But first…
What We Learned From My Last Post:
1. My ovaries read this blog! They must, because as soon as I wrote how the little ingrates were not cooperating, they went and gave me a + on the OPK. Go figure. Looks like they stopped slutting it up long enough to help me ovulate right around CD16, so I was a little too harsh.
I should have passed them a note in gym class saying:
Wats Up? Will you release a viable egg this month, check Yes or No. And? Do you like Mikey Plano because he’s super HOTT and wants to go with you. If you like him back, check Yes or No. Kay Bye.
I have tried this tactic before, in previous appeals to my lady parts, but they usually don’t listen. I may have to start texting them on a more regular basis once my IVF cycle starts.
2. For some bizarre reason, I paint a picture of my girlie bits as being youthful and full of vim and vigor. Which is pretty funny if you think about it! (Go on! Do it! Think about it. Funny? See, told ya.) I mean, ruhlly, I should be painting a picture of my ovaries as the Golden Girlie Parts. You know, sitting around Shady Pines, drooling in their oatmeal and waiting for the ungrateful bastards known as grandkids to stop by or at least send a card and a fruit basket once a year. I guess in some sick way portraying my ovaries as reckless teens makes me feel better, but it’s probably something I should bring up with my therapist, who would be thrilled to have something other than my Mother to talk about.
3. I watch and think about and use quotes from waaaayyyyy too many movies. GAWD. If I could pull my head out of my ass (and my Tivo) long enough to pay attention, I would know a lot more about what the hell is going on with my upcoming cycle. (But thank you for saying it was okay that I don’t have much of a clue, I totally appreciate it.)
And? Can I just say again you guys RULE! You totally get me, even in all my nuttiness. When SaraS-P wrote:
You are like a kid who spent 4 years working hard in school, then just never graduated and found yourself in special school with stricter requirements, higher tuition, and ambiguous graduation dates. That sounds like no fun at all.
I was all, YES, that’s exactly what it feels like! I started thinking about how I am sort of riding the Infertility Short Bus wearing the head gear and everything. Biting my nails down to the cuticles, paranoid there will be a pop quiz in Science class later that day. And nervous that I forgot my lunch and the cafeteria will be serving tater tots and they give me terrible gas in PE class. But at least I have you all watching my back, and that makes it all bearable.
Okay, now on to the…DUHN DUHN DUHN…possible issue with this cycle. And by ‘issue’ I mean ‘another delay that will quite possibly make me jam my head in the toaster oven at work.’
Here’s the deal: Remember when I complained bitterly whined incessantly told you about BeBop’s job situation? No? You mean you don’t remember each and EVERY word I scrawl on this blog? GEESH. Just kidding. You can get caught up on all the drama over here and here and quite possibly here.
But the upshot (in case you don’t want to go back and read all of that, and why would you? Isn’t Ugly Betty on tonight?) is that BeBop took the two-month position last summer, and although it ended in October they’ve kept him on, saying how much they love him and…drum roll please…he’s JUST about to become a full-time, permanent employee at the Dream Job (fingers crossed!). And the Dream Job has a benefits package that…wait for it….includes some coverage for infertility treatments.
Soooooo….I am hoping and wishing and praying that by the time our treatment actually starts, he’s on the company’s plan, which would help us tremendously. We talked briefly last night about waiting another month or two to make sure he’s on the plan, but quite honestly I just can’t do it.
NO CAN DO. ME NO LIKEY.
The coverage is good, but not great. We’d still have to pay out of pocket for most of it, so it’s not an all or nothing deal. If his new insurance covered everything, honestly I would wait and start drinking heavily and only leave the house to go to work sporadically and watch bad TV all day to pass the time.
Which is not that different from what I do currently, but if I end up choosing to delay IVF and wait another month or two I will pursue these hobbies with a great deal more bitterness and anger at the universe. (And quite possibly handfuls of tater tots because now that I’m an adult, who cares about bad gas??)
And that little scenario wouldn’t be good for anyone. What with all the yelling and crying and carrying on and cursing. And let’s not forget the shoving of the taters (and maybe even some pigs in a blanket for good measure) down my craw and the beer swilling.
No. This would NOT be good for anyone in the Watson-BeBop household.
Especially him:
Oh Dear Lord in Heaven, please do not make her wait another month to start her IVF cycle.
I simply cannot endure the vulgar language and the junk food eating. Or the flatulence. It’s just a pathetic display and I cannot be subjected to such drama.
Every time I see you’ve updated I look forward to reading another hilarious post. Indeed. This one delivers. (Is Mikey Plano a real person?)
Tough one about waiting the two months for IVF coverage. As one who paid out of pocket, maybe you should wait for full coverage, but then again, if that one month would make a difference in actually getting pregnant and carrying to term, I suppose the money’s all worth it. Good luck with it–I sure as hell don’t know what to tell you.
He just has the best expressions ever!
Hope he gets the position – that would be Awesome!
Dear Watson, you are too funny. Just the ovaries alone had me in stitches… and by the time the dog rolled around, well, I was in love.
And I can understand you so well on wanting to get this show on the road…
Go Golden Girls!
And I totally understand that sometimes a month is JUST TOO LONG.
Best wishes to BeBop.
Bosco, I so want to kiss your head!
To wait of not to wait? I don’t know. I think I might just go for it. Besides, if you wait, your are just going to torture that precious puppy. He already puts up with being plastered on the internet, you can’t really expect him to put up with any more than that, do you?
I actually laughed so hard that I’ve been crying for 5 minutes already.
The stupid part? I think I actually wrote that note to your ovaries above VERBATIM to a boy named Jeff Pollard in grade 5. Except I was asking him to go out with my friend – not to produce an egg…and, well, he said no – and then we started going out 2 days later.
So really, my note was nothing like yours, but it made me laugh anyways.
I wouldn’t wait another month either, who wants to do that to themselves? I’m sending you a truckload of tater tots worth of luck – good luck, good luck, good luck!
Ovaries! Note passing! Damn I’m going to have to email Mr Bea some more excerpts from your blog.
Bea
Ovaries! Note passing! Damn I’m going to have to email Mr Bea some more excerpts from your blog.
Bea
That posted twice? First it won’t let me comment then it posts everything twice? Sorry bout that… dunno what’s up.
Bea
Watson, I can’t believe I just found your blog! I blew 2 hours away yesterday reading all of your old posts, and laughing myself silly. I am 36 with unexplained infertility, so I can relate to those “time is running out” pressures. Thank you so much for sharing your story–and for sharing it in such an insightful, humorous way!
Carla
i would forge ahead. me no likey waiting, either.
BTW, you’re head wouldn’t fit in the toaster oven at work. You could do the oven at home…but that’s sooo Slyvia Plath and although you’re dramatic…i don’t think you’re quite that dramatic.
Hey Watson,
Yes, to quote Tom Petty (I know how you love you some quotes)… “the waiting is the hardest part”. But whatever you decide, yes, we will be watching your back (even if it is in direct line of this gas you keep mentioning…)
And, I am feeling better, thank you!
I was never brave enough to write notes like that to boys in gym class. Plus I went to an all-girls school, so the note would have been slightly different…
Glad the girls decided to cooperate. Long may that continue.
Tater tots never gave me gas but that explains why the PE portable always smelled rank after they served tots.
Also good on the ovaries – maybe it was pudding-and-muffins day at the ‘home and it perked ’em right up.
😉
I watch and think about and use quotes from waaaayyyyy too many movies.
Don’t tease me like that and then run off without delivering the mad skills, woman!
OH, poor Bosco! He so wants his dear Watson to have some fertility-related success!
Hey, lay off the tots! (though tots rule!)
Say…Would a BFN be like a note with a big ball-point “yes!!!” double underlined and with 3 red hearts dotting the exclamation points?
Well I’m gong to hope like the Dickens that not only are your ovaries cooperating, but BeBops boy parts too. So that you don’t even make it to IVF. So I think your next note needs to be to BeBop’s swimmers!
(P.S. Tell him CONGRATULATIONS on getting the job full-time. That is just fantastic. He gets to have his dream job after all. YAY!)
Watson, I want to be a writer. But every time I read your blog, I realize I suck as a writer and I should give up.
Said another way, you make me want to be a better writer. There. That’s slightly more positive.
If I can’t be a writer, I guess I could make some boondoggle key chains. I already made like infinity of those at scout camp.
I just have to say CUTEST DOG EVER. Except mine.