Random Things

This past weekend was glorious. Warm, sunny, springy. So we took a little drive and went south to York, Kittery, and Portsmouth. We walked on the beach:

Saw cute things in the sand:

And now it's back to this:

Ugh. This white stuff of course is delaying our bathroom project. Hopefully things will dry out and the construction will begin on Thursday. So far, we have a bathtub in our garage. Classy.

This will be our first serious home improvement project, and I am a bit frightened by it. The amount of money, the drastic change to the entire look of the house. But oh, the comfort of walking into a bathroom from the bedroom without having to take the stairs! I can't wait! I think it will be worth it.

There are so many things we could - and should - do to this house. I can already see that the list will never end. There is the yard. The curtains. Art for the living room walls. Patio furniture. Need to get a grill. Clean the basement. Plant flowers for the spring. Lawn mowing. Ugh. I mean, it's all good 'ugh', but still.

In other news, IUI Round 2 was a no-go. I am really not surprised - I don't think the doctor knew what she was doing and my egg probably just said 'screw it' and moved to a warmer climate. I can't blame her.

Round Two

It is Saturday morning and I am sitting at home, licking my wounds. Not literally, of course, because the wounds happen to be on my insides. Today was IUI Round #2 and boy, it was about as romantic as a root canal. Actually, a root canal hurts less I think. My body wouldn't cooperate today so the doctor had to use a clamp on my cervix. That's right. It is about as painful as it sounds. Ouch.

Whatever humor I found in driving around with sperm, etc., was gone about oh, two seconds into the procedure. Of course, if it worked then it was worth it. If it didn't work... Well, let's not think about that yet.

Note to self: I should have had that cosmo with dinner last night. Darn. I could really use one right now. I am going to spend the rest of the day on the couch and nursing Drew, who is also sick as a puppy.

On a different note... I wrote this piece on The Nervous Breakdown last week and I've been getting some interesting feedback about it. I do appreciate all the comments, but on the other hand it feels like the comments are evaluating the relationship I wrote about. I know it's not really true. But when someone writes that they would love to read more about it, or that the story left them dangling, I feel like saying "well, welcome to my world." I sure would have liked to know more and I was left dangling too.

I am not bitter, or anything. It all happened a lifetime ago and a continent away.

My brother said that he is jealous that I had this big love in my life that is worthy of writing about. True, but what does that say about all the other loves - including the current one - that I don't write about? Why is it harder to write about something that is quiet and constant and safe? Drew read the piece too and he said that he loved me and my "dark, dark past." Snort. Never thought of myself as someone with a past, but I guess I do have one.

Better luck next time

The IUI didn't work this time around. It's a bummer, but it's not unexpected. The doctor said that there is only a 20% chance any given month... I'd like to think of it more like a 50% chance - it will either work or it won't - but this month it didn't.

I wasn't quite sure last night, so I took a pregnancy test. I got a digital one, because the little pink and blue lines/plus-minus signs can be ambiguous at best. So Drew and I stared at the thing in the bathroom, watching the little hourglass blink as the test was "thinking." Then suddenly, the result: Not Pregnant.

"Wow," said Drew. "That's a little too blunt." I had to laugh. I guess a lot of people are happy to see that they are not pregnant and would feel relief, or find the finality of Pregnant just as rude as we found Not Pregnant. But there was something to what Drew said. The test was so cold, so clinical, so unfeeling. No "better luck next time," or "try again," or "oops." No humanity.

On the same day, I found out that my childhood friend from Budapest lost her baby. She was 7 or 8 weeks along... I guess it was a "no baby" day all around. Her situation made me think of all the stuff that may still wait for us down the road -- good and bad. Well, honestly, I can't even comprehend all of it, but I am getting vague glimpses of the highs, lows, the madness, the hope, the giddiness, the disappointment... It is like a rollercoaster and I am just trying to hold on tight, close my eyes, and scream through the scary parts.

Sunday musings

First, a bit of whining... As I am waiting to find out whether the IUI worked (one more week to go), I am going through a minor version of my own little hell with my skin. My eczema apparently was kept in check by the gallons of steroid creams I've been using all of my life. Now that those are out of the question because I am in the group of "women who are or who might be pregnant," my skin decided to just simply peel off my face in small bits. It's a lovely feeling and sight. Sigh.

But other than spending a ridiculous amount of time dipping myself into various moisturizers, the weekend has been quiet. We are watching our icicles grow on our roof and waiting for snow-plow man to come and clean off our roof. Yey.

This would be pretty, if it weren't for the fact that our porch already flooded because of the ice collecting on the roof. Shoddy window installation was the culprit, apparently. It's been fixed and now all we have to do is replace the ugly linoleum porch flooring. I am cool with that.

In other news, before meeting Girl Chris and Boy Chris last night for dinner, I picked up my pottery from the studio. Not a great batch, but eh, they are OK. Dinner, on the other hand was fab. It's hard to find friends once you are out of college, especially couple friends where both the husbands and the wives get along. So it's always a relief when during dinner the men don't sit quietly and grumble to themselves.

A leafy platter. It's one of the better pieces. The glaze is more greenish than on the picture.

I like the way the texture of this turned out... The bowl itself is just OK. For some reason I haven't been inspired in pottery class lately. Too much gossiping, I guess.

I also took this awesome picture today at the car wash. I LOVE driving through car washes. It just makes me giddy and happy. I don't know why, but really, who cares?

And I would remiss not to mention the fact that it's Super Bowl Sunday. Here is Drew with his Terrible Towels.

Go Steelers!

Fertility Hilarity

Warning: over sharing happening below. If you are squeamish, turn away now.

Today was Operation "Turkey Basting" as Drew and I lovingly refer to a simple little procedure called intrauterine insemination. The doctor takes Drew's sperm, and when my eggs are all happy and ready, he injects the boys into my uterus. Simple. So today right around noon, I found myself driving down Route 1 between Saco and Scarborough with a small jar of "sample" between my boobs.

The morning started with several dilemmas: What to wear? I had to keep the "sample" warm and stable. I opted for a simple black plunge bra that provides enough lift and separation to accommodate the jar. Perfect. Another thing to ponder: Turnpike or Route 1? I had exactly 30 minutes to make it to my doctor's office, which on most days is enough, except for days when Saco decides to have the traffic of New York City.

I was lucky today and made it in less than 20 minutes. As I was walking from my car to the lab, I was amazed at how sort of nonchalantly I was able to walk around, knowing what was under my clothes. I even made small-talk in the elevator with another woman - who knows what she was hiding in her bra?

So, I went straight to the lab, where nurse Dolores asked me my birthday like, a hundred times. Then Drew's birthday. Then the spelling of my name, followed by the usual "oh, that's so pretty, where are you from?" comments. Come on woman! I've got a jar full of sperm under my shirt and we are discussing nationalities??? She finally got to the important part. "So, do you have the sample?" Well, yes I do. But what is the best way to get it out? There were other people around me and since I am still new at this, I was a little sheepish about handing some other woman my husband's sperm practically in the middle of a waiting room. But there was nothing else to do, but to reach into my sweater and pull out the cup. Whew. Boys safely delivered. Dolores never batted an eye.

By that time Drew was there too and we spent an hour in the waiting room looking at magazines. Note to self: If I ever do get pregnant, I have to stay away from these. It seems like every single cute baby picture is followed by some horrific story about sore nipples and hemorrhoids. Ick.

The rest of the procedure was pretty painless and speckled with inappropriate sperm jokes courtesy of my doctor. He is awesome. I won't know if this worked for a couple of weeks, but I hope that I will be able to find all of this funny even if I do have to do it two or three or four more times.