Babies Bawl at Benihana

There aren't many times I am tempted to say this, but:
GAWD I'm glad I don't have kids!

Mark and I went to Benihana for Japanese food tonight. (It was good, but Tokyo House still holds my heart in its greasy little hands.) And there was a kid at the table next to us. Having a FIT. For, oh I don't know, 45 minutes? And everyone was just shooting daggars at their table. Truly, it was so irritating.

Chopsticks are sharp. It was downright scary at moments.

But seriously...what do you do when your child is screaming nonstop for several minutes in a public place? This little boy was probably 4 or 5. To me, it seems like his parents should've taken him somewhere private to calm down and brought him back.

Some mom-blogger is reading this and saying "stupid infertile idiot. what do you know about kids?"

I don't know anything about kids, so ha! And I had a nice glass of wine, flirted with my husband, and ate my dinner in peace (with the exception of your screaming child). Jealous??

OK, I have to go obsess over IVF now. ;)

Are we planning to have kids?

Gosh, I really haven't thought about it. Hmm...

I kid.
I kid because I love.

Nothing is going on, and blah blah blah why the hell did I start this blog?

I applied to the Cleveland Clinic IVF Program. I dropped off my medical records on 1/11, and verified that they received the application. So now some doctor is deciding if we qualify for the IVF program.

They need to make sure we're worthy before they take our insurance company's $10,000.

And also, who the hell puts themselves through IVF if they didn't need it? Not me. No Suri Cruise.

At least the waiting gives me more time to prime Mark for the reality that he will have to give me a giant shot every day. He's afraid he might "get woozy."

I mean, I can see his point. I don't want to overwhelm him, what, with all the looking at porn in a private room and masturbating into cups he has to do already! I'm like a friggin slave driver over here! And he can't use lube! I'm not sure what this world is coming to. I'm expecting the divorce papers any day now.

I will bribe him with Mountain Dew and Peanutbutter M&M's. It will be alright, people!

Goodbye 2007...

You've been a real asshole and I won't miss you at all. I hope you get herpes and a severe UTI.

Hello 2008! How was your trip? Can I get you a beverage? A soft blanket? I'm sorry I wasn't awake to welcome you...I had a few too many tasty drinks and decided to go to bed. No hard feelings. Let's be best friends!

What? I have a blog?

Oh my gosh...I think I have trouble with commitment. As in, committing to consistently posting on this blog.

So many things have happened, but everything has managed to stay exactly the same.

1. We have IVF coverage! 3 Tries, fully covered. Good, good news.

2. We have to switch doctors. We have IVF coverage! but not with Dr. Fabulous...Damnit. His lab isn't contracted with my insurance company. We're looking at Cleveland Clinic because we're pretty sure they would be contracted. According to his IVF coordinator, "Your company doesn't reimburse enough, and we can't lose money." Whatever, lady. I bet she has, like, 7 kids. All accidents.

3. I am sick of dealing with doctors and nurses, and insurance companies. And anyone who is over-worked and probably under-paid and is just generally a pain in my ass. I can't get a straight answer from anyone and I'm just taking a break. One more month of no baby is a drop in the bucket after 22 months. Who cares at this point? Not me, and not everyone who is sick of my complaints and my un-fun-ness.

4. Everyone is pregnant! I keep thinking it will stop, because hello? Everyone is pregnant already. But no! There are more everyones, and they're all pregnant! And happy! Bastards! Pregnancy glory hogs!

5. I am fat. I blame it on infertility. Not on my habits of shoving food into my mouth and watching tv until my butt hurts from sitting. It's infertility's fault.

I can't wait for 2007 to be over. 2007 beat me like I was its red-headed stepchild.

2008 is going to be cute and fabulous, and it will love me and take me shopping and we will have good times. Like Carrie and Stanford, 2008 and I.

So cheerful, it's almost gross.

I had a wonderful day today!

I will save you the boring details, in case you are not interested in the excruciating bore that is my life: MY MEDS ARE COVERED!

$6,675 for IVF and that's it!

Now for the boring details.

I was in a good mood today.

If you're dealing with infertility, you know how great it is to have the fog clear for a day and to just feel good. And normal and happy.

I got to work and got a bunch of stuff done!
I cleared out my inbox and returned all of my emails!
I successfully dodged my boss for 4 hours!
I planned out our budget until July!
I made a very yummy spreadsheet with formulas and workbooks!*
I finished my Christmas shopping during my lunch break!

I was feeling good, productive...I was kicking ass. Not taking names. No time for taking names!

Then I checked my cell and had a message from the insurance billing coordinator** at the RE office. She called my insurance company to verify that my meds are covered and they are. THEY ARE! Yessssss <------ Napoleon Dynamite style. The one true flaw for the day is that I did not get to enjoy a Frosty. I have a coupon book for 10 free Frosties (right? the plural of...ah, fuck it). I made the mistake of going to Wendy's at 12:30.

I couldn't even pull into the parking lot and I almost wrecked into a total douche driving a Lexus SUV, smoking a cigarette, and yelling into a cell phone while driving like Nick Hogan.****

So I decide to park and go in, but when I get to the door, I find that the line is actually out the door and around the building. In 30 degree weather. Call me crazy, but I said screw the Frosty.

*Organization = Orgasm

**I have no idea how Dr. Fabulous runs his office because it is insanely busy and I can always get an appointment, and I never have to sit in the waiting room. However, he has all kinds of staff with different titles, all containing the word "coordinator." IVF Coordinator. Finance Coordinator. Insurance Billing Coordinator. Nurses Coordinator. Coordinators Coordinator?***

*** I'd like that job. I bet I could really coordinate all of the coordinators. I'd coordinate the shit out of them.

****I hate rich people. I should have let him hit me, then filed a law suit for damages in the amount of $6,675.

Oh, Hai....

What? Am I pregnant?

Ah hahahahahaha! No you silly goose! I am not, but thank you for asking.

Not only am I not pregnant, I am having the worst. Period. Ever.

And also - we need to do IVF.

See? I'm so much fun to be around these days! If you haven't been around me, you're missing out. I am a barrell of laughs. I have many interesting and funny and witty things to say, and people's eyes do not glaze over as I talk about ANOTHER setback in trying to just have a damn baby. I am so not bitter. I'm so happy for the million people I know right now who got pregnant after a few months of trying. I'm so excited for the holidays so I can see people who will all say the wrong thing. I can't wait to have to talk about our adventures in baby-making - because damn this is all so much fun! Wheeeeee!

You know how sometimes you get on an amusement park ride or roller coaster? And after about 30 seconds you just want to scream to the controller - "STOP THIS RIDE! I WANT OFF!"

That sums it up. I need a break.
And maybe copious amounts of alcohol.

Me? I'm PUPO!

PUPO = Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise
Me = PUPO

We did our inseminations on Wednesday and Thursday this week. It was pretty painless.

The worst part was when Mark was singing all of the late 80s/early 90s songs on the intercom while I was laying down for 10 minutes afterward. While he does a great Gloria Estefan, I still hate to worry that all of the sperm will squirt out from my hysterical laughing.

Our counts were just OK on Wednesday - 10 million, 85% motile. The doctor said that would be considered average but 20 million is what you want to see.

Thursday, we had 20 million, 92% motile.

30 million sperm all in my body.
One of those fuc*ers better fertilize my egg!

Clomid is boring.

I was expecting to have a license to be a complete bitch. I was really looking forward to yelling at Mark for simply being a man. I wanted to feel the desire to claw someone's eye out.

No such luck. I have had no side effects at all. Woe is me.

Tomorrow is my ultrasound, and hopefully my shot! Then inseminations on Monday and Tuesday.

Boring, right?

Jabba's still in da hawse *updated*

I still haven't pooped.

The good news: I may or may not be growing a small continent in my bowel. I plan to connect it to California when it breaks off and floats out into the Pacific.

The bad news: Have morphed into a senior citizen who discusses bowel habits with any other adult who will listen. Am gross.

More bad news: There is a version of the Black Eyed Peas song "Where is the Love" going through my head, but instead of love it says poop. "Where is the poop? The poop? Where is the poop? Poop? Where is the poop; the poop; the poop?"

Again with the bad news: Actually said to Mark, "I am not going ANYWHERE until I take a shit! Any. Where!"

I lied. I went to Arabica to study. I got so excited because I had a GURGLE - I jumped up out of my seat, let the chair deafeningly scrape against the hardwood floor and hightailed it to the restroom.

The Women's room was occupied, but the Men's room was wide open. I briefly considered waiting like a rational 27 year old woman, but then went right into the Men's room.

I may have actually let out a squee of delight as I locked the door and sat down - finally! the poop! squee!

Sadly, no dice. Or poop. La saga continues.
Shit.

*Update*
I pooped! It was not all that I thought it would be. But it was a start.
I've never been so happy to take a crap in my entire life.

Egg Factory is a Go

I got my Clomid and HCG today!

I took the first Clomid an hour ago and guess what! I'm not crazy yet!

My internal ultrasound went fine - no cysts and my "uterus looks wonderful." That is what Dr. Fabulous said. I bet he wanted to say badass.

Clomid for five days, then on 11/11 I go in for an ultrasound to see how my follies are growing. If they are the right size, they will give me the HCG shot to make me ovulate. Inseminations are the two days following the HCG shot.

In other exciting news: I haven't *ahem* dropped the kids at the pool since Monday. My stomach is killing me - like a sharp pain every time I take a step. I am so bloated that someone at Target actually thought I was Jabba the Hut and asked for my autograph.

On Sunday I weighed myself, and on Wednesday I weighed 10 POUNDS MORE! I am so full of shit (literally) and gas and water that I gained 10 pounds. I even took a laxative and added Benefiber to my yogurt yesterday and today. I swear, I am about to go buy a tub of prunes and eat until I go.

Pray for a poo here soon, folks.