[Insert some witty title here]

As if the past week wasn't exciting enough, the Provera finally did it's job and cycle day 1 started on Tuesday. I called and refilled my prescription for the Femara and decided to check on the two remaining refills I have. My doctor was kind enough to write me 5 prescriptions of the Femara total, and since I've met my deductible for this year (with my insurance), I wanted to see if I could fill all remaining prescriptions. You see, I only pay $7 per round right now. Unfortunately, I waited to long and will only be able to get one more prescription filled before the end of the year; on the 31st exactly! If this round, and that round fail, the next one I buy in 2012 will cost us $186. Hopefully that dollar sign is motivation to my ovaries to GET STUFF DONE. haha.
Anyways, cycle day 3 hit yesterday, so I started my first dose of the Femara. As usual, Curtis is just starting his graveyard shift, so I'm all by my lonesome with only my crazy pills and Netflix to keep me company. Well, that's not true. I do have two cute little German Shepherd puppies to keep me company. I'm not sure if I told you, but the day after my Pop passed, my female German Shepherd (we have a male and a female), Ava, had puppies. We knew she was pregnant, as I found them stuck together outside one day, and as luck would have it, she went in to labor almost right after we left town. Thankfully my brother-in-law and his girlfriend were able to hold down the fort until Curtis got back. She only had two, thank God, but they are two of the cutest puppies I've ever seen! I'm fighting getting too attached to them, as we know we don't want four or even three full grown GSD's to feed, but it's so hard when they are just.so.adorable! So while they are at the house, keeping me busy with letting them out to go to the bathroom and feeding/weaning them, I am keeping as much distance as I can. They turned 6 weeks old today, so when I get off work it'll be time for their shots. And while we wanted to keep them until they were 8 weeks, they are getting to be quite the handful and seem to be able to make it just fine without Mama, so they may be able to go to new homes a bit sooner.

Then to top it all off with a big, fat cherry, Curtis and I are completely sick. I started it by coming home from the family fiasco with my sister's cold and it's just working its way around our house. I'm downing vitamin c like nobody's business, hoping that this wears off before New Year's day. Who wants to start out a year alone with a cold? Yea, Curtis is working New Year's night. I swear, fate, Mother Nature, God, whomever!, has just decided that every round of Femara is torture time for Lindsay. It always happens on graveyard! Ugh.
Anyways, enough of my ranting and complaining. Ultrasound is scheduled next Friday at a new doctor's office since my office's u/s tech is out. If all goes well, I could be getting my trigger shot that day! Two days before Curtis' next graveyard shift begins. UGH. Do you know how unromantic it is to spend the hour and 15 minutes I have with him on graveyard days with a pillow under my butt, legs in the air, naked as a jaybird? Trust me it's not.

Now I know this post is getting long, but bare with me (is it bare? or bear? Heck if I know). If you've been reading this blog since the beginning, or even jumped in somewhere in the middle, I thank you. The support from friends and in-laws has been inspiring and so wonderful. I seriously love each and every one of you. 2011 was quite the year for me. I swear it flew by, yet I feel like we accomplished so much in that short time. I lost the greatest man I knew and was diagnosed with infertility. My stepson was taken across the country and we spent money we were saving for a family vacation on a lawyer instead. But in the midst of all this negative, Curtis and I grew closer than ever before. I don't think my relationship has ever been as solid as it feels now. I made friends and grew closer to people I never would've imagined, some whom I've never even met!, seem closer to me now than my own family. So while I can't wait for 2012, I can say I'll never forget 2011. It was a real turning point for me. And I hope that all of you have fond memories of 2011 that you can look back on. I wish you all a Happy New Year and I'll see you all on the other side of 2012! Here's to new beginnings!

Mommy dearest

I think I can officially say that I just had the WORST.CHRISTMAS.EVER. Seriously. Why, you ask? Oh, let me count the ways:

• Christmas Eve: my mother makes it a point to get excited and ask my step-brother why he and his GIRLFRIEND aren't trying to have kids. Scowls each time I talk about my infertility. 
• Christmas Day: While watching The Help, seeing the part when Celia has her third miscarriage and plants a tree over the baby, my brother makes the comment, "She can't have kids, she's useless." 
• My other brother makes a comment about the excessive amount of hair on my arms. I explain to him that it's due to the fact that I have more testosterone than other women. I try to make a joke about my beard and shaving. He makes the most disgusted face when looking at me, like it's my fault. 
• My father later makes the comment to Curtis, "Go find a chick on the side. I bet she can have kids."
• Day after Christmas, at breakfast: My mother finally starts to speak out that she doesn't believe in infertility and that we shouldn't be trying anyways. We're too young. I bring up what she said to my brother and his GIRLFRIEND. She mocks my hurt feelings saying, "Why do you take it so personally? Oh, poor wittle windsey...". I ignore her and cry in the car on the way to my Nana's house. 
• We meet my mother for shopping, with my Nana, my sister and my brother's girlfriend in tow. My sister and I get in to an argument ( I called her a cunt. I'm not proud of it. I later apologized, but we're still not talking) and I call Curtis to come get me. I'm going home. My mother calls me and we get in to a huge fight. 
• She admits that she thinks my infertility is just for show and sympathy. It's not real and we don't really want a baby. 
• She admits that she blames me for the fact that her and my Pop were not as close as they used to be because I manipulated him when I was younger.
• She "apologizes" for the infertility, I accept, and the conversation ends.
• I call my Nana to let her know I made it home safe, she relays that my mother told her while I was out of ear-shot, while we were shopping, that she basically believes I'll be a bad mom anyways. Because it's MY fault my stepson doesn't like reading and isn't very good at it. It's MY fault he doesn't excel in school. Because I should be a goddamn SUPER PARENT from 2,500 miles away. When every single time we've told her we're trying for full custody, SHE talks us out of it. Now, it's MY fault that James is lackluster in school. Why even try to have children of MY OWN, when they'll basically be stupid and I'll basically suck at being their mother. 

So tell me, how was YOUR Christmas? 

Let's get it started!

So, today I called Nurse C back and let her know that the pregnancy test I took last night was negative. She sounded realllll shocked*. Since Dr. M (my fantabulous doctor**) was in the office today, Nurse C was able to call me back in a matter of minutes. They are apparently calling in a script of Provera for me to jump start my period. Once AF rears her ugly face I am to stop the Provera (if in the middle of the 10 day dosage), then call the office. She did note, however, that I could potentially not see AF for up to 10 days after the 10 day dosage, but I'm to check in with her next Friday. I guess the office will be closed for a bit after Christmas and they may need to call me in some referrals (ultrasounds, bloodwork, etc.) before they leave.

Looks like I know what I'm getting for Christmas this year...




*Dripping with sarcasm if you can't tell.
**I seriously have such an awesome doctor and nursing staff. I adore every single one of them...even the billing department!

My doctor must think I'm a glutton for punishment

As I told you in the last post, my progesterone tests came back level 1 as opposed to the normally accepted level 3. As part of my previous protocol, if 14 days after my positive opk came without sight of Aunt Flo, I was supposed to take a pregnancy test. As luck would have it, day 14 was Saturday. So yesterday, I called my doctors office and asked them if they still wanted me to take a pregnancy test. While, yes, we were on day 16 of no sign of AF, I felt it silly to get my hopes up and take a pregnancy test with my progesterone levels so low. I wanted to the doctor to guide me...telling me to either take one or read the blood work as basically a no-way-in-hell-you're-pregnant-cause-you-basically-didn't-ovulate-stupid. Today the nurse, whom I'm finally remembering is named Nurse C, called me back and relayed the doc's message :

"With your progesterone level at 1 instead of a 3, we cannot be confident that you ovulated. BUT, we would like you to take a pregnancy test tonight, just to be sure. Then call us back tomorrow." 

Sure thing Doc. Apparently, you must not be aware that every stick I pee on, and subsequently receive the glaring negative from, is in fact a punch to the stomach each time. Yeaaaa, it fucking blows. I've now decided that I'm going to try and see that little non-two-pink-lines-result as a positive thing. From now on that negative will remind me that for the next few days I have free reign on Happy Hour without feeling any ounce of guilt. I've heard of this new Skinny Girl Sangria? That damnable little stick just gave me the green light to down a whole bottle before deciding if I like it. Hell, maybe I'll buy two different flavors and see how good BOTH of them are. Lush Lindsay, appearing for duty!!
I guess, now since my body has decided to not ovulate either, it's back to the drawing board with my doc. I figure you guys can just start calling me Murphy. Anything that can, will go wrong...especially with my shoddy reproductive system.