IS THERE A "BURBERRY ANONYMOUS" SUPPORT GROUP?

Luckily I took a vacation day today, in case of a hangover from last night's festivities. It is as if I knew when I requested the day off three weeks ago that the IUI would be unsuccessful. So, when I finally was starting to not feel so hung over, I pulled myself off the couch and decided to go get my morning Starbucks, around noon.

That cup of coffee cost me over three-hundred dollars.

I have mentioned before that Burberry is my one big weakness. I can't help it, I just love their stuff. I sometimes have guilt about spending my hard earned money on their ridiculously overpriced stuff, but at the same time I am reminded of one of my FAVORITE episodes of Sex and the City - the one where Carrie gets shoe-shamed. To summarize, a friend of Carrie's who has children reprimands her for spending so much money on a pair of shoes. Carrie, at first accepting this guilt, quickly gets over it and justifies her ridiculous spending on the fact that she has no children to support and therefore if she wants to spend her money on "whatever," it is her prerogative. And she shouldn't be shamed for doing so. She even decides to "marry herself" and registers at Manolo Blahnik for shoes. Awesome!

Anyhow, feeling slightly groggy, my car just sort of side-tracked off the path of Starbucks and right into the parking lot of the Outlet shops. Into the Burberry outlet I headed as if on autopilot. I usually check in here every month or so, hoping that they will have something good, but they never have the nice stuff that is found on the Neiman Marcus website or in their flagship stores. It always seems to be the reject Burberry stuff, the stuff that no one really wants to buy anyway.

However, as I was looking at what appeared to be the same old stuff as last month, I noticed a shelving unit where a woman was carefully stocking all the "good" bags - the ones the outlet store just never seems to have. My heart began to race, as I saw her reach into a box and pull out THE BAG I have been eyeing for two months. She placed it on the bottom shelf where it sat for all of two and a half seconds until I ran over and grabbed it.

MINE!

So, yeah, I have a spending problem when it comes to Burberry. And I will knock it off the day I have kids, but for now, no guilt, this is a little present to myself. And who am I kidding? If I do have children they will of course have to have at least ONE Burberry outfit!!!

Speaking of handbags, I may have a proposition for some of my friends out there in blog world, but that will have to wait for another day. But I may be willing to make some of you an offer you can't refuse.*


*quote in honor of the late "Don" Vito Corleone, better known as Marlon Brando. Weird guy, great actor.

"PREGNANCY" HAS LEFT THE BUILDING, AND THE OLD DAWN HAS TAKEN HER PLACE

So, Anthony and I first met at work. We were an "office romance," a secret one for about a year and then a very public thing for the next five years. More than half the company came to our wedding as a matter of fact. When I decided to leave my job, I was extremely apprehensive because, after all, the only situation Anthony and I were EVER in was working together. Here we were, now married, and we had no idea what it would be like to not see each other at work every day, no idea what it would be like to work at separate companies. Like any major change, I worried that it might have a lasting effect on our marriage.

It turns out that it did, but for the better. We have grown much closer as a result of not having the same workplace as a common denominator. But, having worked there for six and a half years, I was leaving some good friends who, to this day, I still miss dearly. I comforted myself with the knowledge that I would still be able to go to the annual summer "open house party," now as Anthony's wife rather than as employee. This annual bash had a long track record of being one of the best parties in the city of Boston - well, at least in our opinion! They fill the parking lot of the company with sand, and install a makeshift boardwalk, live palm trees and a the wreckage of a stranded sailboat. "Snack Shacks" with flowing frozen drinks were everywhere you looked, a live band played under a tent surrounded by a buffet that could feed a small country. Average annual attendance was 600 people.

I left the company two years ago. Last summer, the party was cancelled due to the state of the economy. I wondered if it would ever be brought back, and if I would ever get an opportunity to see all my old colleagues again in this happy venue.

Well, the annual (except for last year) bash returned last night. For weeks and weeks Anthony and I have commiserated about how tough it was going to be to attend this party and not have any alcohol. But, we'd do it, because we have to, we are rules-followers after all.

One hour before I was heading to Boston for the party, I got the phone call from the clinic. They were calling with the results from the second pregnancy test.

"Dawn....I'm afraid you've now dipped to a negative number. Since you are under a two, we now consider you officially a negative."

"Okay," I say, not terribly shocked.

"Please stop taking your progesterone, and call us on day 1 of your next cycle in order to start your next IUI cycle."

And that was that. I was oh-so-faintly pregnant for about a day, and now it was no more. I sat at my desk, kind of shrugged, and started to shut down my PC.

And then I had a thought.

I called the blood room at the clinic back.

"Um, this is Dawn again. I just wanted to know, do we HAVE to do another IUI cycle immediately? I mean, is it the couple's discretion whether or not they may want to take a month off and start again with the FOLLOWING cycle?"

"Of course it is up to you, if you want to wait then just call us on day one of the next cycle, no problem."

So with that, I hung up with the clinic, called Anthony to let him know the news.

"I'm on my way. Go pour yourself a beer, and have a margarita ready for me when I get there."



It sucks for sure, but we'll try again next month. The party was great, and for one small moment I started to feel like my old self. Drink in hand, hanging with my old friends, tearing it up on the dance floor - it was just what I have needed for a long time - what we BOTH needed. I started to feel like Dawn again - not trying-to-get-pregnant-and-thinking-of-nothing-else-Dawn, I just felt like MYSELF. I felt like the Old Dawn, the Dawn who didn't know anything about infertility and the havoc it can wreak on one's emotions.

It felt really, really good.

Now...if I can just get rid of this hangover......

IGNORAMUS

The "I" is for Ignoramus.....or Imbecile.....or Idiot....Hmm, I guess that would also make me a D.I.C.(head)?

All right, so maybe I am being a little hard on myself. But I am feeling like a true moron these past 24 hours. I may have slightly over-reacted yesterday (understatement of the year) but how could I really help it?

The comedy of errors that went on for me to get my test results notwithstanding, I am surprised I didn't lose it even worse yesterday. Verizon, our local telephone company, had a voice mail outage right around the precise time I was supposed to be getting the phone call from the clinic. I prefer to have the clinic call me at home and leave me a voicemail, rather than deal with these phone calls in the non-privacy of my workplace. Let's couple that with the fact that I am the lone female in my department, I am sure that the guys in the cubicles surrounding mine appreciate being spared from conversations such as "How many times per day should I insert the vaginal suppositories? Twice? Okay....and I will have symptoms similar to menstrual cramps? All right, good to know." Yeah. So when voicemail went out, the clinic had to call me at work. As a rule, if I am not sitting at my desk, I am in the ladies room. I don't usually have a lot of other places to be during the workday, so you can reach me by phone 99.99999% of the time. But of course, I missed their call. We (the clinic and I) proceeded to play phone tag for the next hour. I felt like a stalker, to be quite honest, as I kept hitting redial, over and over, and hanging up when it went to voicemail AGAIN. (They must not use Verizon, lucky bastards.)

So here is why I felt then, and still feel now, like an imbecile. I finally got a live person on the phone at the clinic and I am thinking 'here it is, the ANSWER. Positive or negative, congratulations or we're sorry, but either way, an answer awaits me.'

"Dawn? We have your results."

"Yes........?" I am holding my breath.

"It's a Six."





Um....I don't know what she is talking about. And I am so instantly ashamed of myself that I don't know what she is talking about. I don't even know enough about this very situation that plagues me...why have I not read every piece of information that exists out there on infertility so that I would know what the hell a GOD-DAMNED Six means?

Finally, I say to the nurse, "Um, I don't know what that means. What does a six mean?"

"Your beta is a six. We like to see it between 50 and 100. And you are a six. That is extremely low."

I now feel even more idiotic. AND frustrated. I feel like I do when am talking to one of those jerks at Jiffy Lube, when I ask "So how much is this going to cost?" and they reply with "Well your carburetor needs a thingamabob and the air filter needs a new widget and the whatdyacallit should be flushed." As though this is an adequate answer to my pricing question. Answer a "what does it cost" question with a dollar figure, please, and answer a "pregnancy-test-results" question with a "you're pregnant" or "you're not." Please.

I took the nurses emphasis on my extremely low beta count to mean that the test was negative. Except why wouldn't she just say THAT - that I am not pregnant?

"Dawn, continue taking your suppositories and come back to the clinic in two days for another blood test."

For some reason, this felt like a slap in the face. I think that in my attempt at self-preservation, I tried so hard to prepare myself for bad news that I wrapped it in the reassurance that "at least it would be an answer." I knew that one way or another I would get my answer. I even posted about the options I would have facing me at the end of the day yesterday. Except that wasn't what I got, and I just couldn't "deal."

Trying to mask my tears at work was oh-so-hard. The few female colleagues who knew what was going on instantly took my tears to mean that I got the answer I was not hoping for, but had been preparing for. To make it easier on myself I simply nodded to acknowledge their suspicions. I motioned that I couldn't talk today, let's talk tomorrow, 'kay?

Even on my blog, I just couldn't get into it. Here I had been, oh-so-smug, Miss Smarty-Pants, writing away about all the plans I would begin after my test results. How ignorant I felt yesterday afternoon. How could I not know that this was a possibility?

I forgot one key thing - being "infertile" means that I am not like other people. There will not be that pee-on-a-stick-and-wait-for-two-lines moment between Anthony and I. The pregnancy tests I get, as an infertile, are not clear cut. Anthony and I will not be privy to the kind of private, exciting "Oh my GOD we're pregnant" kind of moment. This will be long and drawn out, and medical all the way, and painful. Oh so painful.

Even if we ever get to that point that it "looks good" that there "may be" a viable pregnancy on the way, it will still be clouded with tests and daily monitoring and a sense that I will never fully be able to relax and accept that this is really happening to me because the whole process is just so precarious. I never realized that there could be varying degrees of pregnancy. I guess, if what my new friend Mandy says is true, then you could basically say that at the moment I am "practically-not pregnant." And that just doesn't sit right with me. I honestly think "not pregnant" would have been easier to accept.

Hey, I got the fairy-tale wedding, with ALL the bells and whistles. Therefore I guess I shouldn't complain, I just need to accept the fact that creating a child will be as lackluster a process as doing my taxes. In the end, THAT doesn't really matter, provided we get the actual child at the end of this tedious, clinical process.

I wonder if some day in the distant future I am ever going to emerge from our bathroom, little white stick in hand, turn to Anthony and say "You're NEVER going to believe this honey, we're gonna have a baby!" I can't even imagine that it happens for some couples in that way. But, it does. And for other couples, THIS that we are going through is the process. And it does, in fact, suck, but it is for a good cause - the BEST cause - so I must continually remind myself of that fact.

To my dear friends for reaching out to cheer me on yesterday morning and to comfort me in the afternoon, thank you SO MUCH. It truly helps to have you in my life. I appreciate your well-wishes more than I can express. If I ever have a baby I will name it after all of you. (Isn't that in-vogue now anyways, a name with fifteen or so hyphenations?)

So I will try to post tomorrow, at some point, with my latest test results. I really don't know what to expect now. The beta could be the same, or lower, or possibly higher, marginally or exponentially. There are an infinite number of possibilities tomorrow but one thing is now crystal clear - I am not going to know ANYTHING AT ALL until I know something FOR CERTAIN.

And that's just the way this is going to be. The waiting game continues.....

YOU'RE NOT PREGNANT, BUT IN CASE IT DOESN'T HURT ENOUGH TODAY, COME BACK IN TWO MORE DAYS FOR A SECOND TEST TO ABSOLUTELY CONFIRM THE NEGATIVE

Sorry, I just can't blog tonight.

Ha! Imagine if I allowed myself to actually get my hopes up!

I'll return to my normal self tomorrow, I hope. Just need to sleep on things.

NO...SORT OF

That's my answer for now. Will explain more later when I can get a grip.

I'M GONNA PUKE

I am having a wicked bout of nausea like nothing I have ever experienced before. I feel like total shit.

However, still refusing to acknowledge that this could be "anything," I think the nausea stems from the sheer terror of what today will bring.

I hope it passes. Anyways, I will know my fate in about 8 1/2 hours.

PLANNING FOR MY FUTURE (a.k.a. WEDNESDAY)

I have been having a hard time trying to decide what, if anything, I should post tonight. There is too much going on, and at the same time there is not really much going on. I don't want to bore anyone to tears, myself included, with the same old rants and crying and complaining about my lack of pregnancy. But let's face it, try as I might, it is the ONLY thing on my mind. Tomorrow is my sister's anniversary and I forgot to buy her and subsequently mail her a card, because I am thinking of no one but myself these days. And this constant "oh woe is me" attitude of mine is draining on everyone, ESPECIALLY me. So is there a point in posting tonight, when I am in such a particularly yucky mood?

Perhaps not, except that it may serve no other purpose but for me to sort out today's feelings. Not necessarily exciting, not necessarily worth reading, but nevertheless a place to organize my current thoughts and emotions. If anyone wants to bail at this point I DON'T BLAME YOU. I would have bailed after the first two sentences, personally. I still may.

Anyways, this entire process has turned Anthony and I into the ultimate pessimists. For example, at the moment I am technically "two days late," and this is NOT a common occurance for me. If anything I have been known to be early, but almost NEVER late. But I will not allow myself to entertain any thoughts that this could possibly MEAN something. After all, I have been very bitchy and PMS'y all week. After all, the odds of this working on our VERY FIRST IUI are 4.5%. After all, the world is against us and doesn't want us to have children. Fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twenty-five times, shame on ME. SHAME ON ME!

In fact, I am so convinced that being late couldn't possibly MEAN anything that I am furiously looking online to see if there is a correlation between the vaginal suppositories I am taking and delayed menstruation. Am I insane? I certainly don't think so.

And if for some reason I am wrong, and it DOES mean SOMETHING, I am going to feel like the biggest asshole for all my whining and complaining tonight. But I just feel it, I feel it in the pit of my stomach, that I couldn't possibly be pregnant.

Therfore, I've got plans. I've got big plans. I am PREPARED for the inevitable. There will be three potential outcomes from my bloodwork tomorrow morning.

1) Pregnant. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.....I won't even know what to say at that point, because it just seems so completely far-fetched at this point. Not going there.

2) Not pregnant, ready to start IUI #2 immediately. If this is the case we'll hurry up and order all of our meds and I'll begin the wonderful nightly injections and morning trips to the lab. No problem, actually, I sort of liked the structure and routine-ness of it all, and have missed that these past two weeks. (Missed it aside from the pain, that is).

3) Not pregnant and not ready to start IUI #2 until NEXT month. If I don't get option #1, I am actually hoping that this is the option I am handed. Here is where my BIG plans are.

There is a huge party at my husband's company (MY old company) on Thursday night, and if we cannot begin IUI right away I will most DEFINITELY be having SEVERAL cocktails that night, partying it up with old work-friends. That certainly sounds like a night that is LONG overdue for me. Then, on Friday morning I will begin Phase 1 of the South Beach Diet again. Time to kick it into high gear, I need to get rid of this excess FLAB. I will go for a run. Eh, who am I kidding, I will go for a run and after about twenty-seconds it will convert itself into a brisk walk. Still okay, though! I will start sewing again, seeing that I am falling very far behind on my craft-fair duties.

I have plans, things to do, people to see. It's all good. I will be fine when I get my bad news, really I will.

And if I get good news I will PROMISE PROMISE PROMISE I will stop bitching...............

for at least a week.

See, like I said, not much to say tonight. I am going to be awake all night, tossing and turning and worrying and thinking. The bad news is I was trying to stay late at work tonight to finish up a project that is due on Wednesday. I hit a major roadblock, which now means I HAVE to work late tomorrow. In other words, I will wait all day long, get the phone call at 4:30, and have to suppress my emotions (either way) for a WHILE since I won't be able to go right home and have a good cry (either way).

I can't wait for what the future holds. I can't wait for Wednesday to get here.