Sometimes I try so hard not to stress myself out that I stress myself out. It's not super productive. C recently completed his testing, so we're waiting to hear on that front and I got the word that the pills worked exceptionally well for me for the second time around. I'm still a little stressed. I'm anticipating stress at work today as we have 20 new patients coming in and nowhere to schedule follow-up appointments. It's only 8 hours and I suspect that I'll get through it somehow. What a boring post.

Puppy Dreams and Church Questioning

I think the hormones have calmed down. It's safe to come out of hiding.

I had a dream two nights ago that really bothered me and since I have told everybody about it, I should tell you too. It also bears noticing that I've been having these vivid, realistic dreams for about ten nights running, which has severely cut down on quality sleep. I dreamt that I had abdominal pain and C and I rushed to the hospital, where I labored and gave birth to . . . a puppy. It looked like a combination of my big yellow dog when she's all shaved, with my old fuzzy dachshund's head = creepy. I remember feeling so sad that we would have to try again to have a real baby. That wasn't even the most disturbing part of the dream, because I apparently went around to nurses and friends and family asking the same question: does this normally happen? That a person goes into the hospital and gives birth to a puppy? What kills me is that every single person I spoke with (in my dream) said the same thing: sometimes this happens. NO IT DOESN'T! PEOPLE DON'T GIVE BIRTH TO PUPPIES! IT never HAPPENS! Laugh, it's okay. The husband and the friends definitely laughed. Psych majors can discuss among themselves how this dream represents my feelings on the lack of control over the pregnancy situation and maybe a slight feeling that I'm either not getting the right answers or I feel that I'm not being taken seriously. I'm not for sure.

Went to a Dr appt on Thursday and my doctor is working her way back into my heart. I apparently do not get kicked out of her practice after three rounds of pills (like a nurse told me); she said we'd do another after this cycle (#3) and then we'd try something else. I'm not sure what, but that very comment gave me confidence. This week C is getting checked and we should have the results of that within two or three days. This way, the next time around, we can be sure that everything is in working order. I am, thankfully, not having the same, misleading symptoms as last month, so I feel no need to over analyze what could be. I figure that I'll eventually get smacked upside the uterus by the Irony Fairy (I apparently deeply offended the Fertility Fairy) and have triplets.

I love that the weekend is here! I'm going to try my best to clean and organize the house. With the weather in this state (ever changing) it's not quite safe to pack away sweaters yet. In a different vein, the church has got it out for me. Let me back up. I was raised in the church and ended up going to a Christian school (which probably ruined me). I know Bible stories, the way to heaven, and quite a few Christian song lyrics. None of these things make you a Christian. I know this. I've been really good my entire life at pretending Christianity. I keep thinking that I want to raise children in the church because it provides a moral compass (in addition to what parents provide) and a community. When I was no longer pregnant, I became very very angry with God. Most of my friends and family forgive/overlook/sort of understand that. It's like I was given a reason to be mad. And now? Now, there is a guy at work that feeds directly off the church party line: "God loves you," "There's only one way to heaven," etc. I'm not sure I appreciate it. My path back to the church is not paved and there is no car. It's going to come at it's own time in it's own way. That's all I have to say about that.

The Hormones Say AHHHHHHHHH!

I remember telling that guy I work with that the little pills were nothing to be afraid of (his wife was beginning the pill journey). I remember saying the side effects were minimal. It's totally worth it and no worries, are what I added.

I would have been wrong. Very, very wrong. The only thing I was right about, is if the pills work and do what they are supposed to, is that the side effects are worth it. Beyond that, I should have worried, or been optimistically cautious. This is the third round for me. The first had no definite side effects, the second brought some mood swings and night sweats, and the third has made me a stark raving mad lunatic who is lucky her husband will still sleep with her (which, to achieve pregnancy, is oh-so helpful).

Monday, I practically bawled at work and had a meltdown about scheduling. I came home and freaked out on my husband (freaked out includes screaming, crying, and often throwing lightweight objects) twice. That means that we remedied my first issue and I created another one. I slept very well that night. The hormones have taken over my body. Guess I just didn't realize it was going to be like this. Tuesday, after seriously encouraging words from AM, I told the boss what was going on (i.e. I'm not crazy, there is a reason for my attitude) and she said that she understood; perhaps in the way that a forty-year-old woman wanted to have a baby. It's all worth it because these pills are forcing my body to do what it should be doing naturally and this increases our chance for pregnancy.

Color me hormonal and grateful.

Because I Like to Write Books

I'm sitting in the living room typing on my brand new laptop. Remember all those posts about how C and I have wonderful families that love us so very much? Sometimes my mom shows this by buying us things. Like finding an on sale laptop for herself at Best Buy and randomly calling my sister and I to see if each of us wanted one. I feel a little guilty about accepting the gift, but here in my living room, typing on the internet, it's hard to feel that bad. Besides, like she said, it's for school!

Life update reads like this: job is still going well - the staff cares about me at least (as opposed to the last job I held), but there's always that corporate stuff hanging over our heads; school is slightly less busy as I am currently only taking one online class (justification for a new laptop?), but it's going to pick up this summer while I take four classes. A little voice in my head has been telling me to just finish the Master's degree ASAP. No real idea why. So I'm aiming to be completely done by December. I guess in case a baby decides to show up in the new year. I've watched AM balance the baby life and the school life and though she is amazing at it, I have no desire to try it out. But just like her, I want to be a seriously educated mommy.

These last two weeks were rather rough on me (us) and probably everyone around us. I'm still getting comments that I don't seem myself. My mind hasn't been with a lot of things. We're off to begin the magic pills (that work!) soon and I am anticipating the night sweats and hot flashes now (NO DOWN BLANKETS ON THE BED!). This whole journey has been exhausting and painful. I know that most of you realize this, but it was so nice to hear E say the other day - that our kids will know (if nothing else) that they are so very very loved. Not that children conceived easily aren't loved - because I don't think that! At this point, we aren't talking months anymore on the eerie baby roller coaster ride; as of June, it will be two years we've been on this ride. For those that think that's a long time - it is. For those that don't - try it. And the hormones, co pays, blood draws, discarded lily white negative pregnancy tests - all with a side of broken heart.

Me? In somewhat of a rage, I woke up at 7am Saturday and decided to really and truly go for a run. It's been a sweet inside joke between C and I since we started dating (and as a side note, I am totally wearing the pants I was wearing the first night we went to his apartment and partied). I put on the jogging essentials and took off into the dewy morn. Yeah. I don't run, so I made it maybe 1/2 a mile. Came home and did compulsive yoga poses. Next morning: run (probably 1/4 mile because I was SORE), weights at home, and some work on an awkward piece of exercise equipment. I felt sore, but great from the endorphin release afterwards. I also figured out that exercise may be the only acceptable form of self punishment in our culture. Because, what I was really doing was telling my body that if the reproductive parts won't do what they're supposed to, I sure as hell will make the rest of my body perform. Acceptable self punishment. The ears might be part of it too - they're stretching to 4s and pictures will be forthcoming.

Success is Limited

I hoped. It's really hard not to hope. It's like taking a bright happy photography and dipping it in inky dye so that everything is cast over. I can't live my life like that. I used to be the happy girl and after this past year, I refuse to let that happiness be taken away from me. It is practically a companion and I really can't survive the loneliness that comes if all happiness should leave. That doesn't make any of this easier.

I want a baby so very very much. I've checked myself over and over to make sure that I don't want a little human being just because I can't have one. That's not it. If there had been a speck of that in my heart, it would have been erased when we lost our first. Every month since then has brought the grief of not being the month that we get to celebrate a pregnancy. Being forced to face your inadequacies every single month isn't something I wish on anyone.

This month I hoped. The pills work and work well and I am again, so very grateful to live in a day where I have the option to use them and the possibility that they might work - and they do! It just didn't result in a pregnancy for us. So we can try again.

So you know, I did want to call all of you with good news. I can't wait to call you with good news. Right now, though, the pain doesn't even knock at the door of my heart - it just barges in, wreaks havoc, and throws the switch for the tears. Damn tears.