Infertility Sucks...
I like to plan. Surprises—for the most part—are not my cup-o-tea. But having to plan out your sex life down to the VERY minutest of details (and I do mean MINUTE) just to have a baby...I'd have to say it sucks. Big time. It's more than just "honey, come home! I'm ovulating!! NOW!!!!" This is charts and temperatures and saliva swabs and peeing on tiny little sticks and taking medicine that not only turns your emotions hostile, but your cervical mucous as well--oh yes! Then there's the whole CHECKING the cervical mucous thing! And if I don't have fertile cervical mucous, then I have to use something to make my cervix a more "hospitable" host. I know...that was probably way too much information. But hey...this is MY blog. If it's too much, go
here.
As frustrating as it is, it's all worth it. I'm sitting in the kitchen listening to Ben playing with Adri. Hearing her sing and giggle as Daddy makes faces at her. And hearing Ben squeal with delight as he watches Adri crawling for the first time and Adri sitting up and clapping for herself. Yeah...I'm glad we're doing it again.
Have It Your Way...well, except for that.
Okay...a little vent here. I spent most of the day in Denver this morning getting meds for my Dad so that my sister could have the day off. You wouldn't think that would be a huge undertaking. Yeah, well, I was wrong. The first place I went to waited 15 minutes before they told me that they didn't have the pain killer I was to pick up. "We'll have it in on Wednesday, though." Uh...HELLO McFly!!! IT'S A PICKIN' PAIN KILLER! HE NEEDS IT NOOOOOOOOWWWWWW! Then I had to drive clear across town to another pharmacy where they told me that they didn't have access to the other pharmacy's database (yeah right...), so I had to call my poor father and make him give me all of his information by phone. Then while waiting over an HOUR, Adri and I tooled around the grocery store where we picked up a package of spoons and a jar of beef with vegetables and rice and took it back over to the pharmacy to have lunch. And the people behind the counter looked at me like I was the one inconveniencing THEM by asking every 15 minutes if my script was finished!!! Oy vey...
So anyway, I was on my way home and stopped at Burger King for lunch. I'm really into their Chicken Fries lately. I'm also trying to keep my french fry consumption to the bare minimum, so I asked him to keep the fries a medium and just king size the drink. "I'm sorry ma'am, we can't do that." What do you mean you can't do that? Every other Burger King I've ever been to can do it!" "We just don't have that option...I'm sorry." So because he can't seem to find the button on the cash register, I end up having to order all three things separately and paying $1.50 MORE than I would have if I had gotten the meal--not to mention that I got a SMALL fry instead of the medium one that came with the meal, so I even got less food and still paid more! Ugh... I know there are bigger injustices in the world, but...well, it's just not right.
PLEASE tell me this isn't bad....
For the last 3 hours, Adriana has been making the same noise over and over and over and OVER again. It's not a grunt...and it's not a cry. She kinda sounds like a chimpanzee. Whatever it is, she's mildly unhappy. I tried feeding her. She kept swatting my hand away (and flinging chicken, potatoes and peas all over the floor). I tried giving her a bottle. She drank 3 ounces and tossed it across the living room floor. Right next to the peas. She's physically just fine. So I put in ear plugs. Someone please tell me that's not bad! But there's NO ONE around to relieve me, and I can't even call Ben, because he left his cell phone at home. Then there's the not-so-small Rosie who insists on sitting on my lap. I now know why moms lock themselves in the bathroom.
