9 dpo

I confess - I've taken three of my ten pregnancy tests in the last three days. The night of 7 dpo I logged in to my new March 2014 babies board (yes, there is an active one already!) and saw several women with positives on that date, so I thought what the heck? Negative, of course. And negative the night of 8 dpo - and negative this morning.

But, gosh darn it if my body isn't freaking me out! Yesterday I was very nauseated all day - to the point of gagging when I brushed my teeth. Also could smell everything - I made a Greek omelette and could smell the feta long after it was gone; also made an English muffin and wanted to pass out from the smell of the yeast (when I was prego before I couldn't even walk down the bread aisle in the supermarket). This morning I also woke up nauseated. But...now I feel just fine. And a negative test. Hmmm.

All of this - the smells, the nausea - could be entirely due to the extreme heat we've had the last two days. It's been hard to do anything but sit in the air conditioning.

I never used the Dollar Store tests as the primary ones before - only as "am I still pregnant?" checks; but they do have the same sensitivity as the FRER ones so they should be just as accurate. And again, I may not even get a positive for several days. But I do feel my confidence shaken a little. This cycle could all be just a cruel mind fuck. 

So in an effort to formulate a plan so I can feel better in case this is a bust, I whipped out my fertility calendar. I can do August and September. Which leaves me with one vial. Then I have to pay almost as much in storage to keep it until March as it cost to buy it. So...can I swing October, too...? It would mean having a two month old at my next event. Not great. But honestly...not terrible, either. If I plan ahead, get the bulk of the work done in advance (totally doable), even bring in a secretary if I need help with the paperwork, etc...it can happen. It just makes sense to keep going until I use up all the sperm I paid for. Then if I want to regroup and keep trying in the spring, so be it. I feel a bit better thinking about that - not having that one vial left on ice, mocking me.

Oh, how will this all end? Why can't we have a crystal ball? Sometimes I feel like I'm outside myself watching my life unfold. "Interesting! She ended up not finding a great guy and instead had a baby by a sperm donor at 39. I wonder if she'll be able to have another?"

In other news, had a blast dancing last night. Here is a picture of me doing it:

Are you made of stone?

Some of you may be wondering why I'm not freaking out during this two week wait. The truth is I am - and I'm not.

I mean, really, there's nothing I can do but wait. Any tests now will only be negative, which could be true for several more days (or forever). I will probably take one for fun Sunday night - I got the faintest whisper of a line the night of 9 dpo with B, although by then I kind of knew anyway because all food was suddenly repulsive to me and the house smelled like garbage. I will test again Monday morning - but if it's still negative then, I may be out, although not necessarily. Period due Weds. So Monday-Wednesday are going to be the big days for me. 

How do I feel? Zero symptoms. No bloating/cramping/spotting/nausea/fatigue/breast tenderness. But I never felt any of that stuff at this time before, either. Remember, that baby has to dig in first, then it takes a while for those hormones to kick in and make you want to toss your cookies. Even if something is afoot, my body is blissfully ignorant of it right now. 

How do I feel emotionally? Well, pretty good. I mean there is a cockiness to my positivity - I keep asking myself, how could this possibly not work? But that's dangerous. I keep asking myself, how will you feel if this turns up negative? Maddeningly, frustratingly, inexplicably negative? When the timing was so perfect and I've already had a baby and I'm not that old yet, dammit? I think I'll be pretty gutted, even if it means that I can enjoy my Florida trip in July without fear of illness and maybe even get through my event with no sickness, and avoid having two kid birthdays right on top of each other. 

But a failure this time will bring back that ugly old feeling that most people who read this have probably known - that feeling of, what if I'm not successful? What if this never happens for me? What if I just have to walk away and tell all those people who know I'm trying that I couldn't do it? What if I have to have that moment of wondering what if I'd done an HSG, what if I'd done some mild injectables...maybe the dream of another baby could have been realized, instead of giving up? 

Really, though, it's SO different when there's already a baby. I don't at all feel that terrible sick feeling of "the universe hates me - it will never let me be happy", because as discussed I just don't feel like that anymore. The proof that the universe does not hate me is sleeping in the other room. 

So, I'm not successful. I can enjoy the peace and leisure a one child family can have. We can travel. B can have lots of fun activities, like that atheist summer camp I heard about. I can get rid of all the baby stuff. I don't have to change my will or life insurance. I don't have to have two children in preschool at once. B can be my one and only, my special little guy. 

It's not so terrible. Not at all. But here I am about to put my body through these baby making olympics one more time just so B can have a little buddy, someone other than mom. I do believe this is best for him. However, there are so many hurdles before this happens.

Getting a positive pregnancy test

Still having a positive pregnancy test a week later

Surviving the viability ultrasound, hearing that heartbeat

Surviving the first trimester

Surviving all the genetic tests

Surviving until viability day (24 weeks)

Surviving the third trimester 

Surviving the birth

Surviving those first vital days

That's a lot. But these are risks every woman takes, and every one of us survived ourselves to make it here. 

So, we wait. Sometimes I forget about it, sometimes thinking about testing sends a jolt of adrenaline through my body. It's exciting and scary, all at once. I'm afraid of so many things. But as mentioned, being afraid is not a good enough reason not to at least try.

Dollar store, how I love thee

Yesterday I put B in his playpen for a few minutes so I could get dressed and pack up for our trip to the park with the little creek in it. When I went to get him out, I discovered he was covered in poo. Yes. Bumpus has figured out how to take off his diaper.

I probably stared at him, blinking, for a full minute, while repeating over and over, "I don't even know what to do with that." Finally I figured out I should wipe his hands first so I could at least pick him up, so I did that, then cleaned him off with wipes and finally in the sink. Oh, the horror. How glad am I I wasn't nauseated at the time-! Then I had to clean the poo off the playpen and all the toys. Good times. The next time you visit friends with small children, keep in mind pretty much everything in their house has been touched by their child's bodily fluids. It just has.

This morning we had playpen time again, and once again, naked Bumpus, pee all over the playpen. Sigh. So I figured out to put a pair of well-fitting pants over his diaper so he can't slide his hands into it, or take it off. This seemed to work. Now to clean everything again.

Yesterday I met one of my meet up group friends at the creek park. I've decided since my meetup groups are falling apart, to instead connect with the friends I've made there privately. We had the usual chaotic toddler play date - kids all over the place, chasing them around while leaving our open purses unattended and leaving a trail of cracker crumbs, sippy cups and child shoes behind us. Her sixteen month old was a wealth of language - knew the names of everything and had full on conversations with his mother. Made me once again feel like we're seriously behind, and made me wonder what I should be doing differently to encourage B to talk. But then part of me feels like, just as with the walking and sleeping, he'll do it when he's good and ready. 

In the meantime, I bought these at the Dollar store today. Really, is there anything on earth more ghetto than waiting at the register at the Dollar store with ten pregnancy tests, while pushing your toddler in a stroller? I think not. 

June gloom

We're experiencing June gloom here in (normally) sunny So-Cal. This is a phenomenon I was unaware of until I moved here. Contrary to my perception of LA when I lived in New York, it is not, in fact, sunny and hot year 'round. That's Florida. We do actually have seasons. Our winter actually gets cold (30s at night, frost, etc), and some years it rains almost non-stop from November to March (although not recently). One thing you can count on, though, is the June gloom. It's a misty fog that comes off the Pacific and settles over the whole city until the afternoon, making for chilly, sleepy days right when the rest of the country is gearing up for summer. Today is one of those days - I just want to nap and drink strong cups of tea. 

I also woke up horribly nauseated. Before you get all excited, it is physically impossible for me to have any pregnancy symptoms at this point. No, it's because I'm an idiot and binged on ramen and peanut butter and honey when I got home from my gig last night. I keep forgetting I really can't do things like that anymore. I'm 40 and I really, really pay for it later. It did give me a window into how unpleasant it will be to be sick and dragged out of bed at 6 to clean up a poopy diaper and make scrambled eggs. Not that I haven't already considered this ad nauseum (no pun intended).

An update from yesterday, I re-read my father's email and also sent it to my sister, and we both felt I had overreacted a bit. So I'm very glad I didn't send him the angry, hateful response I'd drafted. Yes, he's a weirdo and yes, he drives me nuts when he tries to shame me for not responding quickly enough/in the way he'd like to things he sends or writes - and I absolutely hate this - but I don't need to bite his head off. Ok.

Then my friend left me a kind message where she said she was so sorry her son was throwing things and she hopes I understand she's still trying to figure out how to be a mother. I get it, I really do. We all make mistakes and our kids are never perfect little angels, and they all do things around other kids that embarrass us. I've got heaps of embarrassment ahead of me, I know. Lately every time I go to relieve B of his time in the playpen his little pecker is sticking up out of the top of his diaper because he's pulled it out and has been playing with it. That's going to go over well in preschool.

In the meantime, I have fleshed out babysitting duties during my event with my babysitter. She more or less agreed to stay in the hotel room with him during the four night dances - although I will try to find someone to relieve her so she can go enjoy herself, I don't know who that's going to be. I feel bad. Maybe I'll cut her a big fat check at the end of the weekend, which I don't think she's going to be expecting. Oh, it's going to be a rough year with a toddler! Thank God it's only a few days. And if I am pregnant, by then most of the worst of the sickness will be over. Inch'allah.

Hell is Others, part XVIII

Yeah, it's only 2 PM and it's already been "one of those days". Sometimes I just hate people, you know? Or maybe it's just situations that I hate. I'm having two of them right now.

One of them is with a friend I see occasionally who has a baby about two months older than B. The last few times we've gotten together have not been good. Her kid is really aggressive - mainly likes to grab food out of B's hands and throws things - hard - right at B's head. Today he even threw a rock at him! The mother wasn't oblivious and was obviously mortified, but she can't get him to stop, either. And this time B was really fed up. Every time the kid came near him he would just scream at the top of his lungs. He was so obviously not enjoying himself that I made a quick exit and am now safely ensconced in the peace and order of our own home. Now I have to figure out how to be conveniently busy every time she wants to hang out. Sigh. 

THEN on my way home I get this email from my erstwhile father. A couple of weeks ago he sent me a package. It was two hideous polyester polo shirts and three baseball caps with his horse ranch logo on them, and a little Brazilian soccer uniform for B (that will probably fit him in about three years). I wrote him an email thanking him for the package and saying I'll send him a pic of Bobby in the outfit. 

Well! I get an email from him today saying "as usual" I didn't even mention the polo shirts and baseball caps and if I don't like them I should just give them away. Then passive-aggressively mentions a picture I have on Facebook of B in his playpen and how he thinks it looks too small for him. Umm...what the fuck?

I felt this intense rage welling up in me after reading that. It's a rage only abused or neglected children feel - a rage that goes down so deep, I don't think you could find the bottom if you tried. It's a rage that makes me almost murder a cop when he pulls me over and gets all condescending and gives me a ticket, or quit a job immediately after being "reprimanded" for some stupid infraction I didn't even know was an infraction. It's a rage that makes me, right now, want to scream in his face, "YOU abandoned me and disappeared almost my entire childhood. Who the fuck do you think you are telling me anything?!?"

So. I'm going to let him HAVE IT. I also may unfriend and block him on Facebook. I just don't feel like I have any privacy anymore with him commenting on all my pictures and seeing everything I'm doing. I just don't like it. And if he goes off on a pout for years and doesn't talk to me, so be it. I'm always happier when I don't have to deal with him and his personality disorder anyway. 

So yeah, thank God for crazy parents who don't live in the same country, huh? I recently had thoughts of taking the kid(s) to Brazil someday to meet him but I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen now. There's a reason why this entire side of the family always hated him. It's because he's kind of a jerk.

And now I'm going to eat this, because it is awesome. 

Day one

Was surprised to find on my first trip to the toilet after the iui yesterday a LOT of blood. Like, bled through my underwear and jeans type blood. This hasn't happened before, but is still normal - obviously the catheter scraped my lining. There wasn't much after that and none today. A lot of unpleasant cramping, though. And almost forgot to put the progesterone in last night! I'm tempted to not use it this time - they weren't even going to prescribe it for me until I asked. I don't see low progesterone being an issue for me anymore. But I would hate to have a bfn or a chemical pregnancy and wonder if, had I only used it, could I have had a different outcome...? So greasy underpants, here I come!

Already I feel so different this time around. I hate to say it's not as important...but it's not as important. Either that or concern and care for the child that's outside of my body scours my brain of anything else. Well, except for my pre-ovulatory psychosis. Now that that ship has flown I feel back to normal and back to my every day - what is B eating, are his hands clean, when should he nap, etc etc. So I keep kind of forgetting that I just had an iui. Until I remind myself how good and healthy and strong I feel right now and how quickly that may all change. Then I try to savor this moment. Pregnancy, no matter how much wanted, is no picnic. Let's not forget.

Had another SMC meeting today, this time with two new people, and in a park. Parks/picnics are very challenging with B right now. He's at that frustrating (for both of us) in-between phase where he can't really play like a big kid, but doesn't want to sit nicely like a little baby with mommy, either. I can't wait until he's steady on his feet and can play at some of the toddler playgrounds. Right now he just wants to crawl all over and grab things and break things. I basically didn't get to be a part of the meeting at all because I spent the entire time keeping him from crawling over everyone's plates, or chasing him out of the parking lot, or making sure he didn't pick up that pile of dog poop and eat it, or tearing other children's toys out of his hot little hands, always with resultant kicking and screaming and crying. Ugh. Have I mentioned how NOT a fan I am of this age? 

So for upcoming meetings I'm getting a sitter. There's just no other way. Even if it's at my house it's worth it to me to have someone entertain him for a couple of hours while I play host. 

In the meantime I am going to try to keep the next week as peaceful as possible. Yesterday I ditched out of everything - even my weekly grocery trip - because I just want to sit with this, this thing I'm trying to do, and be present with it. This (potential) child deserves mom's attention, too!

It's on

So. IUI #1 (technically #4) is on the books. And it couldn't have gone better. No flat tires. No cars stolen in the night. No sudden flu. No oversleeping. No Bumpus emergencies. Went in, did the IUI. Nurse said my cervix looked "beautiful" (who doesn't love to hear that?). I was a bit antsy about timing so she humored me with a post-IUI ultrasound. And we were in mid-follicle collapse, with lots of fluids all around, which she says meant the egg probably released sometime in the night. Why no cramping, who knows? But at least I can spend the next two weeks not worrying that we bungled the timing. So now the only thing stopping me is the viability of the egg. It's my last 40-year-old egg. Come on, big 4-0!

P.O.W (Psychotic Ovulating Woman)

Today I woke up to POAS only to find - no surge!!! The line looked the same as it had last night. Frustrated doesn't begin to describe it.

I called the clinic and left a message for the nurse practitioner, asking advice on what to do next. I figured hey, maybe we can do an ultrasound tomorrow and just look around and see what's what. 

Not wanting to miss the return call, I kept my phone literally glued to my body all day. And of course my phone, which never rings, rang off the hook with all kinds of unimportant shit. I took us to the park to get my mind off it. Going to the park is becoming increasingly difficult. Bumpus is able to walk long distances now, so it's impossible to set up camp in one place and expect him to stay nearby. And the last two days despite the enormous grassy expanse being completely empty, groups of people have decided to set up right next to us and throw a frisbee or football around, invariably aimed right at B's head, which means I have to keep picking him up and moving him out of their way, which always results in kicking and screaming. I feel like being a total bitch and saying, "um, you've got this whole huge park, can you just move over there and throw your stupid football around?" But I digress. 

At one o'clock I got back from the park and decided to take another test, being as I'd taken the first one at 6 am. Guess what? Surge. So I called the clinic and left another message saying I did in fact have a surge and could I come in tomorrow. And then waited. And waited. 

It got to be 3:30 and still no return call. I began to question myself - is this really the surge? That line could get a little darker, surely. And why haven't I had any cramping? Should I test again? What if they didn't get my messages?

Since the NP says on her machine that she only returns calls before 4 pm and not at all Friday-Sunday, I decided to be proactive and speak to the front desk. And I'm so glad I did, because apparently the NP had only been in for a minute that day and hadn't even checked her messages-! So, long story short, I set up an "insem" for 11 tomorrow morning. Here we go.

I'm still unsure about the surge, and am bothered that I've had no cramping. I don't feel 100% that this is the perfect timing. I hope we can do another ultrasound tomorrow even if it's going to cost me another $200. After all, had we done one in April '11 I wouldn't have wasted that money or two more months' time thinking everything was fine when it wasn't. I could even throw caution to the wind and do two IUIs back to back...but it's all about egg quality, so I don't so much want to waste two $600 vials and have two $400 (I think?) procedures when this egg may be no good. Someday they'll have the technology to test egg quality without having to draw them out of your body and see if they fertilize. Until they do, us IUI types just have to play the numbers game.

So tomorrow's the day, unless something happens to prevent it. I'm happy about it, of course, but today my emotions were all over the place just trying to nail this thing down. I was ok with B, but boy am I glad I don't have a partner right now! Talk about a one track mind. I can't even stand myself right now. 

The urge for a second child is different and yet the same than the urge for the first. I don't have the same level of fear about it, because I know what to expect. But I do have the same level of insatiable obsession - I feel like if I got a flat tire on the way to the appointment tomorrow I would abandon my car and run the whole rest of the way a la The Graduate. There's just this hormonal beast inside of you that demands THIS HAS TO HAPPEN. It's that old clock, the biological imperative to replace both parents. This is why so few people begin the process of having children with the intent of having just one - most people say, "I don't know, we'll see, maybe..." And people in relationships have the luxury of just chucking the birth control and saying whatever happens, happens. I mean some people do genuinely want only one child, but I think this is rare. Most people would have more if they felt they had the financial and emotional resources. Even people with shitty pregnancies and/or labors. We're just driven that way. I, for one, am tired of fighting it. Let's just go with the flow. 

Dance of the Ovaries

Today I peed on a stick (POAS) for the first time since July 2011. The ovulation predictor showed only a very faint line, so no surge today. Which means no IUI tomorrow. This bothered me all day. Why? I keep telling myself, what's the big deal? I'm not leaving town, I have every day free. Just because my prediction of ovulation on Thursday was wrong, who cares? 

I guess I just get an idea in my head and it's hard to let go. I can be kind of rigid that way. I still think B's birthday is his due date and not his actual birthday! But also I'm afraid - that I'll never see a surge, or worse, that everything will be ambiguous...no cramping, no surge, then what? How could I possibly ovulate later than Friday? If I ovulate as late as the weekend, does that mean it's a "weak" ovulation? Again I have to remind myself, at least on Friday we can always run another ($200) ultrasound. But then no more until Monday.

Anyway I took another test at 6 pm today, twelve hours after the first. It looks ever so slightly darker. I should see a surge by tomorrow morning. Right??? And cramping. Right???

As you can see I'm getting all psychotic about this already and I haven't even started yet! Good times. I blame the hormones. I've been on edge all day, and resentful of anything that tries to take my attention away from obsessing on my nether regions (except B, thankfully). I guess I'm just afraid this first attempt will be bungled somehow. That would suck because then I'm out until August.

I keep reminding myself we saw a follicle, which even right now should only be about 17 or 18 mm. And with the egg and sperm both living 12-24 hours each, there's a couple day window there where the egg could be on its way out just as the sperm gets there, or the sperm could be just dying off as the egg drops. I watched a short animated video on babycenter about fertilization. I was riveted. Not that I don't know how it all works - more than most people! - but to see it in action like that, and know that that's happened inside me twice, is pretty incredible. How that one unique sperm and one unique egg combine to make a unique individual. Someone who could cure cancer or write amazing songs or just be a cool person who mattered to the world. 

I hope whenever that defrosted sperm meets my waiting egg, one of them says to the other, "of all the gin joints in all the world, you had to walk into mine."

HHEIRSP v a v IGYFHHTBWHCYM

Lately I've been consumed with thoughts of How to Handle Everyone's Incredulous Reaction to a Second Pregnancy vis a vis I Guess You Forgot How Horrible That Birth Was and Have Changed Your Mind (which I would like to call HHEIRSP v a v IGYFHHTBWHCYM). 

I think I would like to scream from the rooftops that no, dammit, I haven't forgotten that horrible birth, not one cervix-checking, trainee-IV placing, hospital bed rail-clutching, fake-pushing so the nurse will leave me alone moment of it. I just know I can tolerate it again, one last time for realz this time, in order to bring another soul into this family. And I'm just naive/hopeful enough to think maybe, just maybe, it'll be slightly less horrible this time. 

It's funny when I think how many things I won't have to do this time. I won't have to take the somewhat useless birth classes. I won't have to stress out about the registry. I won't have to google every ffing thing unless something new crops up. I won't have to worry about upcoming travel. I won't have to do a hospital tour. I will also know better how to slant the glucose test in my favor (walk around the block!) and how to eat better (protein protein protein). 

New things will be interviewing and hiring a doula, figuring out sleeping arrangements for the three of us, and worrying about what happens to B during the birth and if I have to go on bed rest or if there's an emergency. Overall, though, it honestly sounds SO much easier a second time around just because you know what carrying, birthing, and raising a baby is like already. There's little to no fear of the unknown which haunts every first pregnancy. Which is great.

B was fussy much of today. You know what that means? It doesn't mean he was fussy. It means I wasn't meeting his needs somehow. He must have been hot/tired/hungry/thirsty/antsy and I just wasn't reading him correctly. Some days I hit it out of the park, some days I strike out. So I let him ransack the house before dinner because he seemed to need it and it made him happy. I once heard a comedian talk about how if dogs ran the world all they would do all day is run and pee. I do believe if Bumpus ran the world and mom wasn't always one step behind him, he would spend the day doing the following:

Break all the on and off switches of all the electronics

Pull everything out of the refrigerator and then abandon it on the kitchen floor, leaving the refrigerator door open

Empty all trash cans onto the floor and play with contents

Tear all books apart and eat them

Splash hands in toilet

Push various objects across the floor pulling up the edges of all the area rugs

Tear down all curtains, including shower curtain

Take orthotic insoles out of all shoes

Tip over any and all glasses of water left lying around

Make doorknob-sized holes in walls by repeatedly slamming doors into them

Pull over all chairs and make a climbing obstacle course out of them

Fall and crack his head open

Earlier today I made an ill-conceived attempt at being social by joining the less active of my meetup groups, the one for single (read: divorced or abandoned) mothers. Only the organizer initially showed, so we went on ahead to the botanical gardens. And, well, Bumpus was fed up after being strapped into either his car seat or stroller all day, so I left the organizer and her daughter to their own devices while I let B run around the one grassy area. Which meant following B as he repeatedly left the grassy area to mess around on the concrete tramway or crawl between rose bushes and scratch the hell out of himself or find patches of dirt and bark to go sit in and eat. Later a woman with two older children joined us. My heart ached for her when the daughter handed her mother a flower and said she wanted to give it to daddy, and the mother said she didn't want to carry the flower all day, and then she asked the boy if he wanted to check our one of the other areas and he very rudely snapped at her, "no. I want to go home." I would have been mortified! Are all kids like this? I'm beginning to wonder if I have unrealistic expectations of children's capacity to be polite. 

So for me the day was a total bust. B didn't even really sleep on the long drive which was a lot of the reason I went. I'm finding we're both much happier when he has a proper nap at home in his crib with the curtains drawn and his pants off. I'll try to schedule accordingly from now on. 

I'm not sure how to handle my future involvement with both of these meetup groups. They're just so poorly attended and end up being kind of depressing. Yet at the moment they're kind of my only way to see people during the day on weekdays. I joined a couple of other groups tonight but honestly they don't seem very active. So I guess I'm going to have to once again find a way to meet other parents and kids. Sigh.

Follie report

Went in for my pre- IUI follicle check today. Everything looks good! Left ovary shows a nice fat follicle at 14mm; lining is a 7 (when I had B I believe it was a 6). We went around in circles as far as procedure - I think I will use opks just for shits and giggles, but we are both of the opinion that Thursday will most likely be "the" day. I'm not going to trigger. That way I don't have to worry about false positives, hooray! The timing may be a bit tricky - I'm not seeing as much EWCM as I'd like for this late in the game, but if I feel cramping on Weds or early Thurs then I know I'm good. So, we're on! The only thing that could make this not work is missing the timing or a non-viable egg. 

Today as I was brushing my teeth I looked myself in the mirror and asked myself if I really wanted to do this. Much like my first ever IUI in April of '11, I said to myself as if a father whispering into his daughter's ear on the way to the altar, "you don't have to do this. You can still back out." But I know I want to do it. I really have no doubts about it, which is good. I think I just had to let the concept roll around in my head long enough to really come to this place. And this is with full knowledge of how good, and how bad, it can get. No illusions about how hard it's going to be. None whatsoever.

Lately I've been really afraid of the nausea, though. I know I still have some more methods to try, and hey, it may not even be as bad this time (which I doubt), but I don't mind admitting I am really, really scared of feeling like I'm about to throw up every minute of every day for the next three to four months. I feel terrible dread about it. Every day I wake up with B at 6 am and think, "how the hell am I going to do this when I'm sick?" Then I change a giant poo poo didey and ask myself, "how the hell am I going to do this when I'm sick?" Then I make him scrambled eggs and think, ...you get the picture. And the answer to all this is, I really don't know. I have no idea. And it completely freaks me out. 

I've got my Unisom and B6 at the ready, and my midwife's card if I can manage some acupuncture (I have no idea how, with a baby in tow). And other than getting to Miami and back and running my event in 2 1/2 months I don't technically have to do anything. God, if only the first trimester weren't such hell-! But again, getting ahead of myself. Got to get sperm to meet (viable) egg first. 

I mean, look at this face. Who wouldn't risk anything to make another one of these???

Heavy breathing

Because of my fears for my safety lately plus a myriad of other concerns, I've resorted to my old deep breathing exercises as a way to staunch my anxiety. It really does work. But it takes more than that - I find my brain operating as it used to in the "old days" (ie, pre- fighting my depression and anxiety); I find myself playing back old scenarios from my distant past, times when I felt embarrassed or angry or hurt, and reliving them as if they just happened yesterday. Today I read a status on FB where a woman complained that a man yelled at her in a restaurant because her baby was crying, and I got so upset, you'd think it happened to me! It's going to take a bit of work to get my sunny disposition back, and right now I kind of don't have the energy.

I'm bummed about my neighborhood safety issues. I'm not sleeping well and freaking out all night at every little noise. I had an estimate on repairing/installing some window bars. It will take two weeks and cost $1300. Sigh.

Today I got the bill for B's emergency room visit back in February - Kaiser has denied my claim. I put it out on Facebook to see if this was normal, and yes, someone with the same policy as me says we're not covered for emergency services. Once again I ask, exactly what the fuck does this very expensive policy actually cover?!? Anything? So I owe $1100 to the fire department and probably another $2000 for the stitch to B's eye. I'm beside myself with rage. I so wish I hadn't called 911 now and had just driven him to Kaiser's own ER twenty minutes away...but when your baby is profusely bleeding do you really want to lock him into a rear-facing carseat for a half hour while you look for parking, etc? I don't see how I could have done anything differently. And now I'm stuck footing the entire bill as if I didn't carry any insurance at all. Is Obamacare going to fix things like this? Please?

And of course I have no money coming in at all. Freaking out. Bank account at zero. Have to pay $1300 to get these bars put on and that's even zero guarantee that my house will be safe. And now these medical bills. Ugh.

Anyhow, in other news, the clinic called Thursday to say I should probably come in later for an ultrasound because Friday (day 10) may be too early to tell anything. Based on my history I tend to ovulate on Day 16. I was pleased that they reviewed my chart and thought enough to rearrange my schedule - I was worried, too, that Day 10 would just show *some* follicles which for me means nothing. So instead I'll go in Monday, Day 13. I wonder what we'll see? I would bet $1000 that ovulation day will be Thursday. If I had $1000 to bet-!

Flashback Friday

Can you believe these photos??? Someone just posted them on my Facebook wall. They are from last spring/summer when B must have been about three or four months old. I didn't even recognize him at first! It's amazing how much he's changed, and how much more he's going to change in the next few years - hell, the next twenty years! 

Now for the not so fun stuff - I am completely beside myself with fear and worry. Last night while a babysitter was here someone had the gall to slip in through my front gate (I know because they left it open) and pry the top off my locking mail box, just feet away from a fully lit house with a TV on...! Nothing was in it, of course, but I am absolutely terrified. Between this and my neighbor telling me about the recent break ins, I feel like our neighborhood is experiencing a mini crime wave, and I don't know how far it's going to escalate before it stops. I just don't understand why someone would try to break into a mail box, at night when it's bound to be empty, and when someone is obviously home just feet away and could easily see you. It's one thing when criminals are stealthy and just want to get in and out when no one's home...it's another when they don't care if you're home. I have been completely consumed with fear the last twelve hours. At least now someone - either me or a babysitter - is always home at night. But during the day when the whole neighborhood is empty the place is a target, and again, if they don't care if I'm home...shudder the thought. I keep trying to tell myself of all the homes mine is the least likely to be broken into because of my alarm and the bars on all the windows, which none of the other houses have. You would think any thief would just pass us by and go next door instead. But you'd think anyone looking to break into a mailbox would wait until nobody was home, too, and they didn't. So I just don't know what I'm dealing with here. And I have to leave for a week a month from now. Ugh!

I'm going to call today to get bars put on the upstairs window and the bathroom window which, even though it doesn't open, could easily be broken and slipped into. I also took my gun out of the safe. Don't worry, it's in a place B could never get to in a million years and the bullets are in a separate location. But if there is an emergency in the middle of the night, having it locked away in a very inaccessible safe which is hard to open pretty much defeats the point of having it. 

I hate that the world has to be this way sometimes, but it is what it is. Nobody escapes crime, even petty crime. Not to sound overly dramatic, but if someone broke in here and stole everything I need to function in my life and my work and I had to go through the rigamarole of filing a police report, filing an insurance claim, replacing everything, plus then having to still sleep here alone every night, etc etc, I don't think I could take it. I think I might have a nervous breakdown. As I mentioned before I never really recovered from my last two break ins (which were ages ago and not even in this city). There's just something about home burglaries that pushes every button I have. Some people are angry and sad when this happens to them but then they move on...I don't know if I could move on. I'm so afraid. And I hate that I'm made to feel afraid because I'm alone, and that I need a man around here to protect me from other men.

Thanks & stuff

Yesterday's post is an example of why I blog! Thanks so much for all the helpful comments. I am definitely convinced that preschool will be great for B and that it's an expense worth taking on. I'll also really work with him in the interim to identify things and learn words. I had started doing this recently anyway, but didn't want to be pushy. I guess, though, that it's ok to be pushy!

Today I visited a friend who just had her second baby a week ago. I asked how the birth went, and she said not good. She was another person who was really traumatized and needed to talk about it. I wish I could offer my services to listen to women vent about their crappy birth experiences! I never tire of hearing it and it seems like a much needed service in the world, especially to new mothers who can't afford/don't have time to seek out professional therapy. My Kaiser midwife asked if I ever saw the therapist she had recommended - who has time for that, with a newborn? Or the money?

It does freak me out a little that her second birth experience sucked. In order for me to seek out a second pregnancy, I have to believe the following with all my heart:

I will get pregnant easily

I will not lose the pregnancy

The baby will be normal & healthy

The birth will be better than last time

None of these things may end up being true. But I have to convince myself they will be true in order to be able to march forward. A little denial never hurt anybody, right?

At least I'm encouraged by this new spate of early genetic tests - ones that were only being released to the public around the time B was born. This MaterniT21 test can detect chromosomal disorders as early as nine weeks, is non-invasive and therefore zero risk, AND you can find out the sex! How awesome is that?

Equally awesome is an upcoming documentary about choice motherhood called First Comes Love, airing on HBO next month. I listened to an interview with the filmmaker and can't wait to watch it. 

The holy war

So apparently it's Jews vs. Christians when it comes to preschool. I have it narrowed down to the temple preschool I visited (no wait list, can start at 2, $310 a month) and a local Congregational preschool (emailed me today that the earliest B could start would be next summer, can only tour the school during the month of February, but only $225 a month). It's tough because technically I couldn't even go see the Congregational school until B would be ok'd to start at the Jewish temple school, so how would that work? Is it worth it to me to hold out to try to save $90 a month? 

And then I keep asking myself...is any of this really necessary? My whole goal with this is to make sure B is socialized and stimulated enough...but does it matter this little, or at two or even three? I feel like it does, but I'm no expert. Is it silly to have B in "school" this early? Or is it perfectly reasonable considering he only has me all day and god knows I'm no childhood development expert. My idea of stimulating a toddler is having him stand in his playpen while I feed him blueberries and The Sopranos plays on the TV. 

So I keep vacillating. Yes, I want the best for him and to make sure he isn't missing out. But boy, $300 a month is a big chunk, especially when it's for so short a time each week that it's not like I'll get any benefit from it, not really. So is it just a very expensive experiment? 

Yesterday at the park we encountered a boy that was born three days after B, and yet seemed miles ahead in development. He was walking like a pro - not crawling at all - and really communicating with his mother, naming objects and responding to her requests. B does none of these things - we don't communicate at all, and he makes zero attempts at naming things or doing something I ask. I'm not saying I think he's delayed or anything - I'm pretty convinced he's totally on point with his development. But it makes me wonder if I'm not doing enough to bring it out in him; I assume he can't understand me and won't do what I ask, so I don't try. Am I selling him short? The last few days I've really made an effort to name things, ask him to hand me things, etc. The moment he actually says "mama" with intent or calls something by its name will be a revelation to me. He's very verbal and makes all kinds of complex sounds all the time, but says no intentional words. Then I go on babycenter and everyone's 14 month olds can say five or six words. Or are these mothers just full of it? 

Anyway, in more positive news, the magical naptimes have continued. I guess much like the talking you just have to wait for them to be ready, sometimes -  he just seems to know when I take off his pants and pull down the window shade, it's quiet time. He plays nicely for a while and then sleeps, and never wakes until I go get him. It's puzzling. He used to wake up from naps just hysterical and be cranky for ages after. Now he's all smiley and ready to go. What was the secret? I may never know, but I'm certainly grateful!

The creeps

I'm up blogging right now mostly because I'm too creeped out to sleep. My next door neighbor told me today there have been a bunch of break ins in the neighborhood lately, and that her neighbor on the other side caught some guy trying to break in to her front door. Ugh! I am so, so scared of this. I mean, I have a burglar alarm and bars on all my windows, but still...someone could get in here if they really wanted to. I've had two break ins in my life (not in this house) and I don't think I've ever recovered from either of them. I really don't know what I'd do if my burglar alarm went off in the middle of the night - thank God there's a bolt on my bedroom door, but still...with a little baby to protect...let's just pray the cold finger of crime doesn't come down on my head, shall we?

In happier news, visited my Jewish temple preschool today. I liked it - and it's not expensive - but also not cheap. So far they're the front runner, though. It's very small (no wait list), multi-cultural and non-religious, has a completely shaded play yard (a rare thing in LA), and a toddler introduction phase for kids just under two where you go along with your child for a few weeks so they get used to the idea. Of course Bumpus has already spent five-six hours at the Baby Kennel on weekends so he's with the program. He'll be there Sunday when I go to see a movie. I have about five more schools I'd like to visit before committing - one in particular that's very cheap. Hopefully I can make a decision and have a plan for when B turns two soon. 

Today I was approached by a friend who makes portable dance floors about buying one from him for my event. We've been talking about this for years but I kind of let it drop because it felt too long term for me - currently I rent dance floors for my event every year and it's a huge expense (the hotel has nowhere near enough floor for me to use). He said he's been thinking about it again lately and really wants me to come to his factory and check it out and talk numbers - how much I need, what he'd charge, how many years it would take for me to pay him (I'm only willing to pay per year what I pay to rent now, which is about $12,000). I would also have to pay for maintenance of the floor, storage, and a crew to set up/tear down each year. But I've already done fifteen events - imagine if I had this paid for in a few years, one day soon I could potentially save $10,000 a year-! Not to mention have a dance floor to rent out to other people. It's a pretty incredible opportunity and I'm so glad he brought it up today. Let's hope this really goes somewhere.

Going with the flow

Yes, it's more about my womanly fluids, hooray! AF seems to be winding down, which in my mind after five days makes for a good, normal, healthy period which should then lead to a good normal healthy ovulation. My heart skipped a little when I realized this whole process starts THIS WEEK. Friday we do the follie check, and then I'm assuming early the following week something will happen - although I'm not sure what. Will they want me to use opks? If they do I will insist on another ultrasound before we "go". Those damned things (opks) were nothing but a huge tease last time. Will they want me to do a trigger shot? God I hope not. Between the expense ($80, if I remember correctly), the pain in the ass of administering it (literally!), and worst of all not knowing if your positive pregnancy test is for real or not, I'd really rather not. Now that I know my ovulation signs - cramping, for one - I don't think a trigger is necessary. I wish I could temp again but I don't trust the temps when I'm dragged out of bed at six every day; I also have a sneaking suspicion I may have thrown out my old basal temperature thermometer in one of my "I'll never try for another baby, dammit" moments, along with other such useful items as leftover opks, pregnancy tests, large pads, post partum vajayjay cooling spray, my fetal Doppler, cloth diapers, B's swing and bouncy chair, all of B's newborn clothes, my snap 'n go stroller, etc etc. It occurred to me that one of the things I really should have on hand, sadly, is large pads in case I miscarry. I can think of little more hideously depressing than making the drive to CVS, picking out the box, taking it up to the counter, paying, getting back in the car, going home to replace the giant wad of toilet paper with a pad reminiscent of the 1960s, under those circumstances. When you don't have a husband to send out on these urgent errands it's best to be prepared for any eventuality. Worst case scenario I use them for a miscarriage; best case for post-partum. And then I can throw away the leftovers in yet another "I'm not trying for another baby, dammit" moment, but for real this time. 

Something truly magical has happened with regards to B's naps in the last few days. Up until now naps had been all over the place - mainly I just made sure we had a good long drive somewhere around naptime every day, or would leave early for places so we could sit in the car for 45 minutes or so while he slept so I could be on time when he woke up. This is not as inconvenient as it sounds, so I was (sort of) ok with it. But a few days ago, what with my new blackout curtains and B's new pack n play for sleep that I feel confident leaving him awake in, I decided to try, just try, to put B in there for a much needed middle of the day nap. In the past these attempts were useless - he'd cry for 45 minutes to then sleep for 20, and I was constantly worried he'd find a way to catapult himself out of the old crib. But I don't know if it's just a fluke or he's developmentally able now or he's had enough practice sleeping in this same spot with me not in the room with him, somehow the last three days he's actually napped. I just walk in and put him down and he just sleeps. The other day he slept so long - about 2 1/2 hours - I had time to weed the whole front yard, read my book, and get some paperwork done, until finally I went in to wake him up because I was sure something had to be wrong with him (it wasn't). He does usually play around for a bit, but who cares? He's happy and just having a little quiet time, and he always falls asleep eventually. It's frigging awesome. If we can keep this up it will be amazing. I'm just going to make a habit of a mid-day nap when we've come home from one of our activities. This is going to be SO useful when my work starts getting more intense in the next two months!

So often these days I think about what I'd do differently with a second child. Not that I feel like I screwed anything up with B - I'm ok with all of the choices I made with him, I really am. But there are some things I could have done differently that would have made things easier on myself. Such as:

I don't think I'd co-sleep with a new baby. I think part of the reason whatever sleep I did get was so shitty was because I was so afraid of smothering him or his falling off the bed (particularly when he started rolling over). So I never slept very deeply. I think having a new baby in the crib pushed up next to my bed would be perfectly fine and cause me a lot less anxiety. 

I'd have set, in the crib bedtimes and naptimes a LOT earlier, like six months or so. I'd at least try.

I'd wear the baby more around the house.

I might take a stab at cloth diapering. I like the idea of the money it could save me, and although it was totally overwhelming to even think about it with B, I'm open to the idea of considering it again (if I can get back all the supplies I gave away).

Funnily enough, for how much the whole food thing tormented me, I don't think I'd do anything differently there. I'd still wait as long as I did to introduce solids and keep the whole purée phase short. Waiting a year to introduce milk, adult food, honey, peanut butter, etc, means you don't have to try to remember the complex list of dos and don'ts. Anyway. I don't know that I'd recommend this for everyone, but in the end it worked for us. 

I keep seeing these dumb blog posts about how your second pregnancy is different from your first, and always on the same theme - that you're all uptight and such a perfectionist with the first baby and by the time a second comes around you don't give a shit anymore and let everything, especially yourself, go to pot. I find this borderline offensive. It implies all mothers are disorganized, frazzled slobs who don't even have the wherewithal to slap on some deodorant and Chapstick in the morning because they're so completely overwhelmed by basic parenting. Hey, maybe life really is like this with two kids. But somehow I doubt it. I think there will always be moments like that for all mothers - married, single, one kid or multiple children - but overall it's up to your level of willingness to be neat and organized and take care of yourself. That whole "you don't even have time to take a shower when you have a baby" concept is complete bs, if you ask me. 

 

Saturday photo dump

Here are some shots from today's Silverlake reservoir park visit. You can see me shifting the camera to eliminate my ever-present double chin, ha ha!

Preschool mambo

Convinced there had to be a better (read: cheaper) way when it came to preschool, last night I spent some quality time on my computer and did some extensive research. How much, exactly, is letting Bumpus play with construction paper and little rounded scissors a few hours a week, actually worth to me? 

Thankfully I did find three promising places. One is a Jewish temple preschool which didn't have rates advertised but got stellar reviews; I'm going to visit them Monday. There are also two church preschools in a really good area a few miles away that also got great reviews and one has their very cheap rates on their website. I'll give them a call for tours as well. None of these places accept kids under 2; which is starting to be ok with me. Really "preschool" shouldn't be until about three or four anyway; all of this is a luxury I really can't afford. But I will certainly know more about my situation by next March - broke or not, new baby or not. I can hold out until then, for sure. I'm glad I have time to sort all this out and get on some waiting lists. I'd hate to have to make a choice like this under duress. 

Despite drying up temporarily yesterday, good ol' AF is still a-flowin'. That was a relief. For a minute there yesterday I thought what I had was just another case of "breakthrough bleeding". But it's still happening, and with a vengeance. I called the clinic to officially get the ball rolling - put that frozen sperm in the microwave and let's get going! 

Of course I wish it were that simple. I requested a Day 10 ultrasound for next Friday. This being the first real cycle, I may still be SOL - thin lining, no ovulation. I've decided not to take Femara right now until I know what's going on. And even if I do actually release an egg in a couple of weeks, there's no telling if it'll be viable or not (or as mentioned if it'll be all wonky like the first egg my chicken lays after a long hiatus). I need to steel myself for the possibility of small, "immature" follicles again. Well, then at least I'll know to take Femara again. So, there's a plan! Now countdown to next Friday and we'll see what we can see.

CD 1...?

I've been having very familiar crampy feelings all day, and have been obsessively wiping, even in the car-! (I know, I know. I made sure no one was looking). Just now there was the faintest tinge of pink. I think something's happening here! Could this be CD 1, my first CD 1 since June of 2011...? Boy would it be great to get this show on the road. Unfortunately my fertility calendar says my July ovulation will be exactly when I'm out of town, so if June's a bust, July will be, too. But again, getting ahead of myself. Let's see if this actually materializes into a real period and not just a few hours of bleeding like last time. Then we can take it from there.

Last night I watched the documentary Making Grace for a second time; I believe the first time was when I was either about to start trying or already trying. It's about a lesbian couple pursuing motherhood via donor. There's a lot that doesn't apply to us SMC types - relationship issues, anti-gay prejudice, etc - but SO much that does. It's amazing to watch now being on the other side. The frustration of trying to get pregnant but not succeeding. The fear of aging reproductive parts. The donor selection. The telling friends and family, especially those with kids. Even down to watching the poor woman shake uncontrollably while on pitocin - ugh! I remember it well. I can't believe I'm here again, a place for so long I thought I'd never be. I still look at B and think of him as an only child - just me and him, buddies. But if I get my way that won't be our story. It's crazy how you can rewrite the story of your life, and someone else's life, just like that. Or try to, anyway!

I met another older couple over the weekend who, upon hearing my story, told me theirs - that they tried and tried to have kids but weren't successful; that she was already 45. Her niece offered her eggs, but then the woman was found to have seven pounds of fibroids in her uterus and could not carry a baby anyway. So they weighed the chances after surgery and the costs and decided it just wasn't worth it. Another amazing and sad story I probably never would have known had I not had a story of my own to tell.

I toured a local preschool today. I'm so confused about what's the right thing to do - everyone has different rates and policies, and they all have long wait lists. This one is not expensive but not cheap - the difference is their costs are based on a full day rather than just 2-3 hours. So factoring that in, they're way more affordable than most others. But do I really need my 18 month old or two year old to be "somewhere" from say 9-5 twice a week? Is it worth saving $100 or so to have him somewhere twice a week for only three hours a day? It seems like a ripoff to me (I mean, what the hell can I get done in three hours? One hour will just be driving back and forth!). But will he be ready to be away from me that long...? I suppose it's good to at least have the option of a longer day, right? I'll put myself on the wait list. We may not even ever get in to this place. But any advice/experience with this would be appreciated.

When I think about spending nearly $500 a month for just a couple of days of childcare a week, when I don't technically need it, it makes me cringe. And lately I've been thinking I may not be able to pull that money out of my ass after all - I checked my bank account last night and am in a slight bit of a panic. I know people are going to sign up for my event eventually - they have to, right? - but it continues to be dead as a doornail, even with my price increase just a month away. Compared to this far out from the event last year, last year I was doing way better. It makes me wonder if that big push I had back in Feb was kind of it for the early birds. As predicted, that money lasted me until my June mortgage, and no farther. So here I am just after June 1st and I have literally no money in the bank. This time last year (adjusted for the event's date change) I had $7000. So, not good. Not good at all. 

My price increase day is July 10, so all will be revealed shortly. A lot is going to happen in the next few weeks! For now I'm just trying to not panic (too much), breathe, and carry on.

Ten things I hate about you

In the interest of honesty and encouraging mothers to not feel alone in their occasional frustrations with their children, I have decided to write a list of things my kid does that drive me nuts. This list is published with the understanding that a) I love him very much and b) he's just a baby and does these things because he's normal and active and curious. Here we go!

1. I hate it when I'm trying to feed him and he keeps pushing off with his feet to stand in his high chair. Ditto repeatedly kicking the tray until it goes flying off, flinging food everywhere

2. I hate it when I have to wrestle him to change his diaper - which has been pretty much every diaper change since about five months

 

3. I hate it when he shakes his head "no" to a food or drink he actually wants until I re-introduce it about ten times, then he wants it

4. I hate it when he screams and arches his back every time we have to get in the carseat or stroller

5. I hate it when he shakes his sippy cup upside down and soaks his pants/ carseat/playpen until it's empty

6. I hate it when he whines all day for no (apparent) reason

7. I hate it when he pulls his hat off in the sunshine

8. I hate it when he screams in my ear for no (apparent) reason

9. I hate it when he insists on crawling to the dirtiest, most hazardous area of any public place we go and shoves random treacherous things in his mouth

10. I hate it when I have to pin him down and wrench his jaw open to remove said treacherous items from his mouth, amidst much screaming and kicking

...but honestly, he's so darned cute none of this stuff matters that much. Ain't that some shit?

The most wonderful time

I often feel guilty that my favorite time of day is Bumpus' bedtime. That in fact I count down the hours until 7 every afternoon. But I know I'm not alone in this, and I know looking forward to bedtime does not mean I don't love my kid and also doesn't mean I don't enjoy him. But in particular for us the late afternoons are rough - I can't expect him to have patience anymore for the playpen where he's spent his entire morning (god bless 'im), we're usually home from our afternoon outings, and we're both tired and cranky and played out. But it's only 3:30 or 4:00 and we've got three hours to dinner time and bed. So most of the time I try to arrange a late afternoon outing (park, farmer's market, etc) so we can get home at six and get the dinner/bedtime ritual started. But when I don't - ugh. The hours just drag. And then it's magically 6:40 and I can feed him dinner, wipe his butt, put his jammers on, sing a song about everything we did that day, tuck him in, and tiptoe out of the room. Magical!

I know many of you envy my ability to be B's sole caretaker. Hey, I envy myself! It's a gift, it really is. But it's not without its own challenges. Louis CK did a great bit in his last special about how great divorce is and how only seeing his kids half the time makes him a much better dad - that anyone can be a great dad half the week. That's so true. I think about how much harder I'd try if I only saw B at evenings and weekends - how our time together would be so much more precious instead of something to "count down" every day. Often during our day I think "if only I made a game out of this thing he hates (wiping his face and hands, changing diaper, putting on pants and shoes, getting into carseat or stroller) , I could make it fun and not a scream fest," but honestly - half the time I just don't have the energy to make up a song and game for every little thing we do all day. A lot of the time I do - and I'm quite proud of myself when I manage to distract him out of a fit by dancing him around and showing him things around the house. But sometimes I just can't deal. The other day he was doing his usual strain and push up to standing in his high chair which drives me nuts, and rather than coaxing him back to sit I just grabbed his feet and pulled him back into the chair while saying, "SIT your BUTT DOWN." Not one of my better moments. But not one of my worst, either. 

So I'm not saying I think our lives would be better if I worked. It would be different, though, if someone (or some group) did half the feeding/changing/napping/entertaining. That will come soon enough with preschool. Woo-hoo!

In other news, still no AF. I called the clinic today to see if they'd put me on Provera. They asked when I weaned and said it really should be right around the corner - like, in the next week. So we agreed that if she doesn't show by next Monday we'll try Provera. I can live with that. I'm not sure where this puts me as far as my first chance to try and how many tries before I have to shut down in September. It does make me edgy. And the idea of even if it works ending up with a very new, fragile pregnancy during my event (and possibly being very, very sick) does not thrill me. But here we are - still no period, and my event less than three months away, and turning 41 next month. I'm up against it, for sure.