So, I just experienced my first Mother’s Day. Well, not my first, of course. I’ve been experiencing them as long as I’ve been a daughter, celebrating my own mother, grandmother, and the other mothers in my life. One a year, every May, until I was married… Then I spent four Mother’s Days preferring to eat
Monday, May 13th, 2013. CD2.
I wish I had felt well enough to put fingers to keyboard yesterday, but alas, I did not. There were so many lovely Mother’s Day posts floating around our little corner of the interwebs yesterday though, I doubt you really needed my two cents.
Though, of course, I will give it…
No situation quite outlines the suckiness of infertility quite like starting one’s period on Mother’s Day.
At any rate, I survived, if barely. The husband and I went to lunch with his grandmother, who is a tiny firecracker of a woman, and I ate more salmon than any one person probably should. We drove out to see his sister and her kiddos for a bit, too, and dropped off some flowers and a card. She was so sweet and sent me home with a cute little potted flower and a package of mini-muffins, which I suppose should have lasted me at least until today, but cramps and an appetite for carbs and sugar destroyed that cute little notion. I don’t think those bad boys lasted more than an hour after we left her house.
After the morning/early afternoon activity, the husband took me home and left me to my own devices, which included wrapping up in a giant blanket with my heating pad, Kindle, tv remote, and roughly six pots of tea.
I hope your Mother’s Day was as relaxing, if less crampy and bleedy. 🙂
On another note, the arrival of dear old Aunt Flo means that tomorrow is my appointment with Dr. F to see if my cyst has made a graceful exit, and whether or not I can proceed with a Femara/Gonal F cycle this month.
I sure hope that’s the case…
Oh, and an update on the Metformin Situation – all is well! Even yesterday, with my reproductive system throwing my digestive system for a nauseating loop, I had no complaints from the Met. I’m still only taking 1000mg of the original formula Met with dinner, but I’m feeling brave enough to increase that this week. I think I’ll start taking 500mg with lunch, and another 1000mg with dinner as usual.
It’s unbelievable to me (and my doctor) that the extended release formula made me so sick when it’s usually the easier to tolerate option, and that the original formula that’s suppose to be complete havoc on the digestion is the one that’s working for me… What can I say, though? I never do things the easy way.
In vitamin/supplement news, I started taking a high-dose B-12 supplement (even though tests showed that my level is normal), because Met is supposed to suck the B-12 right out of your body. I also started the husband and myself on a good quality fish oil supplement every day. He was skeptical, but so far he’s complying.
As for this cycle, I’m feeling a little… apathetic.
I know I should be all bright and sunshiney and full of hope and rainbows and glitter and unicorn poop, but I just don’t.
You know that feeling when you first ride a rollercoaster? It’s exciting and you don’t know what’s coming next, and when the ride ends, you’re disappointed, but you can’t wait to try again.
Now imagine that you’ve been on that same ride, over and over again with scarcely a break, for over four years.
Boring, right? The rises, falls, loops and drops – Hell, even the disappointment at the end becomes expected…
I just want off sometimes.
Maybe my attitude will improve once I talk to the doc tomorrow, or maybe I’ll make some crazy choice to just stop trying for a while. Right now though, I can’t tell you what I really want.
I know that I want a baby. I know that I want to do whatever I can to get there. What I don’t know is whether I’m ready to get back on that ride again just yet… Only time will tell.
I’ll be sure to update tomorrow after my appointment, but for now, everyone have a Happy Monday! 🙂
May 8th, 2011. CD9.
No, not that nursery.
The one across the street with the pretty flowers.
The husband and I took advantage of the warm, sunny day and took our poor dog for a nice long afternoon walk. Our little jaunt took us over to the local nursery, where we picked up a basil plant and a couple of strawberry pots, and then over to the neighborhood frozen custard stand to secure a little after-dinner treat.
We spoke with the Moms on the phone, and made sure they received the silly cards we sent. We did our duty by our own mothers, and after we grill a lovely steak dinner (with fresh basil couscous!), we’re going to get started on this month’s attempt at making me a mother.
Here’s some photos of some pretties to make it up to ya.
I know that as Infertiles, Mothers Day is supposed to make us bitter and resentful at the universe for our unending barrenness.
That sentiment seems a little selfish to me. I mean, I may not have children (yet), but I do still have my mother, my mother-in-law, and my grandmother-in-law in my life. This should be a day used to celebrate those that we still have with us, those women who brought us up. Today should be the day to honor the women in our lives who have changed our diapers, yelled at us for crossing the street without looking both ways, stayed up all night waiting for us to sneak back into the house, and not telling Dad how late we got home or who it was that dropped us off.
For me, this is a day to honor them that I do have, not a day to cry about what I don’t.
Besides, I celebrate that every other day of the year…
And so, in honor of Mothers Day (and in honor of not taking yourself too seriously in life), I present to you an excerpt from the mind-blowingly awesome book I’m currently reading–Bossypants, by Tina Fey.