Peter Criss is a Whiny @sshole!

I was checking out neighborhoods I might like the other day (that's called stalking by some of you!) and the song "Beth" by KISS came on the radio.  The song was co-written by their drummer, Peter Criss, and he also sings the song.  Perhaps I was just in a particularly bitchy mood or perhaps I've always felt this way and I've never really pondered the lyrics of a KISS song for very long (they aren't known for deep & meaningful lyricism), but this song PISSED ME OFF.  Big time!

Do you know the song?  Have you heard it?  Have you actually listened to the lyrics?  Just in case, here they are:

"Beth, I hear you callin'
But I can't come home right now
Me and the boys are playin'
And we just can't find the sound

Just a few more hours
And I'll be right home to you
I think I hear them callin'
Oh, Beth what can I do
Beth what can I do

You say you feel so empty
That our house just ain't a home
And I'm always somewhere else
And you're always there alone

Just a few more hours
And I'll be right home to you
I think I hear them callin'
Oh, Beth what can I do
Beth what can I do

Beth, I know you're lonely
And I hope you'll be alright
'Cause me and the boys will be playin'
All night"

The part that inflamed me was where he acknowledges that she feels neglected and wants him home with her, but he just doesn't know what to do and he'll be playing all night with the boys instead.  It's a fairly romantic sounding ballad so I was like "Wait.  What?!"  He is willfully choosing to ignore his woman and spend his time with the guys?  Oh yeah, that's some real freaking romance right there!

What a whiny little assh*le!  He doesn't know what to do?  How about you just be a friggin' man and tell "the boys" that your woman wants/needs you home!  I'm sure that fellas reading this will be like :::thumbs up::: and I can understand needing personal space, but I have to call it like I see it.  No wonder Peter Criss wore the cat makeup in the group - he's a big p*ssy!  D*ck!

* * *

You know, I had a nerve-wracking experience this morning and I thought for sure I'd write about that. . .I certainly didn't expect to grind my axe against a largely forgotten drummer from a 70s mega-band!  Anyway, below is a youtube clip of the song that's kinda fun.  Enjoy!

That Filthy Pig was Delicious

It seems that no one is ambivalent toward pork.  The world could easily be divided into groups who will eat Babe, Wilbur, & Arnold Ziffle and those who will not touch the filthy swine - hehe.  Longtime readers of this blog know in which camp I belong.

I ordinarily do not consume pork in general or ham and bacon in particular.  I find it totally disgusting and not worthy of satisfying my hunger.  Ham and bacon creep me out because they are salty and pink and I'm sure they taste like human flesh.

My meat preferences are well known, but my husband's family appears to be obsessed with eating pigs.  Seriously, I can count on pork being the main dish at most of his family's get togethers.  They appear to like pork so much that they even served ham at Thanksgiving once - HAM AT THANKSGIVING?!  GAH!!  I'm a big girl and I just make sure that I'm not starving when I know that pork will be served.

I accepted a token piece of ham on Easter and somehow choked it down without slathering it in mustard.  It was as predictably horrible as ham usually is to me.  How things changed within a few days!  I had some leftover sticky rice and I added some diced leftover ham.  Holy moly, that was tasty and it tickled my tastebuds so much that I want to make it again.

Family and close friends of mine probably know what this admission means, but I kinda regret not buying a ham prior to Easter because it would be soooo good paired with the rice and soy sauce.  Of course, my crock pots are packed away so I'd have no way to cook it, but anyway.

Hooray for Hormones!

I've been using the progesterone suppositories since the 17th and I spotted during much of the first week I used them.  Things were significantly better down below on last Saturday and I was fairly certain that I'd found the best way to insert them while sparing my cervix any further irritation.  I was confident that the spotting was a thing of the past.

So much for confidence. 

Last Sunday I was instructed to begin using two suppositories each day, approximately twelve-hours apart.  So I use one in the evening before bed and one mid-morning.  That may not seem like a big deal, but I have to lie down for an hour after insertion to let the suppository melt (it feels as gross as it sounds) and get as much of the hormone hitting my bloodstream as possible.  It's not pleasant to have a three-year old running wild because he knows I can't get up to take control, but it's manageable because Mother-of-the-Year over here has been plying him with gummy snacks, milk, his favorite TV show, and anything else to get him to settle down while I have to lie down.

It also sucks that I'm beginning to feel a bit raw downstairs.  I keep these babies in the fridge, but I swear that they burn wherever they end up melting.  My vadge is only so big and I've run out of places to stick these things so I'm forced to feel this mess melting all over tissue that is already feeling impossibly sensitive.  Put simply, sometimes it hurts.  Again, that's not the worst and it's manageable.

By far, the biggest problem is that my spotting has returned with a vengeance on the two suppositories per day regimen.  My heart drops every single time that I notice the slightest amount of pink on my toilet tissue - and sometimes it sure looks like a lot, though it probably looks like more than it is because it's mixed with the waxy suppository remnants.  Then I remember that this is "normal" and I try to calm down while thinking positive thoughts and/or whispering fervent prayers. 

I can think of nothing that freaks me out more at this moment than bleeding of any sort coming from my ladyparts.  I spot every morning and after every BM, begin spotting orange most afternoons, and usually taper off to nothing by the evening so I can insert the bedtime dose and start all over again the next morning.  Hooray for hormones!

I realize that it sounds like I'm complaining and I'm really not.  I think it's interesting and I'm sharing in the hopes that this is helpful information for at least some of you who are reading.  I welcome using these for many weeks to come and I rejoice that I have the opportunity to use them at this dosage at all.  The spotting is upsetting because the obvious implication, but I am still so thankful.  That's really the most important thing to get across:  I am so thankful.

Favorite Funny Websites

Another loooong day means that I can barely keep my eyes open.  I'm trying really hard to stay awake so that I can watch the season premiere of South Park, but I'm pretty sure that I'll be snoozing long before the opening song begins.  Since I'm thinking things that I find funny, I thought I'd quickly share my favorite funny websites. 

One site that I check every day is fark.com and it is HILARIOUS.  It's a news aggregator and the "headlines" are submitted by the readers. . .also known as "farkers."  The headlines are great, but the comment section is often chock-full of comedy gold.  I can always count on Fark to crack me up.

Speaking of cracking up. . .cracked.com is another one of my favorites.  I frequently check this site and often share the fun articles with my hubs or on my FB wall.  Their articles somewhat irritate me because I hate having to click to read the second page, but I almost always get a chuckle when I visit this site.

My latest favorite funny site is awkwardfamilyphotos.com and some of those pictures leave me with tears streaming down my cheeks.  I truly hope that I never find one of my family's photos on that site.  Of course, the chances are slim because we don't pose in front of phallic rocks, wear peculiar garb, or otherwise do goofy things in photos.  What isn't captured on film is an entirely different matter. 

What An Exhausting Day

It's been a long time since I've done this, but I am just too exhausted to even write a post today.  It doesn't seem like I did much today, but I attended a playdate, witnessed my toddler's lunchtime mega-tantrum (seriously, it was epic), and had a naptime that was frustrated a few times before I just gave up on getting any rest this afternoon.  I headed off my son's inevitable dinnertime tantrum when he discovered that I wasn't up to take him to Chuck E. Cheese's by telling him that we'd visit his Grandma & Grandpa.  That was awesome and it was fun, but we stayed late and now I'm totally beat.  Besides, it's time for me to deal with my prog suppos so I have to go to lie down in bed anyway.

Joy + Fear = ?

Have you ever really wanted to say something (shout it from the rooftops, really), but were afraid to do so because you don't want to jinx it somehow?  I'm in that spot at the moment.  I know exactly what I want to write, but I'm afraid to be bold.

I tried to come up with another topic to blog about, but this one is all I can think about at the moment.  I find it interesting that my joy and my fear are woven together in such a perfectly seamless tapestry of emotion.  I can't feel one emotion without the other and that's frustrating to me.  I want to only know the joy, but experience has taught me to know the fear as well.

Until I find the courage, the strength, to say what I want, know that there's something brewing over here.  Something big, something special, something marvelously wonderful.  Something I just can't bring myself to write about at this moment.

With God, All Things Are Possible

Easter marks the twelve-month point in what has been undoubtedly the toughest year that I've ever experienced.  I woke early this morning, around 4:00 am, and wasn't able to return to sleep.  I've been pondering the last twelve-months and marveling at God's love and mercy. . .entirely appropriate for the day that my Lord was risen.

What a difference a year makes.  I reviewed my blog posts from a year ago to refresh my memory on where things were when things began to go so horribly wrong.  With God's amazing love, restoration was possible.

If you've read this blog for the last year, you already know the complete and utter heartbreak that has befallen my family and I don't care to rehash the dark days surrounding the death of my brother or my baby.  I commented to my husband the other day that it's nothing short of a miracle that the last six months haven't resulted in me experiencing a nervous breakdown.  Knowing my own natural propensity toward simple melancholy and outright depression, I fully believe that supplication and intercessory prayer is what kept me together; God's love and mercy is what kept my family from suffering any further.

I've learned that God has further worked to heal another hurt in my heart. . .one that I don't care to discuss at this moment.  I have so much that I really want to say, but I'm uncharacteristically going to hold my tongue.  Instead I'll leave you with a simple:

Happy Easter. . .He is Risen.

ORANGE?!

Here a spot, there a spot, everywhere a spot, spot.

Care to guess what color spotting I've been sporting?  The title says it all. . .ORANGE!  Freaking ORANGE?!  Yes, orange.

Sounds like I've got a big friggin' problem right?  Wrong.  Orange spotting is not unheard of when using progesterone suppositories.  Naturally!  I'm almost afraid to investigate what other side effects are normal when using these prog suppos.  Of course, I'm on Day 22 of my cycle so I'm thrilled with one side effect - delaying menses.

In related news, I didn't really spot much at all today so I feel happy about that.  In my research, I've discovered that inserting the suppository too deep can aggravate the cervix which leads to - you guessed it - spotting and sometimes cramping.  So I inserted last night's suppository barely beyond my vaginal opening, I squeezed those muscles good & tight, washed my hands, then hopped in the bed.  I had a little spotting this morning, but no cramping at all today so I think I've discovered a workable (if slightly more messy) solution.

What a Cool Kid!

Sometimes I pinch myself because I can't believe that I have such a wonderful son!  I love that little guy so much and I think he's so darn cool.  Here's the latest & greatest on my sweet boy:

~ I told him we were going to visit a friend and her son and he replied that he liked her.  I responded that I know he does.  Then he asserted, "I love her.  She's a nice lady."

~ He gets very excited on "school" days because he loves his teachers.  He chatters on about both of them and usually claims to love them.  Of course, he gets really shy when either of them are around and he'll hardly say a word.  He does, however, stare at them from afar. . .I think he's experiencing his first crush.

~ He lit up when I told him that we were going to visit one of his friends.  I asked if he was happy to see his friend and he said that he was and added that, "(child's name) my best friend."

~ He ran out of his room at nearly ten o'clock last night.  His latest bedtime stall tactic is to request socks so I asked him if he wanted his socks.  He said, "No.  I want PASTA!"  This is the same child who just three hours earlier made it very clear that he would not eat pasta that night.  I gave him socks and put him back to bed.

~ We were driving home yesterday evening and "Another Brick in the Wall - Part 2" came on the radio.  He said, "Pink Floyd."  I'm not really a fan so I blamed my husband.  Hubs claims that they've never listened to Pink Floyd together.  So how did the kiddo know who it was??

~ He was watching a program that he likes and the protagonist played three keys on the piano.  My son hummed the notes.  This might not be cool to anyone else, but I thought it showed a remarkable attention to detail and a good ear.

~ He flipped his fork and spoon over and began hitting the table, his plate, his placemat, and his cup.  I asked him what he thought he was doing and he replied, "I'm a drummer, Mama."  I let him know that we don't play drums at the table, but inside I thought his drum kit was pretty inventive.

Relax? Yeah, Right!

~ My husband said we'd be out of our house by last weekend.  I have been busting my hump to get us out of this house by this weekend.  I've even got things that I use on a weekly (not daily) basis all packed up and out.  This took a crazy amount of effort on my part.

~ Now we are not going to totally vacate the house prior to selling it.  WHAT?!  So the plan has changed, okay.  That's fine, but if you know my husband, our son, or our dog, you'll completely understand why I'm freaking out at the prospect of keeping the house clean, in order, and "show-ready" until it sells.  Not to mention that I've already packed up things that I use fairly frequently because we weren't going to be staying here!

~ I'm in the process of explaining how to coordinate completely loading the portable storage thing as full as possible, getting it picked up and off our driveway, getting the driveway guys to fix our driveway (will take a week), getting everything that's left in the house in the garage, getting a place to stay temporarily while the outside and inside of the house is painted (this will also take about a week).  And tree trimming fits in there somewhere.

~ In the last seven weeks, I've experienced more days with blood flowing out of my body than I have had days without.  It's not like hormonal imbalances wreak havoc with your emotions, right?  Ha!  In a word, it's stressful and exhausting.  Well, I guess that's two words, but you know what I mean. 

~ My progesterone suppositories are definitely causing my body to experience symptoms very similar to early pregnancy.  Plus I get the benefit of spotting all the time - except the spotting stops when I rest.  Rest?  Yeah, when exactly can I do that?  I'd love to crawl into a wine bottle at night, but I'm not 100% certain that I'm not pregnant because I still haven't had a period yet.  And I feel dangerously close to spending another two hours crying today because:

~ I just discovered this morning that my husband will be working - again - tonight.  Indeed, he will be working three evenings per week for the next three weeks.  I guess six days and two evenings per week just wasn't enough time for me as a single parent.  If you know my high-energy son, you know why this is so distressing to me.  Put simply, I NEED the break that I can kinda get when my husband is around.

~ I'd finally got back in the swing of things, socializing and having fun with friends, and I necessarily had to pull back and get this stuff done at the house.  Except I guess it wasn't so necessary after all.  At least, it wasn't nearly as urgent.  Now I feel frustrated, angry, and isolated.

And people wonder why I can't relax.  I'm tempted to disappear on vacation for a couple of weeks.  The only problem with that is I'm pretty sure all work will stop until I return so there would be no point in getting away only to deal with the same bullsh*t when I return.

Spotting vs. Period Bleeding

I have new symptoms that I'm pretty sure I can blame on the progesterone:  sore nipples and three separate 2-hour crying jags.  Perhaps I'm incredibly naive, but I did not expect so many side effects to show up so quickly.  I mean, I've only used three flipping suppositories!  I don't even want to imagine how screwed up I'll be feeling when my progesterone levels are good & high. 

But this post isn't about my boo-hooing or my need to shelter my boobies from the assault of my shower's water pressure - it felt like knives were stabbing my nipples - no, I think I'd like to explore the difference between spotting and menstrual bleeding.  I really am obsessed with my vadge and the fluids that come from it, right?  I know, gross, but I can't possibly be the only woman who has wondered if she's only spotting or having an actual period.

I've wondered a few times if I should discontinue using the progesterone suppositories because I've been experiencing intermittent spotting since Monday.  I was instructed to stop using them if menses occurs.  Well, I know that spotting isn't the same thing as your period so I'm still using them.

Then I began to wonder what the difference is between spotting and period bleeding.  Yeah, yeah, I know that I overthink everything.  Here is my admittedly non-medical professional thoughts on the matter:  spotting is lighter than a "normal" period, it doesn't require a pad/tampon/cup, it's pink or brownish bleeding, it doesn't have any big clots, and it may only be discovered while wiping after using the toilet.

Now, I'm not a doctor (I don't even play one on TV) so I could be totally off-base with my assessment of what I have been experiencing for the last few days.  It's a shot in the dark, but does anyone have an opinion or special knowledge on the matter? 

As the Womb Turns

Although I'm supposed to discontinue using the progesterone suppositories if menses occurs, I used one last night.  Why?  Well, because now I'm not so sure that my period actually started yesterday.  I began spotting around 11:00 am and had light crampy pains & a backache much of the day.  Of course, the backache was undoubtedly from packing and moving an entire house in 2 1/2 weeks!  But the spotting stopped suddenly by around 4:00 pm and never started again.  I woke this morning with the slightest hint of pink on my toilet tissue and it's already stopped.

Soooo. . .what now?  I'm not prone to spotting and I NEVER do it, but I think I am.  Seriously, my period normally leaves it looking like someone was hacked to death between my legs and what I experienced yesterday was so mild that it never required more than just a liner.  Actually, I suppose it didn't require a liner at all since I only noticed the spotting on my toilet tissue after using the restroom. 

Now I'm thoroughly confused and I'm not sure what to do or how to track this anomaly in my cycle.  Am I on Day 18 of this cycle or Day 2 of a new cycle?  Am I just enjoying the calm before the storm?  Is my body simply gearing up for the big event?

I started wondering, hoping really, when I noticed that the spotting had stopped yesterday.  Is it possible. . .?  Could it be. . .?  Dare I hope that these pains and this spotting and the accompanying pain might be related to implantation? 

Might I be pregnant?  Or is it just a precursor to another ride on the Red Rapids?  Did I spend hours packing while bawling my eyes out for no reason or am I getting my hopes up for an equal lack of reason?

I have experienced implantation bleeding with two pregnancies (my son and the one last year), but it wasn't pink and didn't come with any cramping so I'm not very encouraged on that front.  I'm doubly trying not to get too excited because progesterone does tend to delay your period.  Thanks to the internet, I've learned that it also can also cause spotting and cramping until you stop taking it.  So, even if I am pregnant - and I'm certainly not feeling it at the moment, I may have this symptom throughout my first trimester.  That's just great because you know I wouldn't freak out or obsess about spotting or cramping while pregnant, right?  Ugh.

Stay tuned for the next installment of As the Womb Turns. . .

You Gotta Be Kidding Me!!

Guess who started spotting today in the middle of packing and wrangling a toddler who wants to play with every single thing being packed?  It's official:  My body freaking sucks!  Dammit!

Why?  Just why?  Why is this happening?

I'm only on Day 17 of my cycle and I stared at the toilet tissue for the longest moment, not wanting to believe what my own eyes could see.  And that's when the meltdown started.  It's still going on, but I'm hopeful that I'll stop my boo-hooing and get myself together in short order.

With everything else that I'm dealing with at the moment, why my period too?  And, if I have to have my stupid period, why did it have to come with cramps too?  So much for putting my hopes on the progesterone.

Boo-freaking-hoo. . .this is my FOURTH period since February 26.  Four friggin' periods in only seven stupid weeks.  Un-freaking-believable.

Progesterone, Periods, and Packing

I started using the progesterone suppositories last night and I'm thinking that it wasn't a moment too soon.  Though I was only on Day 16 of my cycle, I experienced slight cramping and a few twinges that I suspect were going to herald the arrival of my next period.  Really?!  Yeah, really.  I think it's beyond lame that my body is so out to get me by trying to put me on a nearly perpetual period. . .it's not like I don't have any other stress, right?

How was it using a vaginal suppository?  Uh, pretty much what I expected.  I decided to use it just before hopping into bed for the evening.  The waxy/greasy bullet was easy enough to slip on up there, but I could feel it melting within a minute.  Yeah, man, that's a gross feeling.  I stayed in bed all night long even though I really needed to pee around 3:00 am.  Why not just go urinate?  Because I could feel this puddle of waxy gunk up in my hoo-haw and I didn't want to deal with the mess. 

I ultimately woke at 7:00 am and the nasty remnants of the suppository flooded my britches as I sat up in bed.  What a glorious way to start the day!  I'm just thankful that I not only had on underpants, but that I put a liner in place last night before bed.  Nonetheless, those panties were totally wrecked so I'm guessing it's going to be granny panties for me until I stop using the suppositories.

In other news, I plan to spend today packing up all but the bare essentials that we need for daily living.  Then I plan to start storing our stuff.  My hubs works until 10:00 pm tonight so it's all on you-know-who to get this show on the road.  I'm burning daylight so it's off to work I go!

We Missed the Deadline

My husband said that we'd be out of our house this weekend.  I'm writing this on my laptop in our living room, so it's pretty obvious that we are still here.  Not only are we not out of the house, but I'm not even totally finished packing yet.  I've almost finished, but I still have a couple of closets and our kitchen "basics" left before I'm complete.  Then I can start storing our stuff.  I'm confident that I'll have us out of the house within the week.

Where will we be living at that point?  Good question!  I'm hopeful that I can get most of our stuff moved out in the beginning of the week so I can focus on finding us temporary digs to settle in at by next weekend.

I know this is going to sound horrible, but I'm glad that I'm not doing this by myself while six-months pregnant and wrangling my toddler.  I'm not happy that I lost my baby, far from it, but I suppose that everything really does happen for a reason.

Do I Look Six-Months Pregnant?

I'm bummed out that my camera is currently buried under 10,000 boxes because I'd love to post a selfie and ask your opinion on the title question.

Last night, my husband and I were looking for houses while aimlessly driving around a few neighborhoods that we like (apparently my stalker tendencies are rubbing off on him!) and we ran into someone we know.  We exchanged pleasantries and then the conversation turned to our families.  She chatted with our son for a moment, then looked at me and said, "And your little baby is coming in August, right?"

Uh. . .not anymore.  My mouth dropped and I couldn't even find words to say.  I guess I figured that everyone we know knew what happened in January.  My husband quickly and quietly let her know that our baby died.  She was apologetic and gave me kind words of encouragement about trust and faith. 

I can understand that she didn't know I lost my baby, but I'm mystified how she could think that I look like I'm six-months pregnant.  Sure, I am around 25 pounds away from my goal weight, but I've lost a TON of weight (almost forty pounds) since I'd seen her last.  I suppose it's time that I get my lazy butt in gear and take off the remaining weight!

So to those of you who know me. . .I can handle the truth and my feelings won't be hurt by honesty:  Do I look pregnant?  Not just pregnant, but six-months pregnant??

Up Next - An Ear Horn!

I detailed my disgust with my lousy eyesight around two months ago in this post.  I'm barreling toward middle age and it's about time that I face that fact.  Vanity is great and all, but there reaches a point where it's just more important to see than it is to pathetically cling to the last remaining shreds of early adulthood. 

I reached that point tonight.  I finally bought readers this evening and I'm amazed at how much I already love them!  It seems that my memory is also suffering from my rapidly advancing age because I'd quite forgotten just how much I enjoy being able to read anything even remotely resembling fine print.

I find that I often can't hear what my husband says when he's in the living room and I'm in the kitchen so this begs the following question:  Is an ear horn next?

Liquor for Little Ones??

It's come to my attention that a couple of chain-restaurants have accidentally served alcohol to children.  It would be one thing if eight-year olds are bellying up to the bar to order a tequila sunrise with a phony ID.  I'm guessing that everyone would agree that the establishment would have to feel the hammer if they served booze to obviously under-aged patrons.

However, that's not the case in these situations.  No, that's not the case at all.  It's that the restaurant is putting liquor in kiddy cups and bringing it to the family's table.

I've read all kinds of parental outrage over the incidents.  My first impulse is to say that I can't blame them.  As a parent, I'd be pretty outraged if my son was served an appletini instead of apple juice.  As is frequently the case, it's not so simple as that.

I've read of parents who want to fire the employees, fine the restaurants, take away liquor licenses, close down the restaurants, lock up responsible parties, and so on.  That's where I draw the line on outrage. 

Food service is often a busy and hectic industry.  Servers, cooks, and bartenders hustle so that they can get sit-down patrons served in only a slightly longer time than it would take to go to a drive-thru.  Why?  Because that's what most diners appear to want - particularly diners with children!  What happens if they take too long to get our orders out to us?  We negatively impact their income by deducting from their tip!  So instead of 20 to 25%, they'll only get 15 to 18%.  Why?  Because we wanted our kid to get their cup of juice in less than two minutes rather than five. 

What happens when people rush through tasks?  Mistakes are inevitably made. 

What would happen if the authorities lay the hammer on these businesses?  People would most likely lose their jobs (and not necessarily those who made the mistake), the restaurant may lose business or close down altogether. . .leading to more people losing their jobs and their families will most definitely feel the impact.  I can understand that parents are upset that their child was served liquor, but negatively impacting their local economy and other local families isn't going to fix anything.  It's not going to turn back time and make sure that their little one was served juice.  It's not going to do anything positive at all and, unless money is the motivator (and it probably is), I don't get why they'd be raising such a stink that it's in the news in the first place.

Think about it. . .do you think a child chug-a-lugged a sippy cup of booze?  Probably not.  I'm guessing they took a sip, complained about the funny taste, and the error was discovered.  Yes, I'd be plenty angry if it were my kid, but the damage was minimal - if there was any at all.  How hard is it to point out the mistake and reorder some juice for the kid?  Why is it necessary to go bonkers and take it to the media?  Again, I'm fairly certain that money is the motivator since these are chain restaurants with what I'll assume are reasonably deep pockets to pay off patrons who persist in acting all butthurt over an accident.

On to the more pressing issue here. . .why do restaurants never accidentally serve me liquor??

The Urge + The Surge = Aw, Yeah!

My son woke me twice in the early morning; once at 3:00 am and again at 4:00 am.  I hardly woke up the first time he came to our room, but his whining and wailing jolted me awake an hour later.  What was the problem?  I have no idea and I was beyond irritated when he wouldn't go back to bed.  Naturally, he went right to sleep when Daddy tucked him back in bed.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to sleep again from that point on.  There's not much to do at that time of day and I considered going to the gym.  Seriously, I did consider it. 

I quickly dismissed gym-bound ideas in favor of sexy thoughts.  Sure, sex isn't all that good of a workout, but at least you get immediate results for your effort!  However, I was distracted away from my mental porn by thinking about my cervix.

I blogged about my cervical adventure last night and I still find the thing pretty fascinating.  I was curious if it felt differently this morning so I popped in to check it out.  Whoa!  I am so glad that I did!

Remember when I mentioned that the cervix changes around ovulation?  I felt those changes this morning.  Crazy, right?  It was totally different less than twelve hours earlier!

This morning it was higher and softer.  The dimple somehow felt deeper, but I couldn't really tell as the cervix itself was so much higher than it was just last night and it wasn't as easy to reach.  I think it also felt wetter (for lack of better term), but wasn't sure if that could be traced to my earlier thoughts about sex.  Yeah, I probably should have checked my cervix before letting my mind run wild.

After making this cervical discovery, I jumped up and ran to the bathroom to pee on an ovulation predictor stick.  Sure enough, I was experiencing the LH surge that I've been waiting for the last several days.  Yes! 

So now I have a date that I can begin to take the progesterone and, if nothing else, hopefully that will help extend my luteal phase so I won't be back on my period in less than ten days.  Ideally, of course, the progesterone will help support a pregnancy if I conceive.  I'll be thankful for the former, but I'd prefer the latter!

Following that train of thought, I wondered if I should hit up hubs for a roll in ze hay (someone's been watching Young Frankenstein!) right then or if I should wait until this evening.  I know that my "egg-whites" will be showing up shortly - probably within 12- to 24-hours.  Feeling unsure if the timing was right, I inspected my cervical fluid at length and I'm still not positive that it was stretchy and slippery enough for my husband's swimmers to make it where they need to go.  It stretched around 1.5" between my fingers. . .certainly stretchy, but nowhere near as stretchy as I've seen it before.  I kept digging around, wondering if my fluid was good enough and finally decided to stop overthinking everything so I made up my mind. 

I went for it.

Am I presenting fertile cervical fluid?  Sort of.  Would it have been better to wait until this evening?  Probably.  So why did I go for it anyway?  Well, because sex can lead to children, but it's supposed to be enjoyable just for the sake of having it too.  I was uncharacteristically horny at a very early hour (night owls paired with early birds quickly learn the joys of afternoon delight!) and wanted my husband.  Put simply, I wasn't going to let the lowered chance of conception stop me from enjoying him.

I sure that anyone who has been trying to achieve pregnancy can agree that trying for a baby is fun and exciting for a limited amount of cycles.  I found that it became disheartening after around a year of trying.  That's not to say that sex is no longer fun or exciting after that point, it's just that you become very aware of when you should do it and it paints the act with a special sense of urgency and pressure.  That urgency and pressure creates stress and stress can unfortunately kill your sexual desire.

Don't I want a baby?  Well, yeah!  But I wanted him more this morning and I thought that nurturing our relationship was far more important than worrying about expanding our family.

How's Your Cervix Hangin'?

Yeah, my fingers have been getting acquainted with my cervix this evening.  It's 9:30 at night; do you know where your cervix is?  I know where mine is and I know far more about it now that I ever hoped to know!

Why am I manually inspecting my cervix?  Why else?  It's a fertility thing.

If you've read my blog lately, you're probably aware that cervical fluid changes in a fairly predictable pattern throughout your cycle.  Did you know that your cervical position changes as well?  No?  Well, now you know!

I realize that the ladies are cringing at the notion of voluntarily poking around the cervix and, yes, it's not exactly a pleasant sensation.  Surely we've all experienced the unexpected jolt of pain while in the middle of enjoying a particularly vigorous romp in the sack?  Ah, nothing like the unmistakable feeling of a d*ck slamming into a brick wall. . .a brick wall which is actually a sensitive part of your body!  The upside to checking it myself is that I could be as gentle as necessary, but the downside is that even a light touch is somewhat uncomfortable.

I've been reluctant to check my cervical position because, well, I was afraid.  Of what?  I don't know. . .it's not like the Cervix Monster lurks within.  I just found the idea distasteful because it's so clinical.  I mean, this is one of the things that the doctor does during a pelvic exam and it's unsexy, awkward, and uncomfortable all the way around.  Also, I swear that sometimes their fingers ended up in my friggin' tonsils!  Geez, is it really necessary for them to go so deep?!

So what did I discover? 

Well, my cervix presents absolute proof that I've never vaginally delivered a child.  I must confess that I found my cute little cervical dimple to be irresistible to touch!  It was sooo clearly the opening and the rest of it is sooo definitely rounded.  Plus, the flesh itself is remarkably different than my vaginal walls.  I was pretty fascinated once I got up in there and felt around a bit.

I found that it's fairly easy to reach the cervix if you are squatting so deeply that your butt is almost totally down to the floor.  This was such an easier position than the doctor gets at it with; that is, you flat on your back and your legs in stirrups!  Once or twice I've thought that the doctor has gone wrist-deep to get to the damn thing. . .uh, not to be too graphic, but I could feel it with just my middle finger and no real digging around was necessary.

I realize that it sounds like I spent an hour fishing around up my love canal, but it only took a few seconds to get a feel for it.  Ha - get a feel for it!  I haven't been checking my cervical position so I can't say if I'll find it helpful in determining when I'm most fertile, but at least I'm not afraid of it and I'm very curious to discover how it changes as I get closer to ovulation. 

Of course, now that I'm ready to hit the progesterone suppositories five days after my LH surge, it would be my crappy luck to have this be an anovulatory cycle.  That is a cycle in which you do not ovulate; totally unfair, right?  If that's the case, I suppose I should get over my aversion to charting and start taking temps on the next cycle so I'll have all three bases loaded when it comes to tracking my fertility signs:  BBT, cervical fluid (+ OPK), and cervical position.

Do you check your cervix as one of the primary signs of fertility?  Any tips, advice, or funny stories to share?

When Do You Quit?

I'm forced to maintain some anonymity here, but understand that I am not talking about my relationship with my husband.

Have you ever been in a relationship in which you can't trust the other person?  I like honesty and it's aggravating when others aren't truthful with me because I'd rather not wonder if I can take what someone says at face value.  I kinda feel like I shouldn't bother trying if I can't rely on them or believe in them.

At what point do you simply throw up your arms in frustration and give up on having a relationship with someone? 

Funny Search Phrases

This site (Blogger) allows the blogger to check many different stats.  I frequently raise my eyebrows or get a chuckle out of the Google search phrases/words that drive people to this blog.  Here's a baker's dozen of  my latest faves (in no particular order) and the posts that they directed web traffic toward:

"me so hooooorny"  this blog post
"epiphany vibrator massager"  this blog post
"mosque at ground zero robot chicken" this blog post
"my midlife crisis is killing me" this blog post
"why do thin mints suck now" this blog post
"guitarists chicks dig" this blog post
"blogger has a baby" was a busy day and I couldn't tell which post was found by Google
"dildo sculpture" this blog post
"sapphic love blog" was a busy day and I couldn't tell which post was found by Google
"fuck shopping!" this blog post
"quotes about selfies" this blog post
"jerking off blog" this blog post
"grey pubes pluck out" this blog post

I can see how my blog might show up on a Google search with some of those, but others are leave me thinking, "Uh, what?" 

Do I ever come across as someone who is even remotely interested in sapphic love?  I think it's pretty obvious that I like the c*ck so why did Google grab my blog with that search?  I don't know, but it did and I was read by someone who wanted to know about getting a little chick on chick action.  I'm afraid that I may have disappointed them. . .

I must say that the "dildo sculpture" search left me in stitches.  Who in the world was looking for dildo sculptures?  I know the blog post that showed up and was read, but really - what the heck??  Did they want a sculpture of dildos?  Or were they as retarded as me wanted to molest some sculptures with dildos?  I'm still chuckling over their motivation in doing the search.

The jerking off search made me initially wonder which post would show up and I quickly realized that it was one in which I mocked a commercial about a dumbbell that vibrates.  It totally looks like manual masturbation of a man when you use said piece of exercise equipment.  I had a good laugh about it and I hope that the reader on another continent got my sense of humor.

Anyway, I was amused by the searches that lead readers to my blog and hope that you are as well.

Pondering Progesterone + A Related Rant

Since I secured the script for progesterone suppositories, I've been researching the hormone and I'm shocked at what I've learned in the last few days.  Everyone knows that hormonal imbalances can cause problems and I'm starting to think that I've had lower-than-"average" progesterone for a long time because I have been experiencing half of the symptoms for a few years now.

Symptoms of progesterone deficiency include:
- Frequent menstrual periods, specifically cycles shorter than 24 days.  Geez, I'd be thrilled if I actually had a 24-day cycle because it's usually around 20.
- Heavy menstrual periods.  I've discussed this at length this week and the sheer volume I'm shedding is extremely distressing.
- Mental and physical fatigue.  I kinda chalked this up motherhood, but I have noticed that it is getting worse rather than improving over the last couple of years.
- Headaches & migraine headaches.  I have suffered migraines for years, but it has improved and (knock on wood) I haven't had one in several months.  Regular headaches, on the other hand. . .the week isn't complete unless I have had a few.
- Insomnia.  OMFG!  I CAN NOT SLEEP - EVER!  I have been blaming it on my husband's snoring, but he's always done it and I've had sleep difficulties for around three-years so, yeah, something has changed.
- Depression.  I don't feel that it's fair to peg this on progesterone deficiency because the last twelve-months have brought me to my knees, but perhaps the lower hormone levels has made it more difficult to handle the stress and turmoil.
- Mood swings.  I never thought I had this, but my husband has took me aside to tell me that my temper sometimes lights up so fast that it's almost scary.  Perhaps it's a progesterone thing rather than my childish lack of control?
- Anxiety.  Eh, I've been a nervous wreck since I was a kid.
- Weight gain/inability to lose weight.  I so wish I could blame my current size on low progesterone, but the reality is that I'm just fat & lazy and I eat too much.
- Osteoporosis.  Good grief, I hope I don't have this.
- Increased HDL cholesterol.  I've had cholesterol problems off and on since I was 19-years old so I'm pretty sure this isn't related to hormones.
- Pain & inflammation.  Thankfully, I'm not suffering with this.
- Fibroids.  Again, I'm so thankful to not have this.
- Breast tenderness.  You probably need a little breast flesh for this symptom and I'm woefully under-endowed.
- Gas & indigestion.  I burp a lot, but I think it's the fizzy water.
- Snoring.  Never.  Tooth grinding, however. . .
- Miscarriage.  No f*cking comment. 

Actually, no, I do have a comment on that last "symptom."  More of a rant, I suppose.

I am furious to think that my baby may have died because my regular MD was so dismissive of my concerns about progesterone back in late-September.  I conceived shortly thereafter and didn't pursue it because I didn't know that low progesterone levels can result in miscarriage.  Why didn't I know that?  Because I'm not the f*cking doctor!!

My husband, realizing that I'm obsessing over this not-so-little detail, keeps reminding me that he's just a doctor rather than a specialist so perhaps he didn't know either.  I think that's a piss-poor excuse because he knew that I'd been trying to have a baby for a loooong freaking time and he knew enough about fertility to mention that I was considered infertile at that point because I had been trying to conceive for well over a year.  He knew I was having trouble and he didn't even bother to investigate any further to help his patient.  I was still shell-shocked over the death of my brother only a few weeks earlier and I didn't have the energy to push for answers and help. . .I so regret now that I didn't fight for myself because, had I done so, perhaps I'd be in my second trimester right this moment.

If he somehow didn't know that low progesterone can result in problems like infertility and miscarriage, then he still should have done something besides just dismiss my concerns.  He could have said that he didn't know enough about my levels to make any diagnosis or recommendation.  And how could he know anything since he didn't even send me for any damn testing?  Even better, he could have just referred me to gynecology from the start.

Had there been any testing performed or any indication that my levels were low (besides experiencing more than half the freaking list of  progesterone deficiency symptoms!), the progesterone suppositories could have been started back then and my baby may not have died.  That knowledge makes me sick with anger.  My poor baby probably didn't have a chance!

And this leads me to the rest of my rant. . .

Why does the medical community ignore miscarriage and treat it like no big deal until a woman experiences at least two or three losses?  Especially galling is that they have the same response (lack of response, really) even if you're in your mid-30s and have been experiencing fertility difficulties.  A woman's fertility starts diminishing in her late 20s and it really gets tricky to conceive once she's closer to 40.  I tried for over 1 1/2-years to get pregnant (it's two years this month) and it just seems like it would have been prudent to monitor my progesterone levels since I was already over 35-years of age and it had already been such a long time trying to conceive.  I can't help but wonder how long it will take to conceive again.  (please, please, please let it be on this cycle!)

Testing progesterone levels is a simple blood stick.  Why wouldn't they routinely test a woman's progesterone levels after her first miscarriage?  Hell, since progesterone levels can be low ten to fifteen years before menopause, why wouldn't they routinely test any woman in her 30s who is experiencing menstrual difficulties?

I have so much to say about this, but thinking about it just makes me feel more angry and more heartbroken so I have to stop writing for my own sanity.  I just think it's complete and total bullsh*t that miscarriages are ignored until a woman has lost at least two babies. . .at least two heartbeats silenced.  It's so ridiculously unfair and it's just not right.

Bitter Old B*tches

My husband is just shy of twenty-years older than me.  That might seem weird to some (and society in general), but we get along very well and it's really not an issue with us.  I asked him once why he was interested in dating me instead of someone his own age and he replied that most of the women over 40-years of age were bitter old b*ches.  I thought that was a rather harsh assessment, but nodded and filed that information away in my brain's filing system.

He may have been correct!

I can't count the number of times that we've been out to dinner or out with our son and some menopausal old bag is glaring daggers in our direction.  I'll ask him if he knows the witch in question and he inevitably does not.  So he does not know this woman and she feels the need to be so up in our business that she can feel offended by our very relationship?  What a bitter old b*tch!

Seriously, what gets up in some women's twats that they get so pissy and b*tchy as they age?  Sure young women aren't exempt from the bitchiness, but they don't have the stink of bitterness on them and that bitterness is so unappealing and unattractive.  And, damn, some woman are just bitter old b*tches!

My hubs and I were at the grocery store last night.  I spotted a woman who looked remarkably like his ex-wife (well, as she looked when I saw her last - around five years ago or so) as we walked in and I mentioned it as I was feeling up the produce.  I say feeling up because he asked if I was planning to mouth the zucchini that I was inspecting prior to bagging it.  Whatever - some of us don't want to purchase sub-par produce and we thoroughly inspect every single vegetable and fruit that we purchase.  (I note that this could be the reason why the produce boys pop boners whenever I show up in their department!  haha)

Anyway, I said that I thought I'd seen his ex-wife.  He replied that I must have been mistaken because we don't exactly live around the corner from her and her husband.  I laughed and agreed that it would have been hella weird if it had been his ex-wife since we were so far from where they live.  That's pretty much it. 

I didn't talk any sh*t.  I didn't carry on about me being twenty-years younger than her.  I didn't say that I stole my husband from his first wife (I did not, by the way!)  I really don't have anything negative to say about her at all because she was somewhat hospitable toward me when we visited her home (it was a weird visit to make, BTW) and her mother is simply delightful!  Actually, I rather like my husband's former mother-in-law and my son likes her very much too!  We really are a weird family, right?

And this was it.  I wasn't an arrogant younger woman, lording her youth over an older woman.  I wasn't being a jerk.  I wasn't doing or saying anything that I'd be ashamed to say in front of my entire church congregation.

But for some reason, for some freaking bullsh*t reason, a woman gave me the stink eye over this convo. . .this convo that she was eavesdropping on.  I didn't realize at first that this cow was glaring daggers at us, but I did eventually become aware that the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up so I turned around.  I turned around to see a middle-aged (not middle aged like me, but like really middle aged) old bag with her eyes narrowed to slits and pointed in my direction.  She looked at hubs, looked at me, noted our son, and huffed off with her sack of walnuts. 

Whiskey.  Tango.  Foxtrot.

Seriously.  What the f*ck was her problem?  We are a happy family and I'm guessing that our happiness is evident even to strangers.  Who in the heck would have a problem with a happy family? 

Bitter old b*tches, I guess.

My husband told me that it's to be expected. . .that women of a certain age don't like or trust me because I'm obviously okay with mating with men of a certain age and that makes them (the women) feel insecure.  Add in that men of a certain age find me irresistible and I'm in a real pickle. 

You know what?  I call bullsh*t on the entire situation!  F*ck them if they have a problem because it's not my f*cking problem!

I am not a homewrecker.  I would have never, never, never broke up a marriage.  My husband's ex-wife left nearly ten years before I showed up on the scene.  Get that?  He was unmarried for nearly a decade before I came along to light up his life. 

Nonetheless, how dare this old bag judge me and cast her baleful glare at me?  She doesn't know jack sh*t about our relationship and my guess is that she was projecting.  I didn't sex up her husband - yeah, I'm assuming her hubs left her.  I am not the reason that she is alone and buying sh*tty meals for one in a grocery market.  I am not to blame here. . .and yet she projected all of her negativity toward me and it makes me regard her as a bitter old b*tch.

Hubs tells me that I should calmly walk up to those women (we see & note them fairly frequently) and proclaim all sorts of silliness.  Basically, to give them something to actually get worked up over.  Things like, "He never told me he was married, but I just had to have him so he divorced her for me," or "Your husband never really meant anything to me. . .but this guy (my hubs) made me give up all those middle-aged married men."  My hubs has a sicker sense of humor than me at times and that's really saying something!

I love my husband because he gets me as no other person on the planet can possible understand me; we are truly two peas in a pod - well, three peas now and hopefully four eventually!  Anyone who comes up with some snarky reason behind our relationship can EABOD and DIAF!  Seriously, just F-off!

I know we are May-December. . .but it doesn't matter to us.  Why does it matter to anyone else??

Facebook Brings Unexpected Connections

I found my ex-husband on Facebook.  I feaking found my ex-husband on Facebook!!  I found him and. . .and. . .and I wanted to help him. 

I am a soft touch and, God help me, I still feel for him.  No, I am not in love with him. . . but the love I had for him at one time didn't cease to exist because I no longer wanted to be married to him.  I have regarded him with furious anger to outright indifference for a long time and, over the last several years, I've realized that I want him to have the same happiness that I now experience. 

I don't want anyone to suffer and, when I read of his pain and desperation, I couldn't help but be moved.  I felt his hurt.  I felt his loneliness.  I felt his separation.  I teared up and damn near wept for him and his situation.

And so I reached out to him.

I didn't offer him money or a place to stay or an invitation to get back together.  I offered him hope and encouragement- along with my unsolicited advice.  I thought it was important to tell him that I forgive him and that there is nothing anyone can do that is unforgivable because everything can be forgiven.  He knows this truth, but sometimes we all need the reminder.

I know that I'll regret my kind & loving heart and I kinda feel like a total @sshole for caring at all, but there you go.  I'd rather be the @sshole who is an @sshole for caring too much about people than the @sshole who is the @sshole for not caring at all about others.

Where Did It Go??

Yeah, it's my period mystifying me once again. 

I realize that I'm going to sound like Goldilocks, but where in the world did my period go?  I've been bleeding to death for days (and complaining loudly the entire time), but I woke up this morning to find that my vagina is totally dry.  There is nothing up there!  I know, I know, why am I complaining?  Because I'm a chick and chicks love to bitch about stuff.

Times like this make me glad that I don't wear tampons any longer because removing them when they weren't very wet is such a gross feeling.  I won't even begin to tackle how icky it was when my vadge pulled the damn things apart as I was pulling them out.  Yeah, picking cotton fibers out of her snatch is just what a post-menstrual woman wants to do - bleh!

I should also take this time to add that I absolutely love mama cloth now. . .and I haven't worn pads since I first started getting periods!  Why do I like cloth pads?  Because they are sooo soft and comfy!  Wearing a cloth pad is like wearing your most comfortable pair of undies.  Plus, they don't leak (I was shocked at this - particularly given my flow as of late!) and they don't have any sticky parts to pull on tender areas of my flesh.

Back to the topic at hand, where did my period go?  How can I be soaking through a pad in an hour or two for days on end and have that flow disappear literally overnight?  I give up trying to make any sense out of my menstrual cycle because there is no sense to be made out of it!

In other news, this means that I'll start peeing on the ovulation predictor sticks and I can start taking the progesterone five days after my LH surge.  I'm hopeful that this will help lengthen my cycle and/or aid in supporting pregnancy should I conceive.  This cycle will be my last chance to have a baby carried to term in 2011 so wish us luck!

Big Mouth Strikes Again!

No, this is not a post about that whiny emo wuss Morrissey.

We can all agree that I'm not exactly shy and retiring, right?  As open as I am about many topics, I am always reluctant to contact a physician and let them know about abnormal symptoms that I'm experiencing.  I don't really have a reason other than I don't care for hanging out with the doctor and discussing why my body sucks.  Add in that there is only one profession that I dislike more than physicians and perhaps you'll somewhat understand why I'm not a fan of dicking around with this profession's practitioners.

Okay, fine.  So I don't like doctors and I generally don't trust them.  I don't have to date them, I just need their help every now and again.  Now is one of those times.

I finally contacted my doctor about my craptastic menstrual cycle.  The only reason I finally sought help is because I actually felt lightheaded on several occasions yesterday and I worried about how my son would react if I fainted.  I skipped over my regular MD and went directly to my OB/Gyn because I think my regular doctor was a little too dismissive of my complaints back in late September.  Besides, at a certain point it just makes sense to deal with someone who specializes in that particular area.  I told him that the frequency and quantity of my periods are negatively impacting my life.  I added in that my luteal phase was really short and mentioned that is probably why I've been trying to get pregnant for two years and only have one failed pregnancy to show for my, uh, efforts.

I would have thought that he'd focus on my Red Sea that I'd like to de-part, but instead he GRILLED me on my throwaway comment.  He wanted to know when I ovulate and how I know that I've ovulated.  He wanted to know what methods I used to gather this data and I get the impression that he thought I should be charting temps.  I don't chart temps because it stresses me out to think of my fertility every single day. . .it's stressful enough to think about it only a few times a month!

I replied that I use both ovulation predictor sticks and the consistency of my own cervical fluid as an indicator of my LH surge and my subsequent date of ovulation.  Seeing that in writing makes it seem like such an easy thing to answer, but it took a volley of four e-mails to get that straight between us.  I felt so frustrated at one point that I wanted to respond that I'm not squeamish about slipping my fingers up my snatch and it's not that hard to see if my body is producing juice that is wet & stretchy.  Seriously, it only happens one (two if I'm lucky) days for me now, but it's pretty obvious when it's there.

I'm pretty sure that he was skeptical that I was correctly identifying my ovulation day because he kept going back to wanting to know how I know when I ovulate.  I guess this is a big mystery to most women or something?  I finally got him to understand that I know what I'm talking about and was able to demonstrate that I know how to determine when I've ovulated.  I was tempted to reply that I'm not a dumbass and there's a good chance that a woman has educated herself on female fertility if she's been trying to conceive to two freaking years so gimme a friggin' break, but I held my tongue.  Or my fingers, as it were.

After our exhausting all day long e-mail exchange, he agreed with me that my luteal phase was abnormally short.  I was pained when he also indicated that a too-short luteal phase can result in early miscarriage.  You just know what this makes me wonder about.  In that vein, he told me that things like this ordinarily aren't examined, let alone treated, until a woman has suffered two or more miscarriages.  However, in light of the data I presented, he felt comfortable addressing the problem now.  Ta-da; hooray for being a big mouth who doesn't let things go without a fight!  And who says there's no payoff to obsessively taking notes about your vaginal secretions?

How will my too-short luteal phase be addressed?  With progesterone suppositories.  Uh, say what?  Yeah, they go exactly where you might think they should go.  He said they're messy, but I figure that I can handle messy.  Geez, look at the ridiculous periods I've been having lately. . .yeah, I can definitely handle messy!  And I guess it could be worse; I mean, they could be rectal suppositories.

I'm glad I didn't lose my temper and I'm glad that I continued answering his annoying questions.  As I said last night on Facebook,

"The squeaky wheel gets the grease.
Alternately, the pushy patient gets the progesterone!"

Is It Possible. . .

to bleed to death from your vagina?  If so, I must be halfway there. 

Yep, I'm having yet another period.  I think I'm well on my way to winning the contest for the woman who spends the most days on her period.  This is my third period since February 26 (UGH!) and my frequent blood-loss may be one reason why I feel so exhausted and wiped out all the time.  Okay, okay, I felt that way anyhow, but the frequent periods can't possibly help to improve my energy levels.

I might be able to tolerate the frequency (even though that isn't good for fertility), but the quantity of blood-loss is negatively impacting my life.  I can't use my Diva Cup because there is so much, uh, wetness gushing around up there that I can't get it to form a seal.  So I've been forced to use pads. 

How many pads do I use?  I soak through a heavy-duty postpartum pad within an hour if I'm moving around or I can maybe go for two hours if I'm just sitting still.  And it's not just the ridiculously heavy flow that's bothersome, but the clots are starting to freak me the heck out.  They aren't like the size of golf balls or anything, but more like the size of a "shooter" marble.  My periods have sucked for years, but this is a new development and it's pretty disturbing.

I know that the first few cycles after a pregnancy can be wonky, but this is ridiculous.  I loathe going to the doctor unless absolutely necessary and I'd rather not be seen in this condition, but I just contacted my doctor because I can't even have a normal life.  I'm being held hostage by my menstrual cycle. . .I don't think it's a good idea to negotiate with terrorists, but I'll gladly pay the ransom to get my life back!

Short Luteal Phase - HELP!

I just realized that my luteal phase is often only around ten days or under.  This would obviously cause problems in acheiving a pregnancy.  I would have bet money that I conceived this month, but my luteal phase was only seven days.  At least I had a longer cycle than last time, but it is still under 20 days.  :::sigh:::

Have any of you been diagnosed with a luteal phase defect?  If so, how was it resolved?  Did you ultimately end up with a successful pregnancy?

Crazy is Contagious

I think my craziness has spread to my husband.  As I wrote a few weeks ago, we do nothing easy and we always seem to juggle too many things.  We've just added one more thing and it's like introducing a chainsaw to the tennis balls that we've already been struggling to juggle.

My husband said we could not only be out of our house (as in everything is gone, the house looks great, and we are living elsewhere), but it would also be ready to list in two weeks.  Two weeks!  FOURTEEN DAYS. 

If you've ever been to our home, you'll understand why I'm freaking-the-frack out right now.  We have A TON of stuff.  I want to say we have a ton of sh*t, but that's what you call other people's stuff, right?  Not only do we have a ton of stuff to donate, sell, and pack, but we have a ton of projects that need to be completed.  You know, the ticky-tacky BS things that never seem to get done; new handles on cabinets, replacing switches & plugs, and stuff like that.  I guess now is the time to get said projects finished.  Additionally, I have painted every single vertical surface in this house.  And, by painted, I mean I PAINTED.  I actually have three walls that are tan with chocolate brown sponged on - it looks like a leopard print and it's very cool, but it will take at least two, if not three, coats of paint to cover it.  I almost regret my decision not to paint everything white way back when we painted. . .almost.

Having a toddler in the mix makes things damn near impossible, but my husband says it will all work out.  Uh, my husband works six-days each week and at least two evenings so I have no idea why he thinks anything will work out in his absence, but I guess he trusts that I can handle it.  I don't know if I should feel flattered or annoyed, but I suppose I can handle it so I'm trying to feel the flattery.

I'm not afraid of hard work or putting in long hours, but I should also mention that I have a very specific reason for wanting to take it easy for a couple more weeks.  Well, it looks like I won't have that luxury, so I'm hoping for the best outcome with that situation too.  Either way, it will make doing this project even harder than it should be.

Wish us luck/pray for us/whatever it is that you do because we're going to need all the help we can get!

I Might Be Crazy

I hate anecdotal "evidence" because it isn't really evidence at all.  Yet, I've been following advice that is based on anecdotes. . .I might be crazy.  I'm guessing that readers of this blog don't really need any evidence to back up that statement, but I submit the following:

~ I conceived last November while wearing an amber necklace.  Guess what?  I naturally think that means that the necklace had something to do with conception and I refuse to take it off unless I'm bathing.  Thank goodness I wasn't wearing a tiara when I conceived last year!

~ I read a hysterical account of how laptop computers were dangerous to embryonic and fetal development.  This poor woman lost two pregnancies and, once she stopped using her laptop, she carried her next child to term.  So now I'm afraid to have my laptop anywhere near my, uh, lap.  Yes, it defeats the purpose to have a laptop if you put it on a desk or table, but I already admitted that I'm crazy!

~ I heard that a Vitamin B6 deficiency can result in a too-short luteal phase.  The luteal phase is when the (hopefully) fertilized egg travels down to the uterus for implantation.  Your period marks the end of your luteal phase and the beginning of your next cycle.  If your luteal phase is too short, it means that the fertilized egg doesn't have time to implant in the uterus before your period begins so you have no chance for successful pregnancy.  Do I have a Vitamin B6 deficiency?  I don't know, but I'm still taking a B6 supplement. . .and, as a general rule, I never take pills unless absolutely necessary.

~ Mucinex. . .I'm of two minds on Mucinex.  It is really nice to wake up and breathe every morning, especially after the stunt in which I slammed my nose against a door edge because I haven't been able to breathe right ever since.  I just don't know if Mucinex really aids in conception.  The idea is that it thins all mucous in the body, including cervical fluid.  So if you're presenting egg-white cervical fluid (this is necessary to be fertile), Mucinex should make it that much more wet and stretchy for sperm to swim through.  Women in their 20s sometimes have several days of this thin cervical fluid around ovulation and, by their mid-30s and beyond, they generally don't have such copious amounts.  Indeed, I only get one day of egg-whites now and I used to get at least four in my younger years.  Does Mucinex work to improve fertility?  Not that I can tell, but I still take it after my period until I ovulate.

~ For years, I've heard that raising your hips after ejaculation helps aid the sperm in their voyage up through your cervix, uterus, and to the egg that you hope is hanging out & looking for a good time in the fallopian tube.  This hip raising business is a very unsexy thing to me and it drives home the fact that you weren't just having sex for the sake of having sex.  I guess sex with a purpose is unsexy to me too.  It just seems more fun to not think about making babies when you're making love.  Thankfully, there are only a few days out of each month that I am even remotely fertile or else I'm pretty sure my baby fever would have killed my natural sex drive.  Sure, babies are the result of sex, but I don't want to think about them while I'm having it.

~ I read something that indicated that female orgasm aids in conception because the uterine contractions help draw sperm up where they need to be.  It's just horrible that I have to try to have an orgasm and it's truly my least favorite part of the whole event. . .okay, okay, I'm sure you know that was a joke.  However, I don't particularly like the pressure to have an orgasm.  The crazy part of that statement?  No one is giving me any pressure except my own self!

What fertility anecdotes have you heard or read?  Have you tried them?  Did you have any success?