There Is No Try

I saw the Lady Parts Doctor in October for my annual exam.  I passed  (I studied hard) but not before she quizzed me on important topics such as how much I drink, whether I smoke and of course, my birth control habits.

She didn’t ask whether I was using any birth control.  She asked what form I was using.  I just had to roll my eyes a little at silly Lady Parts Doctor.   She just assumed that I was on birth control because otherwise, I would be poppin’ out those babies like a rabbit.  She assumed that I was normal,  bless her heart.

I was honest.  I told her I wasn’t using any birth control*. I stopped filling the birth control prescription in August.  “So, you’re trying,” she stated, not questioned.  “Not exactly,” I said.  “If something happens, great, if it doesn’t great.”

“In my book, if you aren’t preventing, you’re trying,” she countered.  Touche, Lady Parts Doctor! You got me there! Ha, ha, not really.  I’m still not trying, no matter what magical powers you think Mr. X’s sperm have or how many stories you may have heard of infertile ladies getting knocked up the old fashioned way after Baby No. 1.  (Yes, I know some of these ladies, and no, I do not think I will be one of them. And that is just fine with me.)

We’re not “trying”, Lady Parts Doctor, because for us, trying to have a baby means we go see Dr. Salsa.  We’re not seeing Dr. Salsa, adorable as his Spanish accent might have been and no matter how darned effective he was at getting me knocked up.  Just having unprotected sex with my almost 36-year old eggs and a guy with a low sperm count does not count as trying in my book.   It counts as just having fun and seeing where the chips (or babies?) fall.

So, Lady Parts Doctor, no need to give me that knowing smile when you say you’ll see me in the new year.  I’ll be seeing you in the new year… for my next annual.  Maybe then we can talk about how I define trying.

*Does male factor infertility count?

In No Particular Order

Some random thoughts, just because.

I’m having a terrible time with writer’s block for this blog.  I have so many things swirling in my head, but every time I write something, I think it’s lame.  My delete key hasn’t seen this much action since I was in law school.  Anyone have some topics they’d like to share? Questions you’ve been dying to pose to me? I swear, the rut is making my head hurt. Even reading really good literature isn’t helping!

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I love listening to the dog snore, a pleasant rumble coming from behind the couch.  I’d like to think it means that he is content and feels safe enough to snooze as oppose to him snoozing just anywhere.  It’s also a nice contrast from when he barks.  Which to his credit is not as much as it used to be, but I’m sure the plumbers at the neighbor’s house were quaking in their workboots just the same this morning.

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Is the universe trying to tell me something? It took me three phone calls to request my refill for birth control pills.  The first time the system couldn’t validate my birth date.  Now, I admit that I’ve given Rex’s birthdate to the pharmacy so much now that I have to remind myself just who’s they’re asking for, but once I remember who’s it is, I know the date.  So, I don’t understand why my birthdate didn’t match Mr. Automaton’s records.  That was last night. This morning, it was my drunk dialing fingers even though I wasn’t drunk, I was just trying to do two things at once.  I got locked out the system because I couldn’t accurately type in my six digit prescription number. Really.  Once I finally did get it and Mr. Automaton was thrilled to confirm my phone number with my prescription number, he told me that the pharmacy is so damn lazy, they won’t have it ready until tomorrow morning.  I still haven’t decided if I will actually start taking the pills on Sunday.

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I mailed off the paperwork for our embryo donation yesterday.  Mr. X and I had our blood drawn last week as required.  I hope that we can make another infertile couple very happy.

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I am currently sporting at least two band-aids and will likely add a third here soon. First, last week I managed to get a second degree burn on my hand from pulling out a pizza from the oven.  Then, I got some random scratch on my arm that’s not looking very good. And, then this morning, I had a cortisone shot in my elbow – yes, my elbow – which hurt like a *(&^%$.  I swear, my epidural wasn’t that uncomfortable.  Has it helped?  Mmm. Jury’s still out while the elbow is on ice.  There were ominous discussions of arthritis (WTF? I’m 35!) and the possibility of having to have the offending joint ‘scoped’.  That’s in addition to my right knee which has decided to be gimpy again and has earned me an MRI.  I don’t even run anymore, so why is everything breaking now? I don’t exactly put a lot of strain on the system, you know? Ugh.

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Rex celebrated his 14 month birthday today by taking 5 steps! Of course, they were at daycare, but the twinge of sadness that I feel that he had this momentous occasion without me is more than made up for by the fact that he was with his Ladies at day care who showered him in praise for his achievement.  And, when he’s ready to walk for Mama, it will still be a first – for me at least.