Category: trying to conceive

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

no

thesolomamaproject

I walked outside my building last night to find the Artist leaning awkwardly against his car in an unflattering sweater and I thought…no. Who can explain these things? It was just a big fat no from the first moment. After he did the gallant car-door-opening on my behalf, I sat in the passenger seat having a small panic attack that this was just all wrong. I gave myself a fast pep talk as he walked around to the other side: “Just let him be who he is and keep track of how you’re feeling. Breathe.” Small relief. Good conversation up to Golden Gate Park but too many peppered references to our already locked-down future together: Please always give me the benefit of the doubt. Our dates should always have a theme. It will be so nice to have someone to do things with.

We parked in the gloomy fog and strolled in to the Academy of Science. Once inside, looking in the aquariums, I longed for the simple life of a fish. It felt like such a big farce. This was just not at all the guy of my imagination. He gave me the strong impression he had not dated in a million years, or maybe ever. Just a rejection story from Burning Man and a conspiracy theory about a former boss… a theme was emerging of being wronged, misunderstood, victimized, the perennial single guy. After seeing the roof and the penguins, I announced, “Let’s get a drink.”

Over at the Alembic, I ordered an Old Fashioned, which can be trusted to take the edge off anything. He asked me what I’m looking for in a relationship. I told him, honestly, that I want to have a family. And, I kid you not, with a quick disclaimer that “I know it’s early,” he told me he would be an awesome dad. He asked if I was open to adoption because he’d been reading up on problems caused by “older dads” (he’s 38). He has always wanted kids and has even considered adopting them on his own. I was thinking, “This is totally nuts.”

I mean–how crazy that here’s a guy just begging for the whole enchilada and I’m on pins and needles hoping he doesn’t touch me. I ordered a second drink.

In the car, I thought I’d let him kiss me good night since it would be one last potentially important piece of information. The information was not good. The information confirmed my decision to let him down easy the next day.

Amazingly, when I walked back into my building, I felt relieved, happy, free, loving my single life. Feeling like I have a backup plan. I’m trying to have a baby without trying to make it work with some guy. I was light as a feather having had the perspective, yet again, of trying and trying to make something wrong feel right which is a huge exhausting burden. I won’t do it.

He didn’t know me at all and yet was ready to talk about being an awesome dad to my kid. It really wasn’t about me. And I caught it early. Success.

I sent the following email today:

I’m so sorry but my heart is telling me we’re not a match. You have so many great qualities and talents, and I’ve truly enjoyed getting to know you over the past week. I’m unfortunately just missing that intangible spark.
I wish you the best of luck in your search and in all things.
Today, my assistant called this message “breakup gold” and asked me to forward it to her to keep on file (she’s 26).
He was quite gracious in his response, so it was a friendly ending. I’m glad for that.
And I’m super glad to be heading at this moment to happy hour, then dinner, then dancing with girlfriends.
I’ll see the Moroccan tomorrow for coffee in North Beach at 11. I feel like I’m just getting warmed up.
dating, donor sperm, IUI, pregnancy loss, privacy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

more guys

thesolomamaproject

I’m in a t-shirt and yoga pants, listening to Aimee Mann’s new album (kick A), baking lasagna and peach cobbler for my long overdue rendez-vous tomorrow night with Ju and her three munchkins. I hear the littlest one is a cuddler.

The big headline in neon lights is that AF is back in force! After so many weeks of spotting, I had no idea when to expect her, and didn’t really think it would be so soon. I also didn’t know if I’d recognize her, or if she’d make a weak appearance and give me reason to doubt the true kick-off of a new cycle. I should not have second-guessed her. She reappeared like clockwork and set up house. I asked her if she wanted to guest blog and she glared at me, rolled her eyes, and went back to folding laundry.

Still–her arrival, oddly enough, put me in the best mood. It’s the end of a sad era and the beginning of a hopeful one and I’m out of limbo and back on cycle and I decided to get back into official trying mode this month.

I transported my latest guys from PRS to UCSF on Monday morning–a much different transport than the first time around (My Guys) where it was sunny and I was singing along to the radio and thinking about babies. This time it was foggy, I was listening to an audiobook about finances, and never once thought about babies until afterward when I remembered that both vials on the first transport got me pregnant, which gave me a burst of hope. This transport was three vials. Did I ever tell you that the SMC ladies call them “Pop-sicles”? I sort of can’t believe I’m getting back on this roller coaster.

This morning, I attended a networking event in which one of the panelists seemed to be speaking directly to me about my blog and my recent fears around the security breach and what would happen if everyone knew and was talking about this. The panelist said something along the lines of: “Speak your truth, and then stand behind it. As long as you say it with confidence and good intentions, it will never come back to haunt you, even if people find out who weren’t supposed to know.” I believe in this. This blog is my truth and my lifeline and I can’t tell you how reinforcing it is how many readers tell me, “keep writing!” “keep writing!”

I’m glad you enjoyed reading about the paramedic (with the exception of my dad who said it was a little more than he needed to know, understandable). This one is anti-climactic but I went on a date with a new guy on Friday night. I’ve been trying to find a nickname for him but am coming up empty-handed, mostly because I don’t care and he won’t be sticking around. But it was kind of strange–as you know from my last post, I wasn’t that excited to meet him beforehand. I started telling my friend M about him with, “Well, there’s nothing wrong with him.” which she took as not a good sign. He showed up, was good-looking, tall, polite, smiling, bought me dinner, and we had the most enjoyable conversation. There was actually a moment where we both threw our heads back and laughed and I thought–this is nicer than I thought it would be. We have a lot in common. After dinner we went to another place for milkshakes. Then I hugged him good night and heard myself say, “It was nice meeting you!” which in retrospect is not a super encouraging thing to say, or maybe it was my tone, or maybe I was thinking, “It was nice to have met you!” I went home and never thought about him again. Apparently the same for him as there’s been no communication. No spark! And no nickname.

The Adorable Disaster of many months ago inexplicably re-friended me on facebook one day last week. I can’t imagine what he’s up to beyond a game of passive-aggression and I will not be enticed into that game. I’m pretty sure he passed me on his bike while I was running through the park last week–our eyes locked for a split second and he was gone. Ignore.

On the bright side, I have a date on Saturday and I’m cautiously excited about it. This is The Artist. I think I’m excited because I know next to nothing about him and probably have filled in all the blanks in my mind. But we did trade websites (his art and my music) and admired each other’s work. He seems like a legit real artist who does paintings, sketches, fire arts, book arts, and also teaches and takes graduate classes. His students like him on Rate My Professor.

I should not blog and bake at the same time because I just scorched the top of the cobbler. Ah well… good thing I had leftover peaches and batter, I’ll make another one. Good night!

acupuncture, anxiety, dating, pregnancy loss, privacy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, writing

karma

thesolomamaproject

Last Saturday, the day after my return from Brazil, I went on a 10-mile run through Golden Gate Park with my housekeys, a $20, and my driver’s license in my little shorts pocket. When I was within half a mile from my house, I was suddenly ravenous enough to eat my arm, so I opted instead to duck into Falletti Foods, an outrageously expensive grocery with a buffet of hot food. In my delirious hunger, I grabbed a crazy mix of foods and the cashier totaled it at $14 and change. I handed him my slightly moist $20. He gave me back a $10, a $5, and some change. I blinked and walked away.

As I sat there eating my chicken & artichoke lasagna and french fries, here was the voice in my head, “This place charges an insane amount for its food. They won’t miss $10. I could give it to a homeless person. Redirect the corporate surplus. I should stop being so honest all the time. I could donate it to the Obama campaign. I could keep it. I’m sure it didn’t cost them more than $5 something to make the food I’m eating. But……..won’t I spend the rest of the day stressing about it? What if the cashier gets in trouble? What if it comes out of his check?”

And, with that, I finished up and returned the $10 to the embarrassed and grateful cashier.

This morning, I was running through my neighborhood and saw a BART ticket on the ground. I thought, “I should stop and see if there’s any money on it,” but decided to leave it and see if it was still there on my way back. Half an hour later, there it was. I picked it up. $13.05. The universe gave me interest!

I’m sitting in a café with a tall Pellegrino. It’s 7:22pm. I have a date here at 8, or “8-ish,” as I believe he said, which bugged me. I can write until he gets here which I will bet you will be in one hour. On a scale of 1-10, with 10 being out of my mind excited to meet him, I am a 3.

Sigh. It’s been a wild week. Coming back from the forced respite from this project was a little tough, re-facing the reality of it. But, as my acupuncturist told me a couple of hours ago, why not just continue the vacation until my cycle kicks back in? I can’t really do or plan anything until then anyway. I like that. I’m still on vacation from this.

Coming back, I feel stronger. An unexpected result of this that I am in close touch with my anger. I don’t typically have a temper but lately I am on a hair trigger. Don’t cross a line with me right now, because I’m not putting up with bullshit. I should have done this a long time ago. Toxic people: out. Reactive, ill-considered e-mail, send. Insensitive post: unfriend. Surround me with love and support and otherwise I do not have time for you right now.

I had a shock this week when I met up with a friend who left my company a few months ago. Halfway through lunch, she says, “SO, I hear you’re pregnant!” I was stunned. I’ve been so careful about not sharing this with work friends, only the tiniest handful. I said, “Oh really, who told you that?” And she chirped, “Everyone!”

Well, first of all, I’m not. (Of course, she was mortified.) And second of all, it’s not public knowledge. I feel betrayed by whoever leaked this super-private news that I shared in confidence. I don’t really blame this friend, or the others who heard through the apparent grapevine. They thought it was public. But the floor absolutely dropped out from underneath me.

It dawns on me now (yes, now, 4 months after starting a public blog) that people talk. It’s human nature–this is juicy news to share. People love to be the one who knows first. Rationalization: I’m sure it’s safe to tell, I mean, after all, she writes it all down on a public blog!

It also dawns on me that I have no idea who reads this blog. I know who subscribes to it, but there are anywhere between 30 and 100 views per day beyond that. Are you out there, my boss’s boss? Hello, ex-boyfriends! Greetings to all my enemies, frienemies, stalkers, and identity thieves. You’re all invited. This is a public blog. We’re in this together. Please, please, please don’t F this up.

It’s risky putting all this out there, but you know what? This is my choice. This is how I live. This is so me. I’m loving writing. I keep a cozy loveseat for some of my favorite people in here. I love this!

I won’t subscribe to conspiracy theories… No one is taking this to my boss (right???). This post is about karma. I will be trusting and faithful that this will blog will do more good than harm, and that my readers will hold this information with exquisite respect and care. Lord knows, it’s done me a world of good to share with you, dear readers. The beauty rises to the top, the garbage falls away. What goes around comes around. I forge ahead with love and the best intentions.

And if you don’t like it, you can fuck off!!!!

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

Obrigada

thesolomamaproject

This will be a quick post as I am in the Rio airport and boarding imminently! I entered so much personal info to get on the free airport network that I’m pretty sure my identity will be stolen any minute now… But not really (and no, I didn’t enter my SS#! Duh!)

I have a tall Itapaiva beer and the romantic Portuguese is starting to co-mingle with twangy Texan as we prepare to board our flight to Houston. I am exhilarated after our wild drive back to Rio and total success at every turn–nearly-missed exits where I blazed across 4 lanes of traffic, trying and failing to find any indication of highway numbers, and standstill rush hour traffic where teenage boys walk up and down selling snacks. Big Jesus oversaw us as we narrowly missed a bus trying to overtake our lane. We missed the airport, did a “retorno” and eventually pulled into the airport, had a complete miscommunication with the parking attendant and forged ahead anyway–ended up parking right near Thrifty (pronounced Treefchay), by coincidence. Car checked out and we were ready to fly home! Wheee!

Makes me want to keep traveling but, alas, it’s time to go home.

Incidentally, I fell in love today. I had some time to myself, sitting on a dock looking out at quaint old fishing boats and islands and calm waves, when this guy came over to chat with me. My flight is boarding so I will be short on the details. Sebastian. From Uruguay. We had this amazing 20 minute conversation before I had to go. I gave him my card in case he ever makes it up to California 🙂 Meanwhile he reminds me to keep my standards high, to reserve my precious time for guys who make me feel like THAT.

Brazil has been SO good for me. The beer is bringing out the all caps. If this were a travel blog, I would tell you all the details of delicious lovely wonderful Brazil. Instead, for this blog, I will just say GO.

Headed home. Obrigada, Brasil! ❤
And: one photo from our place in Buzios.

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

Rio-valuation

thesolomamaproject

I am blogging from a hammock, freshly bathed and slightly burned, watching the sun set. It’s my last night in Brazil.

Mostly, this trip was a welcome distraction. I let myself get carried away with caipirinhas, smoky eyes, and the perfect shoes. Capturing every picturesque moment on my fancy camera. Going with the flow with my Real World Rio roommates.

Losing my camera was a slap in the face: wake up! You’re only here a short time. Relax, meditate, Rio-valuate. Consider your life from the perspective of the southern hemisphere.

Buzios is a mellow beach town on the off-season, a good place to reflect.

Today, we stayed at our hilltop house with 360 water views on this glorious peninsula. We had the pool, warm sun, soft breezes, four iPads, and time. We all finally sunk into our respective quiet modes. I finished reading The Book Thief, a beautiful book that made me burst into tears at the end.

The tears have sprung into my eyes at odd moments where some tiny thing reminds me that no, that didn’t all happen to someone else. It happened to me. It seems far away but it shows up in my dreams. It shows up in Michelle Obama’s convention speech about struggling to reach your goals. And a Winston Churchill quote about never giving up on something you think about every day.

I can’t imagine giving up but it’s also true that I’m not quite ready for all the peeing on sticks. I have the sense that my body will time itself with my readiness, and, if not, I can always delay. I return mentally rested and physically needing to get back on the healthy train after all this eating out, full-on coffee, and several drinks a day. I haven’t even managed to take my prenatal vitamins.

I return ready to get back to work on Monday (crazy, I know). I return ready to date (but not the paramedic who seemed like a good prospect until he turned out to be really not), and I want to start really planning ahead: apartment, finances, career.

No, I don’t have to make New Year’s Resolutions in September. But I do believe I am due for a solo retreat. There’s been lots of chatting on this trip and I crave more silence. I am grateful to this crew, though, since I never would have made it here without them.

Tomorrow we’ll check out of this amazing house, do some last shopping and hit the road back to Rio. I am the only manual transmission driver. I love the wild driving, trying to discern clues from Portuguese signs, and breezing through, of all places, Brazil. A metaphor for life!

donor sperm, IUI, outdoors, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

!!!!!

thesolomamaproject

I woke up this morning at 5:30am, at first light, thinking ummmmmm do I want to test? Because I need to pee. Box says 99% accuracy on day of expected period. False negative is unlikely. I’ll want a day up here to process the result. I am or I’m not–the test just exposes the truth. Time to test. Just do it.

Heart pounding, hands shaking, peed on a stick.

Pregnant!!! (again!)

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I looked in the mirror at my pregnant self and smiled and said, “I knew it!” Because I did. Pretty much the whole two weeks, from the IUI lightning bolt onward. But since it’s hard to know what you know in this process, I didn’t want to say anything until now. Now I have the home test BFP and will feel more reassured when I cross the 5-day hurdle (which is far as I got last month), the likely day of my blood test (Monday), and even more reassured with each passing day. This is a tenuous time, as you and I already know all too well.

I had foolishly thought I could go back to sleep, but no such luck! I got up and had cereal, made coffee, and sat on the beach in the sunrise, feeling grateful.

When I went in, it was still very early. I could hear that someone was showering. I waited in the kitchen with my stick, ready to spring the good news on my parents. Imagine my surprise when my dad walked out buck naked! He froze in place when he saw me and said, OH! Well, maybe I’ll go put some clothes on! A good laugh in what was building to be a big moment. When he went back into the bedroom, I heard my mom say, “Did she pee on a stick?”

They came out, I told them the good news, they hugged me, and then we all were wide-eyed like, OK! One step at a time! And then we went about our biz. (Pretty much. My mom and I indulged a bit in re-looking at my donor’s photos, discussing first trimester symptoms, and watching an animated video of implantation. Have you guys seen that video? Fascinating. Here’s the link.)

I keep checking the stick to make sure a “Not” hasn’t shown up. So far, so good. 🙂

I feel happy and cautious and happy again. One less exclamation point in the title of this post compared to last time. Focusing on reducing stress, resting, eating well. Tomorrow I’ll go downstate to see Mrs. John and her family, including her brand-new 2mo baby boy. More baby time can only help!

Thank you for sending vibes of good health and gangbusters cell division! I love you all for being there.

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

Day 28

thesolomamaproject

Thanks for tuning in to see what’s going on with me. Breaking news: nothing yet!

Day 28 is everything. I find a lot of reassurance in the fact that you either are or you aren’t (thanks, Ms. R). Like in tennis, I must stay in a ready position as I anticipate the serve. Will it go left? Will it go right?

I figured out that I had counted the wrong dpo… today is 12dpo. Tomorrow will be 13dpo. Technically, I should wait until Thursday to test (which would be exactly two weeks). Theoretically, I shouldn’t get overjoyed until after the blood test. Even then, I should temper my excitement until 12 weeks. (My sister: “Isn’t it really a 12 week wait?”)

So many shoulds above! Here’s the thing: you don’t know until it happens. You can’t plan for how you’re going to feel or not feel. Today, I actually feel fantastic, if a little distracted.

I woke up this morning to find that the power was out. Took one call (I am on the clock today), then went for a run. As I believe I’ve said before, and will say again: everything is better after a run. The outside air, the sunshine, the physical exertion, the impact that works out all the kinks, the meditative space, the time for me. I am clear, energized, buzzing.

After the run, I headed over to the river house with a coffee to make use of its power and internet. No renters this week. I’m on my own, looking out at the river and the sun-dappled yard, it’s quiet. I have a bunch of work to do, but wanted to give you an update!

My plan is to test tomorrow, unless I don’t feel like it, in which case I’ll test Thursday, unless I also don’t feel like it (but I think I will). I can’t really think beyond Thursday. That’s the day I’ll leave this glorious place! I’ll try to make it back soon.

I’m hopeful. Which doesn’t mean certain devastation in the event that the ball goes left and whizzes by. It just is what it is.

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

countdown

thesolomamaproject

Back on the balcony, this time at 5:30pm. These summer days on the western edge of of the Eastern Standard Time zone are luxuriously long; the sun is still high in the sky but beginning to veer toward the west, creating familiar sparkles on the surface of the lake and causing me squint at my laptop screen under an umbrella. My dad is dozing in a nearby chair.

Today, my sister and her family took off at mid-day to head home. The almost-4yo has never been a fan of saying good-bye (who is?), and typically when she was younger would start pointedly ignoring you just prior to your departure. You’d ask her a question and she’d give you a hard stare and then go back to whatever she was doing as if you didn’t exist. Understandable.

Today was the first time I saw her acknowledge and manage her feelings a bit. She was mercurial all morning, and then came up to me with wide eyes and a small voice and said, “I’m going to miss you, KK.” Cue my heart breaking. The baby was bursting with smiles going off like fireworks and we all cried in the parking lot as they drove away.

Now that the little people are gone, we’ll segue into more big people activities like watching movies and swearing and hiking and reading. We made a trip to the library this afternoon to drop off all the kids books and pick up more books than I can possibly read between now and Thursday, especially since I’m working from here M-W, but the idea is to continue to relax and keep the work integrated with lots of sunshine and cool breezes.

It occurred to me yesterday that I always keep a countdown clock in my head while vacationing up here (panicked: how many days left?!), so that the end doesn’t have the chance to sneak up. I love being here and if I could slow down time, I would. I think I noticed this more explicitly because the Vacation Countdown (which makes time speed up) has now merged with the even more relentless Days Past Ovulation Countdown (which makes time slow down), and the latter is winning. Even though I’m having fun, time isn’t flying because I’m in the two week wait! My vacation is actually going slower! Win!

I’m on Day 25, so it’s anyone’s guess what happens next. I’m enough of a veteran now to not even hint at any symptoms since it’s either this or that and we don’t know yet. My intuition says yes, my intuition says no, my intuition says, “Don’t trust your intuition.” But I remain optimistic, because, shoot, why not? (And, no, I apparently haven’t gone back to swearing yet.)

So, the challenge is to be in the moment in the midst of the countdown. Isn’t this always the challenge? My mom and I have pledged to start doing our daily meditation now that the little ones are gone and we’re not just eating up every second of being with them. Meditation always slows things down and reconnects you to you and ensures that you come back from vacation with a true reset.

We just got back from kayaking down the Crystal River, a shallow, winding river with a gentle, almost imperceptible current. When you get your kayak pointed in the right direction, you can close your eyes and all of a sudden you’re hearing the wind in the trees and your parents’ paddles dipping in the water and the buzzing of dragonflies and, for just a moment, you don’t even feel yourself moving forward. That’s me, as much as possible, for the next few days. And always.

Strength and patience to all those waiting!

biological clock, IUI, outdoors, parenthood, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

vacation

thesolomamaproject

OK, that was a bit of a hiatus now that I’m on vacation–needed a break from the computer. At this moment, I am on the balcony of my parents’ place in northern MI and, even as we speak, I’m being summoned to paddleboard with my dad or take my niece to the beach, so much to do up here at the peak of summertime. But I’m taking a little time to write. I’m looking out at a placid Lake Michigan, one solo obnoxious boat breaking up the peaceful morning and buzzing around like a mosquito, a hazy sky and golden morning sunlight from behind me. A cool breeze. I dream of this balcony when I’m away.

Picking up where my last post left off. The evening of my IUI, I went over to the East Bay to have dinner with my friend C. Four years ago, we met on a Yosemite trip as part of a big hiking group, and I learned that this was her “last hurrah” before starting to try to get pregnant on her own. Although this was four years ago, I was already starting to have inklings that I may not find the right babydaddy in time, as I was then dating a guy not that seriously because I knew he didn’t want kids. At a party a month after the trip, I got a bigger download from C on the experience–she had gone through one round of trying and had just found out it didn’t work. She told me all about the national organization Single Mothers by Choice, the actual nitty-gritty process of getting oneself knocked up, and the onslaught of emotions following one failed attempt. I was fascinated and taking mental notes.

After that party, C’s journey suddenly went in a wildly different direction when she started dating the guy whose party it was, and after a few months they decided to get pregnant together. And they did get pregnant (on the first try), and had a baby girl. We fell out of touch after a little while.

About a month ago, I felt compelled to reach out to her to let her know what a big influence her experience had on me. Once I was ready to become an SMC last fall, I knew exactly where to go. She wrote back to tell me that my timing was coincidental as she and her baby’s father had just decided to separate (super amicably and gradually) and she was preparing to be a single mom after all. We started making plans to get together–lots to catch up.

Mere hours after my IUI last week, I headed over to the East Bay, and was greeted at the door by pretty little two-and-a-half-year-old S, who promptly looked up at me with wonder and said in two-year-old-speak, “You’re an angel!” I blinked and asked her to repeat that, and she said, “You’re an ANGEL!” Then she insisted that I take off my boots and join her on the couch for some jumping. According to her parents, this was not her usual drill with new friends, and I was honored.

Of course, I took this to be a cosmic sign. It was wonderful to catch up with C, to hear her whole story of pregnancy and birth and her overwhelming love for her girl. She offered to be a resource and support and I am excited to be back in touch.

The next two days I spent frantically preparing for the trip (mostly wrapping up work), got up at the crack of dawn on Sunday to fly 4.5 hours to Detroit then drive 5 hours up here. I’ve spent much of the past two days sleeping–sleeping in, naps, other naps. Decompressing. You just don’t know how much compression is in there until you let it out.

The big highlights here are my nieces, who are both nonstop cute and fun and fascinating: E is turning 4 and S is 9 months. E has taken to calling me “KK” (I’ve graduated from “Tata Hot,” which she called me as a baby), and her grandpa is now “Chatmo,” for reasons only she understands. S will look up at you and bestow a smile that is like the sun bursting out from behind the clouds. They are a blessing. Of course, it’s wonderful to be with my parents and sister and bro-in-law too. 🙂

Yesterday, I went running on the new Sleeping Bear Heritage Trail that recently opened up and is a big deal around here. It goes from Glen Arbor through the National Lakeshore land to Glen Haven and all the way to the Dune Climb. Chatmo was my SAG Team (Supplies and Gear) with water and snacks in his pack. I did 8 miles at a mellow pace, and we sailed along through the old-growth trees in the leafy shade and at one point a big deer bounded in front of us on the trail. She stopped and looked behind her and then took off again, followed by a dramatically prancing fawn.

I am 7dpo (days past ovulation) and calmly transitioning into the final week of the wait. I feel calm, surrounded by support (including my parents’ downstairs neighbors the W’s, my cheerleading squad), and that it’s just a matter of time.

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Happy 4th!

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

23 million

thesolomamaproject

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.