How I'm Doing (and a Plea for Advice if You're Patient Enough To Read Through to The End)

Charlotte was kind enough to ask how I'm doing with the decision to take a break. And it's a well-timed question.

I haven't been posting on this blog much lately. Co has been nagging me to post, but I haven't felt like I have much to say. Co delivers the TTC news, both because, well, it's her body, and because she works from home and has the chance to blog (I am so not blogging at school).

But another reason I've felt kind of silent is because I've been feeling like this is Co's journey. I'm the one who started the blog, and from the beginning I've been engine behind our TTC adventure. Not that Co doesn't want a baby -- she definitely does -- but because that's the way we work. I'm the planner, the organizer, the one who found our apartment and planned our wedding. So I started out last January (oh yes, almost a year has passed; but that's another post) seeking out donors and researching sperm banks and reading books about how to sperm up your loved one.

And then Co started inseminations. Our single KD insem felt very mutual, because that KD is my cousin and the three of us did a lot of talking, and I was the, uh, inseminator. I got to research methods, and procure needleless syringes, and sneak around my cousin's wedding. Since then, however, the insems have been all about Co: measuring her follicles, and the RE inserting the sperm in a stressful and painful environment over which I have no control. Don't get me wrong, I'm not jealous of Co, but I am feeling cut out of the process. It's not about US anymore, somehow. Each month she goes through anxiety and stress about the size of her follicles, and then the increasing slap and ache of the negative. And I comfort her and hold her and assure her that everything is going to be okay, while quietly I keep losing hope, and need someone to tell ME it's going to be okay.

And the external pressures have been wearing at me, making it harder and harder to be there for Co. I went in this journey towards parenthood full of optimism, knowing it would be long and circuitous and might not end up how I expected. But the crushing disappointment of the perfect KD who said no....and then the agony of being lapped by my younger sister...and then the perfect KD who lives half a world away....I've lost the sense of my own timetable. I feel like I'm running as fast as I can but I'm still helpless, I'm still falling hopelessly behind. I've lost the feeling of having time and choices and joy.

All of which led to my breakdown yesterday. I told Co repeatedly that she could take a month off (and meant it every time); when she actually decided to do it, I dissolved. The increasing depression and pessimism of the past 6 months suddenly overflowed, and I had a huge bratty sobbing tantrum. *I* *don't* need a break. I need the continued hope that in two weeks, we could be trying again to make a baby. This month would have been my last try to have a baby before I turn 33, a silly personal goal of mine since my own mom was 32 when I was born. Co needs her break, and she shall get it. But I just couldn't keep my own pain under wraps any longer.

Today I feel better than I have in months (like, since July). I think it was really, really, really good to finally be honest with Co, to admit that I have feelings too and have been so unhappy.

Which brings me to the advice portion of my post. We've thought of a compromise idea: trying at home with sperm from the bank. It seems like an awful longshot, given that IUI with Clomid hasn't worked (twice)...adding the extra impediment of the vajayjay, and our non-expert defrosting and insertion skills, hardly seems like good protocol. But on the plus side, Co would feel relaxed about because she wouldn't have go to the RE to get her follies checked; I would feel good because I would be inserted back into the process, as sperm-wrangler (and researcher). And I would get to be active this month, instead of taking a break that (to me) is unwanted.

There is also a guy we have toyed with asking to be a KD. However, I think (?) it would be too soon to try with him this cycle, so while we may or may not pursue this latest thought, we wouldn't have fresh sperm for a try this cycle.

But is that an awful lot of money for something that seems sure not to work?? Any thoughts?? (And, you know, I'm more than open to comments about the rest of the babble that has suddenly burst from my floodgates...except for that stuff about "You'll get your baby." I really don't believe that crap.)

Non-Photo Friday: I is for IUI

What else could I be for? But no. We're not taking a picture.

We're at 2 dpo and we're both feeling hopeful. Last time around we felt pretty negative from the beginning, but this time we both feel we could be in the game.

I have a list of reasons, which I am far too superstitious to post now, but will reveal once we know one way or the other.

It's good to be hopeful. But the TWW is torturous.

Belated Photo Friday: H is for Holiday

Here's some photo evidence of holiday cheer around the O household.


Tree 2006. It's not a real tree (Co is allergic) but doesn't it look great? This Jew can't tell the difference! And Co even indulges me with my Tree-In-A-Can, a candle that smells like real spruce. Mmmmm.... In this picture you can see the stockings hanging on the bedroom door, and if you look closely, a few of the South Park ornaments. Heh heh.

Though we will be a Jewish family, Co's culture includes this celebration, and I enjoy being a part of it. Who wouldn't want an evergreen full of lights at this time of year?


We live across the street from a park, and this year the two columns at its entrance are decorated with these festive blue lights.


And of course, the Holiday Hound. Oh, Mom, not the ears again!!

Six Weird Things About Lo

I've never been tagged in the blogosphere before, so I offer Brooke my greatest thanks for making me feel like one of the cool kids. I give you 6 weird things about Lo (with a little help from my wife, who kept insisting, "But you're not weird." Yeah, right).

1) I like to read several books at a time. Often I have a novel, a work of non-fiction, and a young adult novel (my excuse is that I teach 7th grade; the truth is that I never stopped reading kids' books) going at the same time. I like the variety. As a kid I used to make stacks of up to six books and read a chapter at a time.

2) I can play any song I hear (on the flute or recorder, my instruments of choice). This might be my early Suzuki piano training. I was taught to play piano, at age seven, only by ear. I was never taught to read music, which frustrated me to no end so I taught myself how to read the treble clef so I could play through my mom's Rodgers and Hammerstein and Song Fest on my own. My dad says his mom, who was a piano teacher, had perfect pitch (which I do not have!). I am no great musician, but I enjoy playing.

3) I hate carbonated beverages. They do not quench my thirst. (Co says I am the only Jew on earth who does not like seltzer.) This also means I don't really like soda. When I was in Europe -- and this was over ten years ago so things may well have changed -- it was very very hard to find non-carbonated water. I learned to say non-carbonated in Polish. (Niegazowana, in case you're interested.)

4) I prefer dogs that are short and long. You've all seen the famous Maggie Mae (and a lucky few have met the beast!) and I grew up with a Welsh corgi. We got the corgi because I fell in love with my grandparents' corgi. I will have to post both corgis' pix at some point...I do love oddly-proportioned canines.

5) I am a Luddite. I do not own an mp3 player of any kind and I don't even use my computer to listen to music (when we burn CDs we use Co's). I own a record player and a used amplifier my dad got me because I prefer to feel the weight of the radio tuner as I turn it. I hate the digital kind. (I'm going to have to fold because it's not working so well, but I'm dragging my heels.) We do have a DVD player, a gift from my mom, but I maintain that both VHS and audiocassette are much more practical media. You can't continue to add material to CDs or DVDs. I far, far prefer editing tape (I've worked in radio) by hand than by computer. It's just so much less....tactile. I'm not convinced that progress is always for the best.

6) I am always hot. I have been known to go outside in a T-shirt in 30 degree weather. My dad tells a story of me going swimming on Cape Cod in December. This leads to some arguments with Co -- who is always cold -- about opening the windows. Since we live in an overheated city apartment, I don't put the T-shirts away all year round.

I tag anyone who wishes to reveal six weird things! And you'll get to hear Co's weird things eventually too, since she's been tagged, too. :-)

My F-ing Family

So, we were supposed to go meet my nephew this weekend. We were supposed to go last weekend, but I was sick (got antibiotics on Thursday). I've been dragging around with this same cold for about a month. Ugh.

My sister emailed me that she had to go to her nephew's birthday party, and a benefit at the theatre she and her husband run. Okay, fine (although she found out about the birthday party after we planned our visit, and told us as much); I don't expect much more from my sister. After demanding we come up to see a show at the theatre one spring, she didn't visit with us because she had to weed her garden.

My mom and my sister live 10 minutes from each other and we were going to stay with my mom anyway. So I asked my mom if we could just spend Saturday with her and see my sis on Sunday. No, we couldn't, because my mother also had to attend the same birthday party and benefit (my mom, too, found out about the birthday party after we planned our visit....and my sister's nephew is not even technically related to my mom. And my this theatre has shows every week. Every f-ing week. And my mom lives ten minutes away).

My dad is visiting my sister for the second time in two months around Thanksgiving. I last saw my dad in June.

Both my mom and my sister expect us to come next weekend, which is when Co might get her period. After all of the loving support they've offered during this difficult time for us (and especially considering the outpouring of attention I expect when I produce a non-biological child for them), I think I'll schedule a weekend around the twelfth of never.

I never, ever dreamed my family would be like this.

Purple-Orange Fish

So the deed is done. A purple-orange fish made friends with Co in the waiting room at the fertility clinic...

It was all pretty routine. I hate seeing Co in pain but it went quickly. The count of this sample was 60 million, and we're hoping Co released three eggs. Sounds like pretty good odds, but who knows??

So into the TWW we go.

Photo Friday: B is for Birthday

Today is mine.


This is me on (or within a few days of) my first birthday, out on a walk with my mom and my pull-toy doggie (the only one they let me have until my eleventh birthday).

I am now 32. Several of you have blogged about the emotional weight of turning 30. I wasn't so worried about turning 30 -- I've always felt old for my time, so it felt right to finally be such a solid age as 30. The year I turned 30 I got my first driver's license, got married, and got tenure at my job. I felt accomplished.

For me, 32 is the real deadline, because my mom was 32 when I was born. In fact, she had just turned 32 a few weeks before, so I have long been unable to fulfill the assumption I always made that I would have children at the same age as my mother.

So, I'm not feeling so psyched about this birthday. Another year down the drain. Crap.

My Mom

My mom is driving us crazy.

Poor Co actually hung up on her today. I don't know if I would dare to do that, myself.

First of all, every time she talks about our new nephew she needs to talk about his family resemblance to "our family." Which is starting to grate on both of us, since our own child (should we ever have one) will not look like "our family." I am not such a big fan of my looks that I really care so much about passing them on, and I am dying to have a baby that looks like Co. (And at least in theory I am going to have a biological child down the line.) I just think my mom could maybe say that less to us. (Admittedly, maybe there is not so much else to say about a creature that only eats, sleeps, craps, and pees.)

Second of all, whenever the subject of TTC comes up, she brings up examples of heterosexual infertility. WE DON'T CARE. Of course, there exists het infertility, and we feel akin to you all out there, but honestly? That does not make our lives easier. That does not take away trigger shots in the belly, hoo ha bullets, ultrasounds every 20 minutes, and the pain of failure. Mom does not know about these things, but for all the bragging she does about all the lesbian parents she knows, it would not be so hard for her to find out.

So, I am feeling weary and cross and like you in the computer are the only people I ever want to talk to again. Bleh.

Photo Friday: A is for Aunt

As I mentioned (well, buried) in an earlier post, Co and I became aunties this week. My nephew S. was born October 15, 7 lbs, 13 oz. (I won't type his full name here, but for those of you familiar with the Bible...let's hope they never cut his hair.)

I have such mixed feelings about it all. I want to be a mommy, not an auntie. I am cross that I was "lapped" (Charlotte's term) by my younger sister. She announced her pregnancy a month or so after we had begun discussions with our first failed KD (and shortly after we had gotten the big "no"). In the space of a day or two, I had to cope with re-adjusting our conception plans, and with realizing that I would not be providing my parents the first granchild. To top it off, sis has continually been insensitive about how difficult and complex this experience is for us where it was easy for her.

But S. is a cute little guy, as you can see. In the picture above he reminds me *so* much of my sister as a baby and (to my relief) I'm feeling some affection. I'm actually looking forward to meeting him and holding him....of course, I am a huge sucker for an infant.

So I am settling, if uneasily, into aunthood.

(Alternatively, A could stand for a**....and I can't wait to kiss this little one below!!)

Every Sperm Is Sacred

We watched part of Monty Python's The Meaning of Life last night, and were treated to this little ditty.

I pointed out that for what we pay for it, it sure ought to be sacred.

Co, being the mathematician in the family, figured out that since there were 30 million little fellas in our Blue Fish IUI sample, and we paid $450 for the vial....each sperm cost $0.000015.

A bargain at twice the price. Let's just hope one of them did the job.

Symptoms, Aunt-hood, and Vehicles

Co has been gassy and nauseated. Is that good?? (Co is not counting chickens, because, she insists, she has been gassy and nauseated before and has never been pregnant.)

We are supposed to call Dr. Quick on the 23rd if she hasn't gotten her period (I assume for one of those mysterious betas). FF predicts her period a few days before that.

In other news, my sister had her baby today. If one more relative calls me and says "Hello, Auntie" I am going to pitch the phone across the room. Oh, boy. I'm a lesbian aunt. How unheard of. I am in no mood to be defined by my sister's fertility.

I don't feel like a very good person for not being more excited.

Our big news is that we pick up our "new-to-us" car on Tuesday night. It's a 2003 Saturn Ion, silver-blue. With both a CD player and a tape deck! (I honed right in on the important details.) I'll post pictures.

I might even post pictures of my nephew S (since my sister and her husband have a self-aggrandizing website where they plan to post his visage all over the Internet, I don't see why I shouldn't. But I don't have any pix yet).

IUI: Code Name Blue Fish

So, Co has decided to name our tries (reminiscent of Sacha), though we didn't name our fresh attempt. This one is "Blue Fish," both because Co was clad all in blue when we did it, right down to her shark socks; and because she made friends with a little blue fishie in the fertility clinic's big calming fish tank while we waited for *an hour* to get the deed done. The little blue fish kept swimming near Co and opening and closing its mouth in little "o"s (you know, like the little O we're trying to make) and had a cute fishie wiggle. So if this one works (everything crossed!!) the little one gets a blue fish stuffed animal.

The IUI itself was incredibly fast. Thank you, Dr. Quick. As Co indicated in her previous post, the speculum is never fun, but the cathether was tiny and virtually irrelevant in terms of pain. Dr. Q only had her lie down for 5 minutes afterward, though I've read elsewhere of people having to stay prone for up to 20 minutes. P the Lab Guy, a.k.a He Who Defrost and Washes Sperm, was very nice, and happily told us that there were 30 million of the little guys in our sample (which I believe was only .5ml).

It was all so quick, Lo didn't even have time to corner Dr. Quick with her millions of questions. I did ask him if this ever works the first time, to which he replied, "Of course." Oh, you optimistic RE, you! So here are some of my questions for you, oh blogosphere:
1) Co had two large follicles, one on each ovary. Might the trigger shot have caused both to release?
2) Co found a statistic that, on average, one ovulates 41.5 hours after a trigger shot. Any commentary on that?

Photo Friday: Water & Uncomfortable

For water, I offer a picture of the beach that was our backyard for a week in the Virgin Islands (St. Croix) this summer. What a blissful honeymoon. Look at the color of that water...and it was warm as a bathtub.


A bonus water picture: a horse swimming at that same beach. I had never seen a swimming horse before. But I guess it's a good way for them to cool down in the sweltering summer.



And now for uncomfortable:



(Didn't think I could go that long without posting a picture of the first baby, did you?) The mommies think the reindeer antlers are just adorable, but as you can see, Maggie does not agree. In this picture she is using her paw to push me away while I held them in place. Every year we get a few quick pix before we put her out of her misery.

Alternatively, I could have posted a picture of Co's butt hormones. But we don't pick them up 'til tomorrow, and also, she would kill me.

Adventures in Synagogue

(Actually, my congregation meets in a church, but my adventures in church are an entirely different post...)

I was asked this year to give one of the speeches asking people to donate money. (This is less offensive than it sounds because my congregation, unlike every other synagogue in this neighborhood and many other places, does not requires expensive tickets or temple membership to attend high holidays services; we do request donations.)

People usually talk about their journey to the congregation in these speeches, and I was specifically asked by the rabbi to focus on LBGT visibility. She, like me, is a lesbian in an interfaith relationship. Just one thing I like about this place!

So I was kinda nervous and uncomfortable about telling my little story -- and especially about asking for money! -- but people complimented me afterwards and it ended up being nice to speak about myself to my community.

I noted that I love the congregation because I feel comfortable as a lesbian, and my non-Jewish wife also feels comfortable. I did not mention that my non-Jewish wife was not with me this morning because she was busy getting her follicle measured. Hee hee. But she's coming with me this afternoon. I can't even begin to explain how much it means to me, how much I love Co for wanting to raise our children Jewish, and for joining me in my tradition.

I'm not the most observant or reverent Jew, I certainly am not supposed to be blogging in the break between services on the holiest day of the year...but being Jewish is an inextricable part of who I am, and I am so happy that I have found a congregation where I can be my whole complicated self. And where I will be happy to bring my (cross fingers hard) children.

Now, scroll down to give Co and I advice about complicated medical techniques for conceiving said children....

Photo Friday: Windows

This window is at the aptly-named Riverview, where Co and I got married last August. The window itself isn't so spectacular, of course, but the grand sparkly river one can see through it is lovely. And any memory of our wedding makes me smile.

Photo, Uh, Tuesday: Lo's Stuff (with Sperm Washing News)

I'm a teacher, and this is the load I carry to school. I never stopped carrying a backpack, but went straight from student to teacher. My current powder blue one has many secret pockets, which is necessary because I've also never taken to carrying a purse. I do have a "weekend purse" so I don't always show up shlepping the backpack (but I would if I thought I could get away with it).

The tote bag was a free gift at a Liberty game (yes, I have paid my lesbian dues!) and I do not always bring it, just the days (like today) when I have extra materials.

I included the shiny binder in the pic because it's, well, shiny. That was my new school year treat from CVS.

NOTE: In other news, while making copies in the school office today I received a call from the lab and had to duck into the stairwell to discuss the washing of sperm. As Cali accurately reported, it is okay to wash sperm multiple times. You might lose a few in the process, but motility will only be increased. Phew. (As the lab guy asked me somewhat indignantly, "You think I would do something to make you not pregnant?" Well. I should hope not.)

The Fat Lady's Warming Up...

Co's temp dipped today. Now we really have to decide who to order up from the bank...Scroll down to weigh in.

Oh, well. At least now I can say I've seen, you know, semen.

Donor Roulette

We are trying desperately to narrow ourselves down to one donor. (The fat lady hasn't sung yet. Co is due to get her period this weekend. It's been a long cycle, due to delayed ovulation....if I didn't know so much about charting, I'd be all excited that she hasn't gotten her period yet, but alas, I know it's nothing notable.)

So here are the two finalists:

Funny Guy: He is half Jewish, half Irish & something else. This makes him a mixture of both of our ethnicities (and since we'd try to use the same donor to get me knocked up down the line, that's attractive). He is into Asian philosophy (as am I) and just seems like a generally nice person (the sperm bank faculty recommended him as being intelligent with a sense of humor). He's a researcher in molecular pharmacology. And, as indicated by his nickname, his whimsical sense of humor shone through in his profile. A drawback: there is some alcoholism in his family (maternal grandmother) and that makes Co uncomfortable because of genes on her side. We've negged lots of donors as soon as we saw any family history of substance abuse, but we got really into this guy somehow before we noticed it, so now she (and I) are torn.

Nerdy Science Guy: He is neither of our ethnicities. He's a genetic researcher, and a self-described science nerd (we both find that charming). He was also recommended by our lovely sperm brokers as a genuinely nice person, intelligent with a sense of humor. He has a son, who he writes about very affectionately. He's artistic as well as brainy.

So, I am begging for any advice or ass-vice. I didn't think the ethnicity stuff mattered to me, and we aren't at all concerned about looks. Our initial first choice donor (Corgi Guy) did not share either of our ethnicities and I would have happily gone with him. But somehow, faced with these two choices, it seems to matter a little bit.

Help...

Our Weekend of Sperm

So, after much advice from my friend J, who is a health professional, as well as our friendly neighborhood nurses on blogger, we came up with a strategy about the hepatitis issue. We asked KD about a variety of risk factors, and we were reassured by his answers, so we decided to go ahead with insemination.

This weekend Co was likely to ovulate, and we had to go up to Boston for a wedding -- fortunately it was KD's younger brother's wedding! On Saturday Co's temp dipped, so when we got into Boston, we did the deed. We got the spike on Sunday, and we insemmed again this morning (Monday) (the wedding was on Sunday and our KD best man was a bit busy!).

All went smoothly, as far as I can tell. We had great advice from dear blogger friends, as well as our trusty books, about how to take care of business. We even got a free oral syringe from Walgreens!

KD and his wife were both incredibly generous and even eager to help us out with timing. There was a bit of cloak-and-dagger to it all, since we were around ALL of our (and KD's) family, and we don't intend to share our plan until later on (if it even works). Co and I were staying in a hotel room *right next to my mom*, but fortunately she was out during both of our insems. THAT would have been quite an experience. Though we did get to exchange the mysterious Macy's bag with the cup in front of his grandmother. Hoo boy.

Sneaking around with sperm also made it much easier to be around my eight-month pregnant belly-rubbing little sister.

Oh, and by the way, the wedding was lovely too. My cousin's new bride (who has essentially been in the family for six years) is a great person.

So, here we go....since Co's luteal phase is usually exactly 14 days, we are officially in our first Two Week Wait. AAAAAAAAAH!

Photo Friday: Show Me Your Politics

This first photo is of my friend's daughter at the big Pride March on Washington in April 2000. A group of us: Whimsy, SandraMort, and a bunch of other folks went down in a big van (SandraMort's I believe) and stayed overnight in one hotel room. It was great fun. And little E showed her early proclivities for queer rights! (That's me holding her. I'm wearing my shirt that says "gay maidl" in both English and Yiddish. "Maidl" means "girl.")



This second photo brings the theme right home...


It was taken a few years ago (1999) at the ten-year reunion of World Peace Camp. The folks on the steps of the dining hall are the members of the orchestra for our camp musical, called, what else, Peace Child. (We named our little band No Respect, and wrote a parody of "Imagine" about suffering in the orchestra pit.) Yes, I really went to World Peace Camp when I was 14. What more is there to say, really.