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Halloween and other random junk

I haven’t written much lately and I really don’t know why. Just busy I guess. Getting back from vacation and trying to get back in to the swing of things. It’s hard. I’ve also been trying desperately to find a job to help pay for this infertility nonsense and to have a little more disposable income. It’s hard. I went to school for 6 years. I do not want to take a job that pays $10.00 an hour. But that’s whats out there right now, and its starting to PISS. ME. OFF. Living in the Great State of California Sucks. Especially when you’re in education. Especially when you’re in educational counseling, which is, when our fine govornator takes more (and more) money out of the education budget, one of the first programs that schools cut. So anyway…

I have a lil Halloween story for ya’ll, and I know you guys will “get” it…So we went to a friends house to trick or treat. Did the neighborhood round then back to thier house to hang out for a bit. A few of us were sitting on the front porch handing out candy and chatting, when up walks a teenage girl. 16 if she’s a day. A PREGNANT 16 year old girl. “Trick or Treat”! Holds out her candy bag. OMG. My jaw must’ve dropped. I’m sorry, but once you make the decision to have sex and you get pregnant, you are just done with trick or treating.  “It’s not for me, the baby wants candy!” Bitch I will slap you if you don’t walk your little ass back down that driveway and away from this house. Those were my thoughts. Harsh? Probably. But give me a freaking break. So my friends mom was out on the porch with us. She is a wonderful hispanic woman who DOESN’T hold back. Let me put it this way. She WORKS AT THE DMV. Thats how tough she is. So anyway, Mrs. G. says, “Ahhhhh look at you, gonna have a baby are ya?” She obviously doesn’t catch the tone  of Mrs. G’s voice because she continues to babble on. It comes out that the daddy is a SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD BOY who lives in the neighborhood, that my friend’s family knows. Mrs. G. says, “Ahhhh, so he’s gonna be a daddy, huh? That’s nice. Real nice”. Mrs. G. is quiet for a minute and says, “so did he finally get a car? And a job?” Pregnant teen says “oh yea, he got a car, but its older…He has a really good job now”. Mrs. G. says, “oh wow. That’s great. Just great”. All the while she is shaking her head in a way that suggests that she doesnt think for a minute that any of this is great. As the conversation continues we learn that 17 year old baby daddy finally got a car manufactured sometime in the 80s. It’s cool, but it doesn’t always start. And Baby daddy’s great job? HE WORKS PART TIME AT BURGER KING.

Ok. I may not be rich and I may be on the hunt for a decent job, but lemme tell ya. My husband and I live together. Not seperately with our parents. We own cars that run, and should I ever be lucky enough to go in to labor, I know that my dependable car will get me to the hospital. My husband also has a great job. Now we may not have free whoppers or chicken fries at our finger tips, but dammit if we don’t have the money to put good meals on the table anyway.

It was just so frustrating. It made me so mad. And sad. And guilty for feeling this way about this poor girl who made a stupid mistake that will probably make her life so much harder than it ever had to be. And she probably has to deal with people like me every day, who judge her because she is a teenager and she is pregnant. I know my thoughts and feelings and glee over the fact that she was harrassed by a DMV EMPLOYEE  are wrong. But you know what? Thats why I’m telling you guys about it. Because I know that you guys (deny it if you want), would have the same or at least similar feelings. It’s hard to watch and listen to this immaturity. This girl in a zombie costume who is trick or treating with a 7 month pregnant belly. Who is rambling on and on and sounding not 1 day older than her 16 years. It’s kinda hard for those of us who are financially and emotionally stable and ready. And have been trying for years and throwing thousands of dollars toward making it happen. It may not be right to feel that way, but I’m just telling the truth.

Ok so quick subject change. Question: Who has done acupuncture with thier cycles? I did it for my endo and I did it with my first cycle and I’m trying to decide if I want to do it again. What is it really best for? Relaxation only, or does it acutally have an “effect” on the uterus? I ask cus heres the thing. I HATE acupuncture. I don’t mind the needles. What I mind is laying in a dark room for 40-50 minutes. I CAN NOT RELAX. I think it has the opposite effect on me. I get so anxious. I CAN NOT clear my mind, and all the things that I stress about come at me full force when I’m laying there. BUT, I will say it did take my cramps down a notch or two when I was doing it, so theres gotta be something to it? I just don’t know because I want to give myself every chance to have my FET work, and if it doesn’t will I be going, dammit, its cus I didn’t do acupuncture… Thoughts please…


New Me vs. OLD Me

Well I did a full hour of the castor oil pack last night, I took an epsom salt bath AND…Drum Roll Please…I slept through the ENTIRE night!! (Wild Applause and cheering) I know, I can’t believe it either. I woke up when my alarm went off. Husband was already gone. I didn’t even hear him getting ready. That NEVER happens. His snoring didn’t wake me. That NEVER NEVER happens.

I was able to get up a little bit better than I recently have been. Meaning I didn’t lay around and moan and groan and promise anything in the world to just be able to stay in bed and sleep.

I went to the gym even though my cramps and lower back are still buggin, though not as bad as they were yesterday. I managed to accomplish two miles before I couldn’t do it anymore. Not quite the 4 a day I was aiming for, but at this point something is better than nothing.

I went to Henry’s Marketplace, which has turned into a Sprouts since the last time I was in the Henry’s in this town. Quite upsetting. They didn’t have white balsamic and tried to pawn white wine vinegar off on me, as if that would do the trick. (I really don’t know how to cook and would’ve fell for it had it not been for Chef Google telling me not to, don’t be fooled).

I am anxious for my doctor appointment tomorrow. I need some relief. It’s only 12:56, I can’t leave here until 2:30, and really all I can think about is going home and pulling the blankets up over my head. I don’t like despise this new me. It is definately not a new and improved me. It is a yucky, feels like crap and I don’t like it new me. The new me has a constant stomach ache and heavy eye-lids. The new me never feels good. The new me can’t concentrate. The new me can’t wait until its dark outside so that I can get into bed. The new me blames me for the  miscarriage and for not being able to get pregnant, although the OLD me is logical and knows that the real problem is more the male factor part of it. New me keeps telling OLD me that the miscarriage wasnt because of  a random chromosomal abnormality, but because of either a sperm issue that we can never overcome or because I have an evil uterus. Take your pick. New me is mean and likes to mess with OLD me’s head.  New me likes to picture my unterine cavity as a treacherous place filled with land-mine like lesions and inflammation and smoke-like negative prostaglandins that are just waiting to swirl around and surround and suffocate any embryo brave enough to enter. New me keeps telling OLD me that IVF #1 was my one shot, that nothing else, no other try is going to work. New me thinks that if it didn’t work on the first try, its not going to work at all.

This is no way to live. The new me can suck it. The OLD me is in there somewhere and is FIGHTING to come back out and kick new me’s ass. The OLD me just needs a little help because new me has wrapped OLD me up and is smothering OLD me with a thick, heavy black blanket. But hopefully, with a little help, OLD me is going to make new me it’s bitch.