I'm so excited AND scared as hell to be excited. I'm freaking out that it might be fake from the HCG shot. I'm freaking out that my Betas will come back bad. In general, I'm turning into a big ball of Freak. Rick James would love me right now...
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Sorry to be an absent blogger recently. I have barely enough energy at the end of the day to turn on the computer. Brief rundown of the house succubus:
TODAY- the day we were going to close on our house
LAST FRIDAY- the day we appraised and began celebrating (finally!) our new house
TUESDAY- the day we learned we could NOT buy the house because it has lead paint on the exterior
TUESDAY- the day I had a million anxiety attacks (on the inside). I've got class, Baby
TUESDAY- the day the seller agreed to pay half the painting costs and delay closing. Halle-fucking-lujah
WEDNESDAY- the day I was told I HAD to pick a paint color ASAP, missed 2 hours of work going to 2 different Sherwin Williams stores with B, only to learn from our agent that the color we chose was the EXACT SAME as the next door neighbors. Fuuuuuuuuck!
WEDNESDAY- the day I learned Sherwin Williams stores (ALL of them, mind you. Trust me, I went to 3 with B) close at 6pm. FUUUUUUCK
THURSDAY- the day I woke up at 5:30am to be at SW at 6:50am to pick a new color in under 5 minutes. Damn, I'm good. Or completely batshit crazy
THURSDAY- We labeled said colors #1, #2, #3 in order of preference and left them with agent for seller approval (He's paying half and doesn't want to get stuck with a pink house. I don't blame him)
THURSDAY- The day seller approves our color (dark gray) but prefers #3 (light gray). Oh well, fuck him! Dark gray house! Yay!
THURSDAY- The day B & I drive past the house and it is being painted color #3. FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK!
THURSDAY- The day I call our real estate agent who tells me it will be a major issue to change the color at this point. The day B sulks around the house and gives the non-convincing "fine" when I ask how he's doing. The day we realize we're going to have a light gray house.
In reproductive news: I had a blood draw on Tuesday and another tomorrow. I'm supposed to POAS Monday for possible knocked-up news. I am so not counting on a BFP. I'm a complete hypochondriac and I haven't noticed a single weird symptom. This just makes me sad and does not elicity profanity. Just a big sigh....
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
So, yesterday I celebrated my 11th annual 21st birthday. You do the math. The festivities consisted of eating sushi until my belly was distended like one of those starving children in Africa (I know this comment is in poor taste and FYI- I love those buggers and bawl my eyes out every time I see one of those commercials. But not as much as I cry when I see homeless animal commercials. Jesus people! You've got to STOP with the showing of the sad animals on TV! I can't handle it!!!). Oops. Where was I? Oh yeah, starving children & sushi. THEN I ate a ginormous piece of cheesecake. There was almost a little scuffle with the cake. It went something like this:
B & I were driving home from dinner:
Me: I want cake
B: You just ate enough sushi to feed Shamu. Are you serious?
Me: I WANT CAKE!
B: :: ignores scary birthday girl:::
Sitting on the couch at home:
Me: I want cake
B: You should go to the store and get some
Me: It's MY birthday! Will you go get me cake?
B: I'll get you cake if you fold the laundry
Me: :::commence husband beat-down:::.....
B: FINE! What do you want? (please note his tone was dripping with birthday resentment. I would have liked a little more excitement about the fact that 31 years ago the world was blessed with my arrival, but whatev. At least I got my cake!)
My birthday was also marked by lots of birthday wishes on Facebook. Among them, a "Happy Birthday Erin!" (please note, this is NOT MY NAME!) Hilarious.
AND... my trigger shot! (please note, NONE of the doctors noticed it was my birthday, even though I told them my date of birth at least 3 different times yesterday. I'm thinking about firing them for such a gross oversite....harumph. So the trigger wasn't as bad as I was afraid. It's a smart thing those nurses stick you in the ass so you don't have to see that giant needle hurdling towards your poor little helpless body. Here's the bad part about getting it in the ass (Ha! I just said getting it in the ass!)- It's not such a great spot when you have gas. Which I did. And the nurse was kneeling on the ground right with her face about 3 inches from my butt.
I should mention, I'm new to the whole holding-it-in-thing. I didn't know how to do it until about 2 years ago. And it's harder for me to suck that putrid air biscuit back in when I'm standing. So Gas+Poor Control + Nurse Face in the Ass with a needle = BAD. So I stood there and held my gas like I've never tried to hold it before. I may have even prayed a little (my parents would be so proud). And SUCCESS! The gas stayed in! Thank you birthday fairies!!!
And that is how I spent my special day.
Side-note: I usually have the worst birthdays in the world. The following things have happened on my birthday: Mount St. Helen's erupted and killed millions of people (okay, this one didn't effect me, but it was BAD. Like sad-animal-bad bad), I got chicken pox, I got the flu, all my friends forgot my birthday, I got detention, I got into a car accident, I was in a tornado, and a boyfriend broke up with me. Awesome.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Also Known As: I Failed Poetry
Thou art the booger in the nose of the internet
With your promise of smug satisfaction
Seeing pictures of those who peeked in high school
Rejected me in high school
Because I was Queen of Wannabe's in high school
Lost their hair, their wives, their self-respect, and....hygiene?
But found Jesus and a few Hundred(?) pounds of weight
Still living with their parents
Your promise of schadenfreude in ex-boyfriends
Lamenting their single status in updates*
Sporting a few Hundred(?) pounds of weight
And tragic shirts I helped pick out in the 90s (?!)
Working at Chik-Fil-A**
While I posted my hawt wedding pictures
My professional success
And smug updates
Oh Facebook, you Turncoat
With your ultrasound pictures
Status updates recording
Shopping for Maternity Clothes
Baby Weights, Lengths, Names, Times Born
Friends on Babies Number
When did I leave the land of Smug and join the Tragic Parade?
I hate facebook
** I effing love their waffle fries. No wonder you are 200 pounds heavier now. Who could resist???
Monday, May 11, 2009
..and sperm that swim like Michael Phelps (when he's not smoking a bowl). These are things I'm thankful for!
We've.got.sperm. Hearing that news was the first time in this whole process I realized we could actually get pregnant. It could happen. We're even thinking about going the old fashioned boot-knocking route this cycle over an IUI. It wouldn't quite fit the old fashioned baby-making way since we've got medicine on our side. But, in the midst of buying a house, we could really save the money. Hail Mary Pass, here we come!
Other fert news: My HSG showed clear tubes! But damn if it didn't hurt like a bitch! I started to cry and I even screamed at one point (Yeah, I'm a total pansy). But I think the woman was trying to make cave drawings in my ute with that catheter deal. When the woman by my head said, "She's crying" the woman down in the business area started to really move things along. She was like, "Go! Go! Go! Log roll left! Log roll right!" It was kind of like a radiology-meets-lumberjack-competition extravaganza. I appreciated her willingness to expedite the process since I thought I might just die.
For the record, I also appreciate all you readers and your wonderful comments. You are the cream cheese to my cranberry bagel.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
I have officially turned into a whiner. B calls me a Princess all the time (and not in a complimentary way), but now I am full-on Veruca Salt. I justify this bitchtastic behavior with more whining about my situation. Pull up your chairs, little ones, and I'll tell you a sad tale.
There are benchmarks in a woman's life- home, work, and family. I am currently in the Trifecta (aka- Shitstorm) of said benchmarks. Behold my reasoning:
Benchmark 1- I did a little searcharoo the other day and realized we started searching (meaning, physically
going out to look at homes) on April 21, 2008. Yes, my friends. B and I have been in this House Rat Race for over.a.year. Update: We are currently under contract for House #11, passed inspection last week (whaaa?!), and are now in unchartered territory. Now, this is actually good news. I'm just tired of trying to buy a house and getting disappointed. I keep waiting for proverbial shoe to drop. So, I'm stressed. We're supposed to close on the 28th. Wish us luck! Oh, and I chose a gingerbread house because I'm into comfort-eating these days. YUM!
Benchmark 2- Work. More than Rumor has it my company is being sold. So....hm...job security is pretty nonexistant. Now, I don't really like my job. In fact, my first emotional response to learning we were being sold was AAAAH! HAPPINESS! I have an offer to do exactly what I want- Private Practice!- Heading up a division of a friend's business. Yay!!! Now, that means I might rich bitch, but not for a while. For awhile I'll be po' fo' sho.' Now, There's no guaruntee I'm going to lose my job. I plan on playing things Kate Winslet-style and stay on the Titanic as long as possible whilst wittling myself a life raft. But I am STRESSED!
Benchmark 3- Maybe you haven't heard but I can't have babies. Yeah, it sucks. Blame stress, blame Clomid, or blame my insurance, but I was boo-hooing in my stupid cube on Friday. Anybody else think crying at work is the WORST??? I have my HSG tomorrow, we haven't heard back on B's spermies (Hello? It's been 10 days!), and my best friend just had Baby #2 Friday. Ugh. Nuf said.
End Whine. Veruca out.
Now Warm Fuzzies! I am infinitely thankful for the following things: B, our dog, a roof over my head, B, an emergency fund, almost no credit card debt, beer, wine, B, my family, my friends, my 32C tatas, sunshine, ponies, and rainbows.