a good enough reason to ditch the corporate gig.

All the navigating and tinkering with gear and walking walking walking and breathing mountain air and sleeping next to a gurgling river and hugging giant centuries-old Sequoias…it gets you back to Earth. The general frustrations of the hour fade into the background, and the activities force you to be in the moment. I didn’t think about the baby project much at all, other than imagining that my kid will have a well-stamped national park passport and be able to climb like a mountain goat. It was nice to be away from the blogs and the discussion boards and the emails, texts, phone calls–it was a welcome break, actually. I hadn’t processed that perhaps I needed a little break from the SMC thing, too.

God forbid that places like Yosemite every get wifi or even cell service–I was offline for 3 days and didn’t miss it. We usually didn’t even know what time it was.

I guess that was my fourth time to Yosemite and each time is spiritual and moving, especially my glimpses of Half Dome, which I climbed 4 years ago despite great and overwhelming fear. I fell in love with the guy who climbed up behind me–it was that kind of experience, totally exhilarating and mind-bending and emotional and shared among all the friends on that trip. Half Dome is one of my favorite symbols. I look up there and viscerally feel that 17-mile round-trip day of climbing a vertical mile with that terrifying last half hour on the rock… It’s a monument to my courage! And yours! Among many other things, like being one of the most distinctive and awe-inspiring and beautiful hunks of rock anywhere:

.Image

I also love that my tent is called a “Quarter Dome,” and that all North Face gear has the logo like what you see above… That symbol is everywhere.

A few insights from today: this morning, my therapist pointed out that it’s been exactly a year since I kicked off a super-terrible four months that resulted the end of a relationship. Sometimes the weather shifts and you’re back in that place you were one year before…it sounds right, as a trigger. However, I still reserve the right to downward spiral for NO reason. But it’s nice to have a reason and feel like it’s right.

And: I had my HSG test today, where they insert a catheter and inject dye into your uterus to make sure it flows through the Fallopian tubes and into your abdominal cavity, i.e. no blockages. Well, everyone said it wouldn’t be that bad, and I usually have a high pain tolerance, but it was bad. I will spare you the details. Fortunately, it was brief. But, again, as with anytime it gets really uncomfortable/painful in this process, I thought, “I must really want this.” And, “I hope I’m not so wimpy in childbirth!” Fortunately, the dye flowed, so no issues.

Another step up the giant rock.

acupuncture, depression, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

yosemite

thesolomamaproject

On Thursday, I described to my acupuncturist my emotional swings from earlier in the week and how I woke up sweaty and with an aching back that morning. He felt my pulse and said, “Yep. That feels like a nightsweaty pulse.” I said, “What is a ‘nightsweaty pulse’?” and he said, “Oh, I can just tell that your body is under stress.”

I kind of blinked thinking, “Huh. I thought I had finished working through this one,” and then “God what’s the big deal all I did was try twice,” in that moment gave myself permission to be done or not done working through it but to stop judging and just be. And then I felt nothing, for longer than usual after he put in the needles and left the room. And then I got hit like a ton of bricks with the release of stuck emotions which eventually took me to that relaxation place right before sleep. Walking home, I felt so heavy, my limbs like sandbags even though I’d gone for an invigorating run just hours before along the Embarcadero with my dear friend, A.

Today, I worked from home which was productive and uneventful, but running errands tonight I thought: I still haven’t broken through. I am simmering on why, why, why. How is it again that I’m not just another ordinary lady who is married with kids at 38? It is such an old and unhelpful tune that I can’t get out of my head (news flash: life doesn’t always turn out the way we expected), and I thought I had moved past it for good but… getting your sad buttons pushed runs through all previous sadnesses and I suppose that’s just how we humans work.

Just when you’re thinking “jeez, this is a bummer post,” I have some good news. I have magically and coincidentally arranged to go camping for the weekend with my friend MM and we’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning. We’ve been loosely planning this for roughly 3 years but only just nailed it down last weekend. For me, there is no greater therapy than fresh air, trails, getting dirty, and sleeping on the ground. And: have you seen Yosemite? It is such an unlikely landscape with those distinctive rocky peaks which are by now like old, familiar friends. You look up from the valley into a natural cathedral built by forces of nature beyond our full understanding…and your mind is forced to ease up on whatever it’s clenched on because there’s no room for anything besides utterly breathtaking beauty.

I need it. Deep in my bones, I’m craving the wilderness. I will come back renewed, ready to pee on a stick.

anxiety, breakup, dating, depression, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

progress

thesolomamaproject

I’m at Four Barrel, unexpectedly. I got my acupuncture appointment time wrong which left me with an extra hour before dinner and meditation… so I jetted over here to get an extra hour of work done only to find: no wireless! This big fancy café full of people in 2012 does not offer wireless. Imagine that.

So, it looks like I’ll be forced not to work. And while I can’t blog real-time, I can blog with a time-delay, which means I’ll probably go to bed earlier tonight than I would otherwise, and it’ll all be the same to you.

I haven’t been in this café since I met up with my friend I here in September. We hadn’t caught up in a while, and she knew I was going through a rough time. She leaned in and said, “OK, Honey. What’s going on?” I remember looking around the café at all the hipsters and couples and one very memorably beautiful baby. The afternoon sun was streaming in, just like it is now. I started at the beginning and unraveled the whole story. I was in crisis. My relationship had become unworkable. She listened and listened with a look on her face that told me there wasn’t much more to figure out. “Honey, it sounds like it just needs to end.” I believe we made some plans for me to become a mom on my own. But it was Friday night and I was on my way to his place for the weekend and my heart was breaking at the thought of all that was ahead of me.

It’s kind of cool to be back here, way over on the other side of all that.

I had a hard day yesterday. Just when I thought I had regained my balance after the end of Cycle 2, I was knocked off my center again. Blame the hormones, but there’s something about the sadness of not getting pregnant that sends me directly over to the sadness of not being in a relationship—it’s kind of a one-two punch. So it was coincidental that I ran into my post-breakup rebound at happy hour yesterday afternoon (my therapist and I refer to him as a “relapse”—he is an adorable mess and a disaster for me). And then it wasn’t so coincidental later on when I decided to check my most recent ex’s facebook page, landing on photos of his new girlfriend’s birthday celebration and his (their?) upcoming trip to Spain.

I can tell you with 110% certainty that I don’t want to be with either one of them. And I can tell you with 120% certainty that checking ex-boyfriends’ facebook pages should be against the law. (Why, for example, does facebook ask me, “Do you want to be friends with David?” Facebook: Why act all innocent when you obviously “know” we were “In a relationship,” the official way, for a year (check my timeline). It should say something like, “Are you ready to be post-breakup friends or are you just checking to make sure you’re better/prettier/smarter/thinner than his new girlfriend? I thought so.”)

Still. I did, once upon a time, want to be with him forever. He has a great sense of humor and he can be extremely generous and thoughtful and we had some seriously great times together. But I could not get a SPARK out of him—I never witnessed fiery passion or anger or despair or uncontrollable laughter. I am a LEO. I need romance and adoration and promises. I need unsolicited and unabashed expressions of love. I need to be with someone who smiles for photos. He wouldn’t smile for photos!

We hatched this plan to travel the world together for six months, the romance of which, for me, was that we’d throw our lives together, have this huge life-changing adventure, then come back and get married and pregnant. But then I stopped sleeping and developed massive anxiety around the planning. When I checked in with him on the after-the-trip plan, he was “not even thinking about those things.” Here I was on the verge of giving up my job, apartment, community, and lots/all of my savings. I’m thanking my higher power that I changed direction before SERIOUSLY f-ing up my ENTIRE life.

But sometimes it’s just easier to focus on the negative and really go with it, especially when you’re drunk on one beer after weeks of sobriety. So, I spent the evening on email and on the phone recounting the events of my day in excruciating detail to no fewer than five friends (THANK YOU) until I went to sleep and woke up feeling pretty much normal again. I do bounce back.

And here I am, randomly back at Four Barrel, my reminder from the universe that I did the hard work and emerged stronger, feeling so much freer and happier and more me than on my last visit to this wireless-free center of excellent coffee. So, hooray for that. I’d say that’s progress.

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

Day 1

thesolomamaproject

Yep, she showed up. I went to bed early last night and really felt her looming. This morning she was here. As we say in the lingo, “I’m out.”

I really processed this on Friday so I’m doing fine. The negative spiral pulls me down a “OMG I can’t get my life to move forward” path, but I know many truer things like: 1. this takes time, 2. with time, I am better mentally prepared, 3. I’m building a community, 4. this child will come into being when he/she is ready.

A few kind sentiments from friends and family the past few days that helped:

  • If it doesn’t happen this month, think of it as more time to rest and plan.
  • Breathe, relax, flow with life. This path is non-linear and mysterious and unfolds in its own time.
  • A child comes to life when its mother first has the idea to conceive it. The moment the idea is born, the child is born.

A few treats I lined up for myself in the event of this: a cut/color (long overdue), a cocktail (conveniently there’s a farewell happy hour this afternoon for a colleague), and call in the housecleaner! Although, I must say that I did some nice cleaning over the weekend and my place feels cozy.

Also, I’ve made some decisions about travel over the next few months which I’ve been struggling to do waiting for my body to do something. Yosemite this weekend w/ MM finally! 2 weeks in MI in July! And: I’ve been so on the fence about going to Rio for a friend’s wedding at the end of August, not knowing how to plan around all of the above. (My travel companion will be my boss, of all people, as this is a work friend’s wedding.) But, as my friend J pointed out yesterday, “It’s never going to get any easier.” That was the tipping point. I may choose to skip a month, or I may feel fine, or I may choose to spontaneously share my news earlier than intended to explain why I’m so sick, but we can’t plan ANY of that now. So, I’m going. I feel better having these things resolved so my “planning mind” can plow ahead.

Too bad you don’t get instant replay of conception. I was telling my Dad the other day that I bet in the future, you’ll get a video afterward–ovulation, fertilization, flowing down the tubes, implantation. Or, if you don’t end up conceiving, the video shows the egg hanging out for a while, checking her watch, and then giving up, and the sperm frenetically showing up too late. No videos these days, though. All we get is a hit or miss.

And so, we embark on the UCSF chapter.

Mother's Day, parenthood, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

Happy Mama’s Day!

thesolomamaproject

Happy Mother’s Day to all you Moms! You make the world go around, you know that, right? The celebrations probably never go quite as smoothly as if you’d planned them yourself, but I hope you get a glimmer of how appreciated you are today even if the rest of us stumble a bit trying to express our gratitude for how generous you are with your time, energy, and love.

A friend of mine posted on FB: “I can’t believe that my teenage daughter had the nerve to say there should be a ‘Daughter’s Day.’ And she was serious!”

My own Mom inspires me to want to be a Mom. When she gave birth the first time, she was 30 years old and had been married to my Dad for a few years. I hope she’s OK with me telling you that for the first half of her pregnancy, she didn’t realize she was pregnant. She was already having irregular cycles, then thought she was putting weight on in the middle. That was me! She finally went to the doctor, and the famous line is, “Congratulations, Mrs. C., you’re four and a half months pregnant!” So, let’s just say it was an easy pregnancy. (noted!)

My Mom talks about becoming a Mom as an event that changed her life in an instant, bringing this new all-consuming love and absolute thrill and awe to meet this new little person. (PS my Dad says the same thing but we’ll give him his turn on Father’s Day :)) She describes the process of going into labor with this tone of woman’s-wisdom; she finished up lesson plans as my dad ran up and down the stairs saying, “we should go we should go weshouldgo!” Even though it was her first birth, she had a sense of calm. In the hospital, she had a bunch of student observers–she shook their hands wearing nothing but socks, and the doctor had a tee time or something so he ended up pulling me out with forceps (a sign of the times). Healthy first-born baby girl!

My Mom recalls sitting in the light yellow La-Z-Boy chair in the living room of our little house in the middle of the night, breastfeeding each of her babies, with the streetlight flowing in the window and just feeling so content with life.

Through my childhood, my Mom was the superhero the job requires–a working mother who pursued a career she loved but also arranged for a flexible schedule so that we always had a parent at home when we got home from school. We had various college student babysitters to fill in the gaps but my parents were a.r.o.u.n.d. Which tends to nip any brewing mischief in the bud. The huge bulk of the household chores–cooking, cleaning, laundry–fell to my Mom and we were generally very unhelpful and ungrateful–she took the lion’s share because she wanted us to have time to do our homework. When Mom went to a conference about once a year, all hell broke loose (no offense, Dad) and we really could not function without the sun in the center of our solar system.

I remember being a teenager and writing an angsty poem about my Mom in which I invented fictional clashes since that seemed like the thing to do. The fact is, I really always liked her. As anyone knows who has met my Mom, she is one of the most generous and caring people on the planet. She got to channel this nurturing energy into her career as a teacher working primarily with kids who were struggling with various problems like ADD, learning disabilities, problems at home, or not speaking English. She customized ways to connect with each of them. She more than meets people halfway and I got this from her. We both need to reign it in sometimes and direct more of that nurturing energy to ourselves (says the next generation version 2.0 after years of therapy!)…but, that’s how it goes: your weaknesses are your strengths turned up a little too high. And it’s a beautiful strength!!

Today, my Mom is one of my best friends. The major differences from a regular friendship are that a) she gave birth to me, b) she’s known me since then, and c) I wait about half a day longer to tell her something that might worry her. Otherwise, the open communication that she (and my Dad) fostered throughout our childhoods, which I credit with keeping us generally on a positive and productive track, continues to this day.

Now that my parents have iPhones, every call goes onto speakerphone within about 10 seconds so that I’m talking to them both. Lately, they say in singsong, “We’re enjoying your blog!!!!” They have supported me through every step of this process. From the day my Mom noticed prenatal vitamins in my apartment, her only struggle has been to contain her boundless joy. I know she is beside herself knowing that I am on the verge of experiencing the magic that changed her life–and then we’ll share it. And my kid will have a Mimi!

I love you, Mom!!

PS Sharing a photo of my Mom–just came in via text from my Dad as I finished this post. She’s got the purse my sisters and I sent for Mother’s Day. I know I’m on the edge of being not-so-anonymous but so be it! Lookin good!!!Image

PPS Day 28: No AF. Temp at 97.4. Hasta mañana!

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

probably not

thesolomamaproject

My temp plummeted this morning, which is what it does right before I get my period. The doctor told me to stop taking my temp, likely to avoid this type of freakout, but I sort of couldn’t. It seemed like the info could be useful later, and plus after so many months I am deeply rooted in this habit of waking up and rolling over to reach for the thermometer. So, there it was, down from 97.6 to 96.3. Exactly like it plummeted the morning of the day AF arrived last month. Likely a no-go. OOOOOK.

I started the day filled with dread. I feel unshowered (ok, I AM unshowered). I look a mess. I don’t think I’m exaggerating. I caught a glimpse of myself in the work bathroom mirror earlier and I kind of shuddered.  I know that a run would do me good but forgot to do laundry last night and have zero clean workout clothes. I slogged into the office knowing the importance of getting a LOT of work done today, and I did OK. But with moments of tearing up and zinging little SOSs to friends who all totally get it, especially the SMCs. Ms. R. even canceled her vague evening plans so she could come with me to see a silly movie tonight. As Beans says, we are PUPO = Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise, praying to the Buddha for our little panda bears. But it’s just not looking good. Or feeling good. O the unfairness that when you discover you’re not pregnant you’re already in PMS mode!

And, yes, it’s Mothers Day weekend.

I know I know I know this will happen for me (thanks La Colombiana) but it really doesn’t feel like it at this moment. So, I’ll cry it out and get on with hikes and sunshine and celebrating my own mom who is probably the best person I know. Thanks for being out there. If my thermometer is playing tricks on me, I will kiss it and delete this post. I hope everyone has a great weekend. On to CD1 or a bewildering turn of events!

PS Dear Wonderful and Much-Maligned AF: if you’re on your way, will you hurry the F up? I could use a cocktail.

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

Day 25

thesolomamaproject

Remember how I said we’d be like, “oh, has it been a month already?” Well, that was almost a month ago!

I kind of blinked at my chart this morning when I realized it’s already Day 25. My temp did a really nice rise, and rise, and rise after the day of the IUI and has leveled out in my upper ranges. The first week was so easy and blissful, truly. I was so on to those fakey-fake symptoms that they didn’t even appear. Such a great illustration of how much of our physical reality is only in our minds.

Week 2 commenced on Tuesday and the symptoms have come on like gangbusters. There’s something about knowing that, if the thing is in there, it may have implanted on the uterine wall, and that this precarious little teensy thing barely the width of your fingernail might be holding on for dear life and cell-dividing like a mofo…that makes you love it, just a little bit. And as soon as you love it, you’re toast.

I decided this time that rather than list off the symptoms when people look at me meaningfully and say, “how are you feeling?”, instead I would just keep a list in my wallet. This way, I am acknowledging the symptoms are happening (sort-of/maybe) but then I’m putting them away. I’m not getting anyone’s hopes up by listing lots of TMI pregnancy indicators. And if and when I get pregs, I will know which symptoms were real. And then I will win.

As the administrator of this blog, I can see how many hits I get per day, in fact there is a bar graph right below this box I’m writing in. I kid you not: the bar graph totally matches my cycle. My audience checks in around ovulation and during the suspenseful final days. It was totally predictable and yet makes me laugh. I’m going to add “blog views” to my charts where I track my temp and other gory things I won’t list here. Someday, when I have a surplus of free time (i.e. never), I will post a graph that shows the cause and effect relationship of my menstrual cycle and my blog’s popularity, like those graphs in econ books with the hemlines of skirts and the GNP.

A quick note about blog comments: everyone responds in their own way or not at all. After a blog post, I get an email, a text, a phone call, and a post on my facebook wall offering me a virtual trophy. Some friends have apologized for not commenting, or not being able to figure out how to comment. It is ALL good. I know you’re out there, one way or another. Thanks so much for reading my blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have some meaty topics I’m saving up for Mothers Day weekend which, for obvious reasons, is already getting me choked up this year. I’m more appreciative than ever of my own Mom (who got a very fancy gift from her three daughters today!!!) and all my mom friends who are just unbelievable, inspiring women. My friend S is posting hilarious mom quotes all week on facebook, and my favorite was from The Golden Girls: “It’s not easy being a mother. If it were easy, fathers would do it.”

As a final note for tonight because I have to go eat my late dinner of salmon and asparagus and my new staple drink of lemon or lime and soda water, I have to acknowledge our dear Obama for his newly unequivocal support of marriage equality!! YES! I gave money today to his campaign with more hope than I’ve felt since I worked on his campaign the first time around. (Imagine if someone had told you 5 years ago that we’d have a black President supporting gay marriage, you’d be like uhhh wha?) It’s all about the love. I am solidly in the pro-love camp. I will never flip-flop on that.

OK, gird up your loins, people! We are in the final countdown. Good night

meditation, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

the gray area

thesolomamaproject

If I knew slightly more about Buddhism, I might call myself a Buddhist. As it currently stands, however, I’m pretty much a meditator who hangs on every word of a dharma talk, feeling like the teacher is reading my mind and saying exactly what I needed to hear. I find it so consoling and reassuring that I think of Tuesday night Mission Dharma with Howie as my church in the sense of being the spiritual place where I go regularly, other than the woods. (Also, it literally does take place in a church. 🙂 )

There’s a teaching that talks about how people who are perfectionists sometimes go to the extreme even with their meditation, thinking “I’ll be the best meditator of all, and eventually people will revere me and I’ll become a teacher and then I’ll be the best teacher in the nation, and then I’ll become the best teacher in the world, and then I’ll be invited to speak at international Buddhist conferences.” And the dharma teacher’s response is, “There is nothing more sorrowful than international Buddhist conferences. Just be the earthworm who knows two words: ‘Let go.'”

I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of letting go, since the infamous two-week-wait is a perfect example of a situation where I want something very, very much (big-time attachment), and yet I have essentially zero control over the outcome. Could you think of a more perfect opportunity to practice letting go? I really can’t. In this moment, I am not pregnant but I am also not not pregnant. I am squarely in a gray area and practicing not veering off into one outcome or the other but just being with both even though they’re mutually exclusive… It’s not a problem. It’s an opportunity! (See–my super-spiritual Beez has taught me a few things!)

I’ve recently been reminded of how much more dire the potential outcomes can be. A dear friend with a long history of health issues causing nailbiter waiting periods went in to the hospital today to have a biopsy for possible breast cancer. In her case, she’s spent the last several weeks living with the possibility of grave outcomes. She is the quintessential zen master–I am so inspired by her superhuman ability to remain basically OK and positive and, as she put it to me last night, “just living in the gray area.”

I’m beyond thrilled to report that when she called me at 9:30 this morning, she was laughing. The biopsy was basically cancelled because after reviewing all her latest data, they said there was nothing to warrant a biopsy at all. She can go back for a checkup in 6 months. We laughed and laughed on the phone because this is so much like other scares she’s had and yet things always seem to turn out OK. I also sensed that she didn’t swing all the way over into an ecstatic flood of relief state either–she was relieved, certainly, but she was still centered. She knows that life goes on with its ups and downs and who knows what. But we really cracked up because it’s just so wonderful.

I once read about a Buddhist teacher who was asked, “How do you handle fear?” And he said, “I agree. I agree.”

With this incredible example of equanimity in my hip pocket, I feel calm. It simply would not be tragic to not get pregnant on the second month of trying. (In fact, it would be darned normal.) However, I have license to feel how I feel, and boy will you hear about it. I started reading a book my mom sent me and I love it so far: “Mindfulness: An Eight-Week Plan for Finding Peace in a Frantic World” by Mark Williams. I meditate 10 minutes a day, and I practice gratitude as many other minutes of the day as I can remember to do so.

Today, I’m just so grateful that my friend is OK.