Fill in the blank with what ever adjective you desire after reading this. I chose the f word.

I got an e-mail from the acupuncturist I used to see for fertility. She specializes in women’s health and supposedly has a strong rate of getting women knocked up. I did enjoy her services, although they did not help anything, they were relaxing. I am by no means saying acupuncture does not work. My belief is on the contrary, but it did not help my pregnancy related issues and that just sucks. It was expensive and time consuming and now stressful.

The acupuncturist I saw acted very compassionate to the emotional stress of infertility and informed me that she would like to focus on this area and combine her acupuncture with yoga to help infertile women with a mind body approach. Good idea, well, if once women get pg they magically disappear and are not spoken of ever again. When will people get it that these areas cannot overlap if the application is truly going to be therapeutically beneficial??? There is no benefit of my acupuncture appointment if I leave the room and am bombarded by the herd of pregnant women attending prenatal yoga and having to hear them complaining about having to run to the bathroom often during class (my acupuncturist in in a yoga studio). This happened when I had a Saturday morning acupuncture appointment and I soon avoided this time slot for the very reason of wasting the $75 the session cost me. When I provided feedback to my acupuncturist about this I sensed she didn’t get it.

Now I know she didn’t get it. Not too long ago she send an e-mail to her client base, mostly infertiles, letting them know of her new location/services. Click it and find out why I am so pissed off that I have not found a productive way to respond. I could inform her of her poor business decision, give her the harsh reality, or just ask to be taken off the list. The last option seems too simple becasue I do feel the need to be justified as legitimately annoyed by her actions. I guess that fact that I will no longer recommend her, which I had done quite a bit, is all the action I will probably take.

She doesn’t get. She never will. She will probably throw some mind-body-shit at me about why I can not see the value of this. I will not return to her services….EVER.


On November 2nd we will be meeting with some friends for dinner to celebrate a successful thesis defense of one of the group members and the conquering of malaria for another. I am looking forward to the dinner venue and the drinks/dessert at our house following. The thing I am not looking forward to is the pregnancy announcement by one of the couples in the group.

It is even harder to take since I am not really friends with them, but they are good friends of our friends. Basically, I know very little about them other than they have a kidney shaped garden and he is placing his seed inside her. The latter has nothing to do with the former, but strangely the two conversations I have had with this couple both involve fertilization of some sort. Now, I am not even certain that they are pg, but the conversation was this past spring and, well, most people do not hang out on this side of this statistics so I am shamefully assuming they are fertile. I am usually dead on with my preg-dar, it must compensate for my faulty gay-dar. Perhaps it was an evolution of my very own survival instinct, because if I was not prepared for some of the announcements I have endured I may have perished immediately.

How do I prepare myself for the announcement I know is coming as soon as the wine list starts to circulate? I will try not to cringe as the she in the couple tells the server she needs something non-alcoholic because she is pregnant. Does the server really care? Honestly, just order your ginger ale and drink it in silence as I shoot you scornful glances through my beer. Note to self: only order dark ale on Friday night.

Since we are adopting, many people seem to think my feelings toward fertiles are magically going to perish. These feelings took a solid 4 years to develop and not going to dissipate overnight. Part of my pain will reside with me forever. It is not the type of thing I will tattoo to my upper arm or speak of when asked about regret. In fact I don’t regret our path. I don’t regret that it didn’t work or that we didn’t try just one more time. My life philosophy doesn’t leave room for regret. I can be sad, but it should not be confused with regret. Although, we are rapidly pursuing adoption and are very excited about it, I cannot just rationalize away my feelings. As I have written before, adoption and infertility are two distinct paths. I can possess extreme joy and sadness at the same time. Yes, it is possible. No, it is not unhealthy. Denying my emotions and stuffing them away would be unhealthy.

So until the pain of still being infertile even though I am adopting remains, I will regress to the place I was when we were unsuccessfully trying but not outwardly infertile. It feels funny to have come this far and still be back where we were 3 years ago.  People were finally beginning to understand that comments about our fertility may be frustrating to us, I fear that asking them to understand the complexity of my current state of mind will leave me friendless.

There are few things in life that evoke such varying emotions as fire.

As I sat in my backyard and stared into the urban fire blazing in our brick fire pit I felt a soothing desire. While my mind was reminiscing of cooking hot dogs on a camping trip and falling asleep near a crackling warmth on Christmas Eve, I realized how far removed infertility took me from enjoying life. I was finally able to decompress as I burned off the pain of dealing with infertility and stoked a new adoption dream with each added log and and kindling. I halfheartedly joked to Mr. Jitter’s, as he grabbed a paper grocery bag to help the fire burn quicker, that we could just burn the contents of our IVF file. Perhaps we will tomorrow night.

I am not certain why I am drawn to fire. Perhaps it’s allure comes from historical to present reference; fire was a cultivator of society and in some form or another is still a common trait of mankind today. When we are in control, fire cooks our food and keeps us warm, yet when fire is in control we risk losing everything. We are dependent on fire, or the concept of combustion, to survive, but this very thing that sustains us can so quickly take us, all our humanly possessions, and often our spirit.

While dealing with infertility I precariously played with fire and towards the end I found my ability to maintain control slipping away. Perhaps it is the control I currently posses over my personal fire that fosters my ability see the destruction of fire as a chance for something new.

New opportunity. New path. New experiences. New life. New family. New relationship. New understanding. New fears.

Most importantly, a newly found happiness.

Two posts from me in a day, this must be really good…..

While sitting in the consult room after my wanding this morning I was staring at inspiration poster that had the annoying message of “the only thing certain is change”.

Ah, no, the only thing certain is that my body will always defy the norm.  When my protocol insists I go on birth control to prevent cysts, I grow monster ones.  When I stimulate very well for IUI’s at another clinic we transfer the same protocol and then I hardly stim at all.  When My reliable 28 day period needs to be the closest to 28 days possible for IVF timing, it winds up being 2 weeks late.  And let us not forget, when we need to start our final round of IVF so we can be out of this personal hell, my E2 comes in at 46 – a bit too high to start this cycle.  They want to retest tomorrow, but I already know the result will not be in my favor.  Also, why would I want to go ahead and proceed when the cycle is already a bit compromised from the start.  There were 3 residual cysts on my scan this morning and I fear they will be problematic if we do in fact proceed.  Part of me wants this over-with, but then the other part wants to proceed when the timing is optimal.

 Right now, the optimal timing looks like after my marathon in October.  We could strive for August, but why not wait another 6 weeks or so and then I can at least accomplish one of my goals before I turn 30 since I will not be done with my MA degree and I certainly won’t have a child by then.  What is time anyway?  I mean, it will have be only a year since our last IVF?!?!?!  Just a year…. oh, but I am young and I have plenty of time (insert sarcasm).

This coming Wednesday officially marks a periodof 4 weeks since I surged positive on a OV tester kit.  4 weeks and no period, this sounds like a positive sign…  (ok, bad puns).

Any idea where my period is?  It was due April 20th/21st, but it is STILL NOT HERE. I went in for blood work on the following Monday and the HcG was negative and my progesterone was at 4.4.  Consequently I ovulated and every doctor that told me you always ovulate 2 weeks before your period now needs to eat dirt.  In the mean time,  I have POAS’ed enough times to that I am certain Clearblue Easy stock is going to soar due to record product sales.  This is especially annoying because we are set to start our final IVF when my period arrives.  Now we are almost 2 weeks off schedule and it is starting to impose on our summer plans.  To think, I was going to try an be all zen about this upcoming cycle.  Screw that – I am so post-zen right now.

If any of you find my period, please send that skank my way.  She has blown way past her curfew.