Well, sh*t.

The last few days have been somewhat trying on the baby making front. . .which is funny, since we still aren’t yet trying to make a baby, technically. Har har har.

On Saturday afternoon, after too few hours of post roadtrip sleep, La and I went to pick up Eliot and Ed, our two older dogs who stay with my parents when we leave town (Ed because he is old and blind and doesn’t deal with rapid change well, Eliot because he loves my mom so much and he is too anxious to be left alone in a place he doesn’t know well.) We ended up sitting down and hanging out for a bit with my parents, filling them in on our trip to Indy and catching up on the family drama from Xmas.

Of course, my brother and sister in law’s pregnancy came up, as did my cousin’s pregnancy, and the many bellies waddling around Indiana. There are a lot of babies to talk about these days. In the conversation, I casually mentioned that La and I were going to be starting on our conception journey this month (something I have casually mentioned before, but this time I said more pointedly “we might be inseminating next week”) and . . .


My mom did not ask questions, she did not get excited, she did not even complain or judge or make a snide comment, which somehow would have been better. She just sat there and stayed quiet.

I managed to wrap up the conversation somewhat quickly so I could get the hell out of the living room before totally losing my shit.I barely made it out to the car before I burst into terrible, inconsolable, hiccuping sobs. I hadn’t been so horribly hurt in years. We drove home and I cried and ranted and La was so good like she always is but it was wretched. I was considering really irrational things, like not talking to my mom or other promises I can’t keep.

She ended up calling on the drive home. Not, as I had hoped, to apologize for her silence, but to ask if she could help us out with some money for Ed’s medical expenses. I was adamant in refusing her financial help and tried to get off the phone before she heard the tears in my throat. No such luck.

30 minutes later, I didn’t feel better, although I did feel like I understood, a little. She assured me it had not been her intention to hurt me, that she was thrilled that we were thinking of trying to have children, that she was scared about her health and its impact on her ability to be a grandmother, that she didn’t know what was appropriate to ask. I don’t know what to think. I believe her, and her apology was sincere. But I can’t shake the feeling that she should have had some sort of response. That there should have been . . .something there and not just nothing.

La and I decided that as part of our plan for the TTC ride, we will be seeing a couples counselor (first appointment next week!) once a month, she’ll see her therapist once a month, and I’ll start going back to my beloved Rachel (um, she’s my therapist, sorry that wasn’t clear) once a month. Given the enormity of my feelings about my mom, I think this is a wise decision.

In other news, my almost -so-close-not-quite-positive OPK of 2:30pm and the slightly darker but still not fully positive OPK of 6:30pm today seem to point towards ovulation happening sometime between now and thursday – smack dab in the middle of BFF’s vacay in NYC. So, no dice in January.

This afternoon, when I saw the pee dipped stick I brought it out to the living room and showed La, who was sitting with a good friend of ours. I was a little shocked at how sad I felt. BFF is technically still in town until Thursday, but he won’t have his HIV/STI panel done until tomorrow, and the results probably not in until Friday. That’s a risk to take, but its also not fair to BFF to ask him to drop everything right before he heads out of town.

I’m consoling myself with a reminder that we were supposed to track three cycles before trying, that it will likely be the end of January or first days of February when we do try, which is only a week later than I had predicted for our first try back in October when I started tracking cycles. Plus, having a more normal cycle (after the wackjob of Nov-Dec) can be nothing but good, it allows me a full cycle on acupuncture herbal regime.

And, my CF is really obviously in the eggwhite category – clear, stretchy and slippery – which it hasn’t always been for the past few cycles (sidenote: I’ve been taking mucinex for the chest cold I picked up in Indy and I’m wondering if that has something to do with it . . .) my cervix is clearly in a good position, and I feel about 1000X more confident that I understand this process than I did in October.

So, bummertown for sure, but really not as bad as it could be. And, I imagine, this ride is likely to have some other twists and turns that will make this tiny blip of hard look like a flatline on the radar.


3 thoughts on “Well, sh*t.

  1. The mucinex will do that, but so will the fluids you’ve probably been slamming down in response to feeling sick. Honestly, I don’t think it would hurt to take mucinex next cycle, when the fertile fluid comes around again, but staying hydrated is the big thing.

    I don’t know what to tell you about parents, except that they are maddening. For the most part my parents are awesome; the Man Thing’s parents are another matter entirely. Lately the family furor has been over his brother, who is engaged to a Catholic woman who wants to marry in the church. Of course, in order for him to do this, he has to have his previous marriage annulled. Which would “deligitimize” his two daughters. So Mom is threatening not to attend the wedding if he goes ahead and does this thing, and Dad pretty much goes along with whatever Mom does, because when she doesn’t get her way she is a first-class nightmare (something I have seen firsthand, and it’s terrifying). For myself, first off, did the calendar flip us backward into 1950 and I missed it? Reestablishing paternity is not a difficult thing. The brother has no interest in shirking his paternal responsibilities. I don’t understand why Mom can’t just mind her own business. And what kind of parent boycotts their child’s wedding over something so stupid? She told me straight up to my face that she would never have attended the Man Thing’s first wedding, even if it hadn’t been somewhat shotgun, because she hates the ex-wife and never approved of the marriage. I don’t like the ex-wife, but I have to respect the fact that she’s the stepdaughters’ mother, and Man Thing’s mom doesn’t approve of that. So basically…yeah. That’s a whole lot of verbiage to illustrate a simple “parents are difficult sometimes and I totally feel you.” 😛

    Here’s hoping that next month is your month!

    • Yeah. Parents, man, they just don’t understand. heh. And they can be real heartbreaking assholes sometimes, too.

      I’m feeling surprisingly awesome about missing the eggboat this go around. I feel excited that I am feeling like I really ‘get’ my cycle now, and that patterns are starting to emerge – even with the wacky eggdrop of Nov-Dec ’12. Like, so excited that even though I know La doesn’t want to hear about my cervical fluid I was like “baby baby lookit! er . . .listen! my cervical fluid is so awesome and slippery and eggwhitey just like its supposed to be!” and she’s like “remember this is why you have the blog?”

      Plus, we ordered some of those fancy digital OPKs, for fun and confirmation, and I did one today just to see if my inturpretation is correct, and it was kind of neat to see the smiley face pop up. Its the little things.

  2. I have had some of the same issues with my mom and with other family. I think I’ve written a bit about it on my blog. People just don’t know what is safe to ask, which is weird since there technically isn’t sex involved in the process and everyone seems to be just fine asking straight couples stuff and being excited for them. I’m sorry it was so rough on you. I was ready to quit then and there when my boss didn’t even bother to say congratulations when I told her I was pregnant. As for this cycle, if you feel comfortable with inseminating before he leaves and possibly not having his results, then it doesn’t hurt to ask. Just put it in a way that lets him know that you will not be upset or offended by a no.

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