Fumbling Towards Here

Archive for the ‘medication’ Category

When Tomorrow Comes

Posted by dakota on September 15, 2008

This week had a number of themes which for various reasons have left me exhausted, headachy, happily surprised and horny.   I’m too tired to explore these tonight so for the moment I’ll just hit the headlines as it were.

Mulberry and I have successfully completed nine days of injections with the cherry on top trigger shot last night. The trigger was a bit nervous making — more for mulberry than for me since she was the one administering it.  One needle.  One shot.  One night only.  She did great.  And all in all, it all wasn’t so terrible giving myself the other shots. Having a cute cheerleader with blissfull furry friends always helps of course. Who knew?

Tonight I feel bloated and uncomfortable. For last several days, however, I have felt headachy and more aroused than a three-testicled tom cat. Even with so many things going on, I have not been able to keep my mind/hands off my lovely spouse who has been waiting for me to arrive home from work at one a.m., well past her bedtime, to help me with the injections. Is it just me or have others experienced this heightened state during this process as well? No Dakota, just you. Moving on.

Tomorrow the doctor I dislike and described in a recent post is the one who will do the retrieval. Monday is our REs day off and she will actually not be in town. In her sweet and humane manner she called me and expressed her regret that she couldn’t come in herself because she has a lecture to deliver to residents. We had been hoping for a Tuesday or Wednesday retrieval, but she fears it will be too late by then. She also noted that I will be under conscious sedation so I will basically out of it for the procedure anyway. Between my streams of tears, I heard her to mean you don’t have to deal with him anyway and he’s very good at this technical part so you are in good hands. I have decided to chant for him–for his skillful retrieval of my eggs and for both of us to tap into our highest selves tomorrow. Small steps for big dreams. I have done harder things I remind myself.

So tomorrow it’s seven follicles, two women, one doctor and twenty minutes with no commercial interruptions. I’m slightly nervous but eager to get this part over and hoping for good results. It is again one a.m (my bewitching hour) and poor mulberry is again up waiting because she fears if she goes to bed without me, I’ll just stay in the living room and be up half the night.  She’s right.   I’m signing off.

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Complex Chemistry

Posted by dakota on July 17, 2008

I am cranky today.
Mulberry is in California for the next ten days. Shenandoah is not feeling well and is staying home for a second day. I have my second acupuncture session before work. And we need a new refrigerator.

I’ve been reading blogs all morning. Found a hilarious one called Vet Mafia Bloggers and it definitely gave me a laugh. A gangsta laugh if you will — shout out to them for it. And then I felt sad as I wished for a moment that we lived in a place where we didn’t just give lip service to mom and apple pie but where people could actually take whatever time we need from whatever else we are doing to have babies/adopt babies, care for them, help them grow into valued adults, and really take care. I have mentioned to mulberry that we could always try to live in Denmark. It is where the most content/happy people in the world live, according to a recent survey. The high taxes they pay support the intellectual development of individuals and their familial/social relationships. Childcare, elder care, higher ed, vocational ed, time off to care for a sick loved one–all subsidized. But I know it’s not a panacea. We still have to work for change here. Neither of us speaks Danish. And I would probably miss the complex-harried-personal-public-confidential-souped up-attitudinal-peaceful New York Beautiful that I so love and loathe sometimes.

Personal and confidential are words I relate to. They were the sticker on the package that came yesterday filled with new pharmaceuticals. Shenandoah helped me unpack and take photos. The fridge to our new place is too small to keep all our food much less our new legal drugs which contain the powerful ovulatory inducing chemistry toward life which withers without a cold pack. So there I was, crankily making room on precious shelf space while worrying can I really do this? Find the space, the right balance in myself? Find the calm and the fortitude to put my body (and mulberry’s) through what it may take to increase our family? I need space for food.

Cranky.

And then there’s my chi and the acupuncture. The acupuncturist I met for the first time on Monday seemed nice enough, but I couldn’t relax and let it flow, as it were, since I was so uptight with the seemingly inexperienced masseuse poking my back while I lay there with needles in my hands. Mulberry said, “baby it’s just like sex. You have to speak up and say what you want.” She’s right but, unlike my first consensual sexual experience, here I just wanted out. I didn’t ask the practitioner enough questions either. It took all the energy I had driving through the city at rush hour, trying to find a parking space, trying to not be late and then explaining to a new someone the science and stresses of what may be ailing me and keeps preventing me from carrying babies to term. I want to cry.

Last night Shenandoah dreamed Madonna signed our shower curtain. We don’t have a shower curtain — we have a pre-war style separate shower and tub — but we could have one and if Madonna signed it we know it would be valuable. Maybe Shenandoah is channelling an important message here. We don’t need Madonna (an external) to affirm what we don’t have — we need to have what we have and valuable surprises may ensue.

Maybe.
But surprises can go many ways.
Cranky.

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