Beyonce and Jay-Z need to get over themselves

Did anyone else read this story?

http://omg.yahoo.com/blogs/goddess/beyonce-birth-lap-luxury-192004098.html

I. AM. DISGUSTED. How can we, as a society, be ok with this? To let people just buy their way in to being more important than the rest of us? I really don't care if that guy was only kept from his kids in the NICU for a minute or two...I'm sure any parent would feel panicked in that situation.
Look, I'm all about realizing that celebs are "just like us". For example, when Kasey Kahne tweeted about the woman breastfeeding in the grocery store, I reminded myself that, let's be honest, he's a guy. We should be surprised he didn't talk about that woman's boobs! Also, who knows what that woman really looked like. I'm all for breastfeeding in public, I fully plan to do it myself (breastfeed in public, much to the dismay of Curtis), but maybe she wasn't covering up? Maybe he caught a wayward spray? Regardless, I didn't see his tweet as something to rip him over. This Beyonce, Jay-Z, Blue Ivy (really ?!?) circus. Just plain bullshit. 

Round 2...if you could even consider it a round

Remember how I told you to call me Murphy from now on? Well, let me rest my case:
Today I had my ultrasound to check my follicle growth from the 5mg of Femara I was on. The ultrasound lady in my doctor's office was out today, so they had to send me to a fertility clinic (like with my HSG) with a Reproductive Endocrinologist. Dr. A was hands down the nicest doctor I have ever met, besides my doctor of course. He made me feel so comfortable and seemed genuinely interested in my case. Maybe it was because he went to college with my doctor and they are apparently "old pals", maybe it was because I actually did my hair and makeup today...I'll never know. Actually, I think that's how RE's are supposed to be. Regardless, he determined, from my ultrasound, that I indeed have PCOS to the highest degree, and that the Femara medication is just.not.working. He said that by looking at my follicles, I wasn't going to ovulate again this month. Apparently they prefer to see follicles that are 2mm big. Mine were measuring 12cm...so as Nurse C put it, "Little Bitty guys..". Ha ha ha-obviously. So the Get Lindsay Knocked Up Plan has officially been moved in revision C: 100mg of Clomid here we come!! And the good news is that I don't have to take another dose of Provera (progesterone) and wait for Aunt Flow to rear her ugly head. I can start taking the Clomid tonight...or as soon as I go pick up my script for Wally World. Then, in 11 days, I get another ultrasound to see how those folly-babies are responding. At $320 a pop, I'm not too excited to have another one in 3 weeks, but I'm hoping that this upcoming one won't be in vain.

[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?