Monthly Archives: June 2008

Day off :P


S. and I are off today. I don’t really have much on the agenda, just going to the trainer at noon and then I’m supposed to go to the mall and help a friend pick out a birthday present for her boyfriend. I don’t enjoy shopping, especially with other people. I’m like a guy that way–I just walk through the stores with a sort of dazed look. I hope she doesn’t subject me to browsing through Forever 21 or Charlotte Russe, because the clothes don’t even fit me and I’d just be watching her try on cute little outfits. I don’t know why I agree to these little shopping trips.

As for S., he usually does laundry on Mondays and then goes to see his family later in the afternoon. I don’t go with him very often. Lately I’ve become uncomfortable with visiting family (his and mine) because even though they never ask, I feel like they are all wondering whether I’ve managed to get pregnant yet.


I’m done!!!


My workweek is finally finished.  I have two days off starting NOW!  I swear I live for these days…

Provera (again) PLUS some well-earned bitching


Ahhh, my first entry. I’m going to try to keep this as non-whiny as I can manage as far as the infertility stuff goes, but I reserve the right to complain ad nauseum about anything work related because, well, my job sucks.

I started Provera yesterday to bring on my period so that I can move forward with another cycle of injectables/IUI. Fun stuff. I have PCOS, a hormonal problem, the result of which is anovulation and infertility. This cycle will be my second attempt at pregnancy. Well, it’s my second inject./IUI attempt. We’ve been trying to conceive without serious medical intervention for almost 2 years.

So, here’s what will happen in the next few weeks. After I get my period, I’ll be giving myself daily injections of Follicle Stimulating Hormone to FORCE my ovaries to mature an egg (or several eggs). I also have to get ultrasounds and bloodwork every couple days to see how my ovaries and hormones are doing. I don’t particularly like that part, mainly because the appointments are so early in the morning. I have to get up at 6 am to be there on time. Another concern is that between meds, monitoring and IUI/sperm wash, this next month will cost us around $3000. Anyway, once the eggs are ready, I’ll go in and be inseminated with my husband’s sperm. It’s really not that bad. The needles don’t hurt–I can barely feel them. The insemination is uncomfortable, but doesn’t last long.

I wonder if this will be worth it in the end. I find it a little funny that I’m going through all this (time, discomfort, embarrassment, EXPENSE) to try to have something that will completely alter my life. Here I sit, complaining that I have to get up super early for doctor appointments, and the sole purpose of all of it is to have something that will wake me up at an un-Godly hour every single day. Sort of funny, when you think about it.

Whew, now that the infertility stuff is out of the way…

Work was absolute hell last night. We had a party of 25 that was supposed to stay outside but they got hot (waaahh!) and came in to the bar. Of course G.D. had to leave because God forbid he actually sticks around any later than 10 pm. He did his usual walk-quickly-back-and-forth-between-the-bar-and-the-kitchen thing, appearing to be busy, while actually doing nothing. So, he made all the money off the party, skated out of doing any cleanup and left early. He is a lazy little shit.

Their was also an anniversary party upstairs that D-R-A-N-K. So I was busy and made lots of money. Which is good. But by the end, I was covered in a layer of filth, on top of a layer of sweat, all covered by a layer of stinky clothes. Gross.

In other news, it’s coming up. The stupid “anniversary”. No, not my wedding anniversary, an older one. This one will be here on July 3rd and I will celebrate mourn acknowledge it quietly by myself. It’s been 11 years…I can’t effing believe it. I don’t even think of that girl as being me…it’s like all that nonsense happened to some other stupid girl. I haven’t seen the man in about 8 years, but I can still see his face in my mind. I can hear his voice, just like he was standing here talking to me. When I start thinking about it, I need to pull out my old journals to remind myself how unhappy he made me. Sometimes time and space erase those memories, and I’m glad relieved that I documented them so well so I don’t forget.