Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Crazy Is As Crazy Does

Water came out my mouth and nose at the same time today. And it hurt.


It happened while I was reading "Making Babies.." when I came to the section about acidity and baking soda douches. Yeah, you heard me right.


Baking soda. Down there.


I had to read it three times before I finally put the book down to wipe up all of the water.


What the same hill?!


I think that I've lost my ever-lovin' mind. Officially. I mean, I've tried a lot of crazy things in my day...but I think that I have to draw the line with that one.


Seriously.


But then again....if two doctors who have such a good track record of treating fertility issues (that people will fly in from all around the world to see them) say it works, it can't hurt to try. Right?!


Wrong. Right? Wrong. Right? Wrong.


I mean...baking soda. Down there. Ouch.

 

Sunday, September 25, 2011

The Mad Hatter

Alice: This is impossible.
The Mad Hatter: Only if you believe it is.



Confession:  Today, for a moment, I turned into Alice.  Believing that it was ...impossible.

"It" being fertility.

I was having a normal day, doing normal things...catching up on one of my favorite blogs to find out how a fellow blogger's retrieval went.  And that's when it hit me like a ton of bricks (again).

"It" being infertility.

I thought about the last five years.  The highs and the lows.  The peaks and the valleys.  The faith and the fear.  How you can go through even the most extreme procedures like IVF... multiple times...and still not have any guarantees?

Although we put it all to rest in June with those perfect blastocysts and our last IVF failure, I've been digging it up lately.  You know, getting excited (and dare I say hopeful) about additional insurance coverage and what not.  One. More.Time.

But today as I sat and remembered the journey, I wanted to run and hide. 

To put it to rest and move on (again).  Because this kind of disappointment isn't good for the soul.  It makes you sad and crazy.

"It" being infertility.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

This and That

Today I received two dozen pink roses.  Just because.

That Mr. Thompson, he's a good man.

I think that it's because I kept up with a skinny girl who was running on the treadmill next to me last night at the gym.  She ran - I ran.  She ran faster - I ran faster still.

It was awesome.

And it scored me roses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyone ever read Making Babies: A Proven 3-Month Program for Maximum Fertility by Dr. Sami David?  If so, I'm looking for feedback.

What did you think?!  Acupuncture, Gluten and caffeine free diet....

More treadmill.

(More roses?)


Sunday, September 11, 2011

The Quiet Place

I wasn’t going to post this. I wrote it, and then intended to just let it sit in my draft folder. I wrote it for myself, something I do often.

So I’m not really sure why I’m hitting publish right now. But I am.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sunday, September 11, 2012.  I'm sitting in the back seat of a Red.Cross van headed to Idaho.  It will be a three and a half hour drive with some of my department staff in the car with me.  The Volunteer Services Supervisor that I helped hire as my replacement a few years ago as I promoted to the department Manager.  The PR Manager. The Donor Recruitment Supervisor I added last October.  Two of our Administrative staff. 

Together, we are headed to Idaho for a regional conference.

Today is the ten year anniversary of an event that forever changed my life.  For three very long years 9/11 consumed me.  The response.  The recovery.  The casework supervision with the victim's compensation fund.  My old life as a Disaster Specialist with Red.Cross and F.EMA.  My work with Homeland.Security.

I came to Utah seven years ago to get away and take a year "off".  To be closer to my west coast family and friends and apply the lessons of that terrible day and the three years that followed.  To invest more into the personal relationships that matter most to me.

Seven years later I'm still here.  Instead of that boy from Boston, I met and married Mr. Thompson.  Instead of running around the country helping to manager disaster relief operations I settled into a different kind of job.  It was never my intention to stay - but it just worked out that way.  The snow was too great and I was just that tired.

And so as I sit in the backseat of this van headed on a road trip with a van full of people that I work with every day now...I realize that they have no idea who I am.

I don't mean that like I'm great.  I mean who I am- at my core.  As a person.  What shaped me into who I am and motivates and inspires me every day of my life.

It started with one person asking the question, "Where were you when..."

And as it went from person to person...I tried to look busy on my computer and then just stared out the window a little sad.  None of them have anything to do with Emergency Services.  None of them even worked for Red.Cross at the time.  They all lived in Utah.  Not that that makes their experience any less...just different and it just tells me that they don't know who I am.

And this was the moment that I let myself be really sad - sad to my core - this anniversary.  I haven't watched an ounce of TV so I haven't had to go there in my mind.  I haven't thought about the Emergency Operation Center and how I felt when the mayor ordered 40,000 body bags.  I haven't thought about the days that followed and of all those weary men and women who would wander into the Respite Center in the church across the street for water and a few minutes of peace from "The Pile".  I haven't thought about all of those families and their stories that I would listen to as we'd work through the endless months (years even) of "casework".  I haven't thought of the hands I held or the hugs I gave. 

But today, I've strangely thought about the people who worked really hard next to me.  A core group of people for whom I'll be bonded with forever.  We rolled up our sleeves together and went to work.
Today, I miss my friends who wouldn't have had to ask where I was because they were there too...and who understand that deepest part of me.

Because it's part of them too.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

And So It Goes...

D^%# Pro.vera!

When I called Dr. H last week to report that after taking the first month's dose, my "lady days" hadn't yet appeared....his instructions were to take a pregnancy test and then go into the second month's dose. 

You all know the results of that.

So I started taking it again on Sept 1st....and here I am on Day 10 (of a 12 day dose) and I feel like crrrrap!  It mimics all the symptoms of morning sickness and it sucks.

Because it's not.  Y'all know that if you're going to have morning (afternoon and night) sickness - you better really have morning (afternoon and night) sickness!

I ventured to mow the lawn today and had to stop in the corner to "lose my lunch" on the fence.  Funny stuff until my dog tried to lick it up.

Dumb Pro.vera.  Dumb Dog.

And so I lay in my hammock trying to swat the fly that keeps buzzing around me.  Dumb fly.  I guess he knows that I didn't take a shower this morning. 

Because I felt like crrrap.

Actually this hammock gig isn't so bad. I can smell my overgrown tomato bushes and freshly cut lawn and it feels peaceful.

I need peace.  Tomorrow is 9/11 and for me that means a whole lot, plus some.  I turned on the Evening News a few nights ago and listened to .05 seconds of some of the 911 calls that came in that day...and it took me back to that room.

Where the real calls came in.

What a day.   What memories of the years and experiences that followed.  What a glorious thing that today I'm laying here in my hammock smelling tomatoes and new grass...instead of sitting in an Emergency Operation Center trying to make tough decisions I'm not prepared to make, or a Respite Center across the street from a heaping "Pile" of trauma, or a Service Center with a loved one who just lost the most important person in their life.  Dumb terrorists.

The lessons of 9/11 led me to where I am and althrough I sometimes miss my old town - my old job - my old friends - my old life ...  I'll take my current situation any day.  Even with the Pro.vera.

Cheers! (And don't forget to make who/what matters most - matter most. Right now. Today.)

That's the part we should never forget.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Does This Dress Make Me Look...

A sorta, kinda, somewhat funny thing happened on Sunday.  I was visiting my parents over the weekend and decided to go to church with them.  After church my dad's sister (who we aren't very close to) rushed up to me and said, "it looks like great things are happening!".  Having no idea what she was referring to I smiled and said, "well of course - good things are always happening!"

Then with a big grin on her face she asked me when I was due.

.. And that my dear peeps is the LAST time I will ever wear an empire waist dress.

EVER!

I laughed if off but it was really awkward.  To make up for it I told her I was going to start asking her instead of Mr. Thompson if my cloths make me look fat because obvioulsy they do.  And to think I just spent $70 on that new dress....

I guess you win a few and lose a few, right?!

On a positive note, good things are happening in the Thompson household.  On January 1st our company will change to a new health care provider and I received news on Friday that we get another $10,000 in infertility benefits.

In my world that means one more round of IVF (plus change).

Hope people - we have more hope!  This also means that I have exactly four months to lose the 30 pounds I want to lose. Think I can do it?! 

Thanks to my well intending Aunt Rama, it's a guarnatee!


Friday, September 2, 2011

The Reason

When I was a kid I would ask a lot of question.  When I say a lot...I mean A. Lot.
 
"Why is the sky blue?"

"Why do we have boogers?"

"Why do zebra's have stripes?"

"Why is there a leap year?"

"Why do cows jump on the backs of other cows?"

"Why...."

"Why..."

"Why..."

Without fail my father would always reply...."for shits and giggles".

Always.

Which is was my exact reply when Mr. Thompson asked me yesterday morning why I was taking a home pregnancy test.

"For shits and giggles."
 
What can I say, like father like daughter.
 
Dr. H had me start Pro.vera on the first day of last month to try to regulate my "lady days".  When I started taking on August 1st I had already started my cycle so it made sense.  Knowing that I was supposed to start the second round on September 1st, I was a little surprised when my "lady days" hadn't shown up by cycle day 39. So much for regulation.

Which meant one of two things:
  1. Miracle of all miracles!
  2. The Pro.vera didn't work
So I thought I would be bold and brave and rule out #1.  (Which I did).  When Mr. Thompson questioned my sanity I told him it was all "for shits and giggles:" because frankly, I enjoy the torture.

Not.

Show me one infertile person who enjoys taking pregnancy tests and I'll show you a mental institution.

And yes, I cried when I got the negative results.  I do it every time because although I know what the outcome will be...I'm still a creature of hope. Stupid, I know...but I never said it made sense.

That's why it's called infertility.

Nothing about it makes sense.  Nothing. Even if it is "for shits and giggles".

 
 
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