Sunday, January 4, 2009

Busily slamming tequila shots, pounding coffee, taking baths, downing soft cheese, putting away the sushi, + lapping up the codeine cough syrup.

Fuck. Damn. Shit. Kaka. Poopoo. Waaaah. And just plain, sad. But not defeated.

When Dr. Li has bad news to deliver, he's nice enough to telegraph--giving a heads up to prepare you for the blow to come. Dan could tell by watching my face the news wasn't good--my exaggerated scowl kept him filled in during the call. But I didn't ball like I thought I would. I was quite calm hearing the info (something about 1%ish HCG).

The most hubris I've had with this whole thing was optimistically adding the "Made in Taiwan"* part to my blog title. I don't expect it to work. Chances are, it won't. Like I said before, we're in Vegas, baby. At least I'm done brewing hordes of eggs in one fell swoop. It was extremely trying--esp. while also having acute bronchitis. We still have our 13 frozen embryos. So we'll roll the dice doing one or two IVF/FET cycles. The good news is by the time we can start the FET cycle, my OHSS will have simmered down, and we've shown ourselves we can weather the ever-tiresome BFN should the 100,000th come our way.

While struggling with being infertile is heartbreaking and by no means do I wish my "peace" with it to be misinterpreted as not feeling the pain of it, I continue to count my blessings in all the other areas of my life that are banging on all fours--keeping it all in perspective.

So tomorrow I shall go through the motions and have my blood drawn yet again to have them confirm what I'm pretty certain won't go shooting up beyond that promising 1%ish quote I got on Saturday evening. Maybe I'll turn the lemons into lemonade and have them, since my skin will have been pierced anyway, fin-fucking-ally tell me what the fuck kind blood type I have. Latent anger about my results? NO. This is venting frustration over the fact that over the course of the whole 7 years we've been waiting for our elusive 2 lines, not once has my blood been tested for type. Or if it has, why, for the love of GAWD don't I know what the hell blood type I have? Sheeeeeeesh.

In the mean time, I shall continue to shoot progesterone up my cooch. But will continue to find consolation in: Busily slamming tequila shots, pounding coffee, taking baths, downing soft cheese, putting away the sushi, + lapping up the codeine cough syrup. And possibly buying tickets to see:

*"Made in Taiwan." I will tell you what I know for a fact (rubber on bottom embossed with ubiquitous imprint proves it) I will be bringing home that was "made in Taiwan":
My void-filling, shopping therapy, brand spanking new tall black boots. So there.


  1. I hear you about that perspective, that doesn't kill the pain, but keeps it from destroying the rest of your life.

    Well, wish I could say otherwise, but enjoy that sushi, brie, and booze. Cold comfort, but comfort, nonetheless.

  2. Thanks for your support. I really appreciate you taking the time to comment.

    Is mid-afternoon drunkenness acceptable?...

    Haven't even brewed coffee today. Just pathetically prancing around the apartment in my new boots.

    I'll check out your site now.