A letter to my body.

Over at BlogHer they are “launching a brand new Letters to My Body initiative” and I have decided to participate. If I would have written this letter a few years ago it would have been all about my disappointment in my body’s ability to lose weight, not anymore.

Dear Body,

I wanted you to know that I am slightly angry with you, yet afraid to be so.

I am angry because my whole life I was raised to believe that the whole point in you was to go forth and multiply. I spent my whole life wanting to be nothing other than a mother. I sang songs about it. “When I grow up, I want to be a mother, and have a family, one little, two little, three little babies of my own.” As you know, the song even makes me cry while I am typing it. I am sure you have heard me singing that very song in my head over and over, heard me singing it in the shower, and most recently heard me crying it while I shower. You know that the shower is my favorite place to cry, it washes the tears you create away.

My whole life I banked on it. This was what I was going to do when I grew up. There were no other plans, no other options. Why? Because having a baby is what I was raised to do. That song? They taught it to me through church. The whole religion is very strong about women going on and having babies, and let me tell you, when I was younger…that church was my entire life. The church and knowing that I was going to grow up and have babies is what my whole childhood was about. Now, don’t get me wrong, I loved that. I still do.

After working out all of the outside stuff to get this baby making business started (you know, money, stability, the lack of sperm) you took awhile to get the memo that this is what I wanted. Not as long as some people, and I am grateful for that, but still.

Then one morning you finally gave and in and did what you were supposed to, and you made me the happiest person alive. I was over the moon. You let me feel something that I had only dreamed about. I felt pure, unconditional, whole body consuming, love. A love that is so powerful that it almost scares me with how strongly I feel it. The joyous morning that that second line finally appeared on my stick some of the first words out of my mouth were “I am no longer a failure.”

You kept me in that peaceful, happy, full of love stage for four months, and then you took it all away again. You got to hold that precious baby for four months. I have to wait until I die to do that. You stole it from me. You stole memories that I was already planning. You stole me finally feeling like I had my family back. You stole everything, and I am angry at you for that.

And yet, I sit here afraid to type anymore. I am afraid that next month, when we get to start drugging you up again, that you will sit back and say “Look lady, I don’t care what you want. If you are going to be mad at me, I’ll give you something to be mad about.”

Please don’t do that. Let’s work as a team together again. Let’s work towards that goal of what I believe you were born to do. I will try to be patient with you, if you promise to understand that I do sometimes get frustrated. As you have already noticed, I am trying to get rid of some parts of you. Please don’t make the tummy growl too loudly when I am passing up the cheese fries for plate of steamed veggies.

We need to get together and make another baby. I need that, or you and I are going to be in a lot more trouble than we already are. I am finally dragging you and I almost out of the pit we were in, please don’t make me lose my grip.

I am going to thank you now. I know that in a few months I’ll be too busy planning new memories, because you are going to come through for me, so I will be too busy to write again. But you will know, since you house my brains and my heart, how thankful I will be to you.

Let’s get it right this time.




Because we can’t do anything the easy way.

So I’m getting all the prescriptions I’ll need for the next cycle all organized and ready to go so there will be no stressing once my period shows (not that she’s left yet or anything). I realize that Michelle didn’t give us one for Clomid. No biggie, we’ll call her.

Then I start figuring out the Ovidrel. Last time we used this we found out the day of. Our prescription insurance said “Mail us the script, and we’ll overnight the drug back to you.” That doesn’t work, I need it TONIGHT. Well we can get it for you in 3-5 days. After having this arguement 47 times, we gave up and decided we would just pay out of pocket. Well Mr. Pharmacist was having none of this. HE said he would call the insurance company. It wasn’t easy for him either, but he finally got them to understand that we MUST have the shot tonight. People, timing is everything in the wonderful world of infertility.

So….now that I have made a short story long, I got the prescription from Michelle when we were there at the beginning of the month so that I could mail it in and have it waiting for me in my fridge, instead of panicking again. Yesterday I went online and printed out the paperwork that goes with it. I got home from worked and asked Jenn for the script. What script? The one I had you put in your wallet. Oh.

See, on Tuesday while we were in at her bank (the one she works at), and she cleaned out her wallet. She gave her teller all of the receipts and asked her throw them in the shredding bin. Guess what else went in there? You got it!! Gold star for you to know that Jenn had the prescription shredded.

After laughing hysterically (and calling the bank to see if it was maybe possible that the particular bin had not been shredded, and having the teller dig through to see if she could find the script-she did not, but she did find the receipt for our tattoos!), I told Jenn it was no big deal since we had to call for the Clomid anyway.

In other news, it is sad when you go to your blood testing place and they not only know you by name, but you know how to do their job better than they do. Our STD bloodwork all expires the end of this month, so we had to get it redone. When the receptionist called my number we went over all the normal stuff (insurance company, emergency contact, etc.) and she said”okay, have a seat and they will call you back! My response: Don’t I have to sign the consent to have an HIV test paper? Oh, um, yeah.

Then when the blood taker chic called me back she said “Hey my favorite passer-outer!” Once. One time you pass out and they label you. I did have to remind her which vein works best and that she will be needing the blue needle thing. But hey, as long as she remembers to have the smelling salts handy, she’s got the job!

A conversation at 1:09am.

First I’ll note that I get this from my mother.

H: narmf macanoomi sarf.
J: What?
H: Hmm, (wipes drool from cheek). I was just dreaming that I was on a game show and I had to catch this weird blue frog with a spaghetti strainer, but every time you touched the frog you were shocked.
J: Are you awake?
H: I could be.
J: You are very entertaining some nights.
H: Oh, and that first thing I said was “I want macaroni salad” but I have no idea what that has to do with the dream.
J: So you weren’t awake at the beginning, but now you are?
H: I think so. I really do want macaroni salad though. Will you go to Giant and get me some? They are open 24 hours.
J: No.
H: Oh, so only when I am pregnant am I special enough to go to Giant for in the middle of thenight?
J: Yep.
H: Whatever.
J: Well when you are pregnant it is the baby talking. Right now it is just you being weird at 1am.
H: Everwhat.

Yep, I fully admit that I am weird. The problem is that this exact scenario happens at least twice a week in our house. I wake up from a dream, but am not awake and have odd conversations with Jenn. Sometimes I get very angry at her because she has no idea what I am talking about, but she should!!! I mean, she was there, in my dream, right? So therefore her subconscious should know exactly what I am talking about.

Other examples:

  • One night I kept screaming at her that the pizza delivery guy was at the door, why doesn’t she just pay him and feed me. (dude, there is no place that even delivers pizza in our area.)
  • One night I kept trying to get her to understand that yes, the dog is outside in the back yard, and yes she is barking like mad, please go let her in. (We don’t have a fence, there is no letting the dog out by herself)
  • My personal favorite…years and years before we even started trying to have a baby I woke up and hit her because I was mad that she was ignoring the babies cries. Can’t I just get two hours of sleep??

Someday, maybe Jenn will get two hours of sleep!

MeMe and Birth Control

I’ve been tagged. I feel honored as I have never been tagged before!! Now, I’m not all technical so I can’t link but Beth at Taking Chances tagged me…here goes:


Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
Open the book to page 123.
Find the fifth sentence.
Post the next three sentences.
Tag five people.

I am currently reading Rhett Butler’s People (Beth, if you like For One More Day, you will LOVE Tuesdays with Morrie, 200 time better in my opinion!)

Tonight, Minette smiled her courtesan’s smile and told Captain Busy how dapper he looked.

“Ah, Minny. Have you changed your hair? It seems much reder than it was. Did I hear Rhett is back in town?”

I tag…Merr at Proud Prowsers and Kim at Mommies to Three Flowers. (yes, only two, I’m a loser like that)


And in my other life…I called Michelle at the Fertility Center this morning. She was also very proud of my body for having a period on its own!! She called in my birth control pills and I start taking them tomorrow. Is it weird that I am excited to take birth control pills? Yes, I am sure it is 🙂

We are home.

On the way home I heard a beautiful song, and the lyrics of the chorus really hit home. It’s Keith Richard’s I Still Miss You.

“I’ve talked to friends
I’ve talked to myself
I’ve talked to God
I prayed liked hell but I still miss you
I tried sober I tried drinking
I’ve been strong and I’ve been weak
and I still miss you
I’ve done everything to move on like I’m supposed to
I’d give anything for one more minute with you
I still miss you
I still miss you baby”

The whole song really works for me, but this chorus is my life right now through and through.

Heading Home

We went to a beach for a bit this morning to say goodbye. It was raining, so it was a little bit easier to say goodbye. It was very hard. I cried…a lot. I really am not sure I am ready to head back to reality. (don’t worry, this gets better later…)

So we deaded out. At 2pm. This would get us back to our house around 5am. It then hits me that if we do that, we’ll scare the crap out of our housesitter!! So we decide to only go halfway. I hate stopping, I’d rather just drive straight through. But Jenn likes staying in hotels, and really we were quite a bit underbudget for this trip so we decided to splurge a bit. I mean, when Jenn tries to turn the car, while pushing the miles button on the dash board and gets her arm stuck, it may be a sign that your driver needs a nap.

We stopped a bit past halfway in Lumberton, North Carolina. Dude, our hotel is awesome!! The bed is so squishy, I’m not a fan, but Jenn loves it!

The room is huge. Bigger than our “suite” in Orlando!

Then there is the bathroom, it’s so big. And the little shampoos and such they give you are adorable!

Oh, but the toilet room is small…see…

(interestingly enough, I had her permission to post that)

But, when I first started this blog it was to talk about being pregnant. Then it was about trying to get pregnant again. Yes, my words have gotten slightly sidetracked, but I’ve got some news on that front for you.

I GOT MY PERIOD TODAY!! Next stop, birth control for a cycle…and then…Hop on the Clomid Crazy Train!! Whooo Hooo!!!!!!!! (see, happens everytime I leave Florida!)