The Next Stage

I was supposed to be taking Clomid this cycle. I was supposed to get a trigger shot from my husband, which absolutely terrifies me. This was supposed to be our first month to actually have a decent chance. Instead, I have a cyst. Apparently I didn’t ovulate until 5 days before my period and so I have a nice cyst left over from that. So it’s on to the next cycle.

My mom tried to tell me that maybe I needed to wait. Maybe things needed to calm down a bit before all of this started. I mostly kept my cool, but did inform her that waiting isn’t an option. I’ve been waiting for four years. I’m tired of waiting.

I had an interview for a job I really wanted a couple of weeks ago. I did not get the job, and it kind of devastated me. I rocked the job interview, but apparently someone else was better suited for the position. I am, quite frankly, over-qualified, but I stressed during the interview how much I wanted this particular position. It was part time. I would have a very very short commute and a very low amount of responsibility. It was perfect for someone who has to drive 45 minutes to the doctor 2-3 times a month. Oh well.

The temp agency keeps calling me, but I’m not willing to commute an hour to work so that’s kind of been a bust. Last time I talked to them, I told them that I had too much going on right now and I would call them when things settled down. I need to figure some things out.

Also, we’re moving next week. Our landlord decided he wanted to sell our house, plus we’ve discovered how expensive living here actually is thanks to $400 electricity bills. I’m excited about our new house. It’s going to be about 500 square feet smaller, but I won’t have to worry about dirty carpet, ant infestations, or paying to cool it in the 105° weather. This will be my sixth move since January of 2010. I hope it’s my last for awhile.

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The Boring Life

I haven’t written because I have nothing to say. I feel like my life is probably pretty boring to everyone but me.

We’re moving, so that’s something. After receiving a $400 electricity bill, we’re opting to move into military housing next month. We’re going to lose roughly 500 square feet, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It’s worth it, though, to not pay out the ass for utilities.

I had a hysterosonogram on Monday and everything came back fine, as far as I know. The doctor who did it wasn’t my normal doctor, but he seemed impressed with my uterus/tubes/ovaries. My husband has his semen analysis on Monday, so after that we’ll know if there’s hope for us to conceive naturally.

Oh, I also had an interview at a temp agency last week. It went well, but I’m still really unsure of this whole job thing. I’ve enjoyed being at home, but it gets boring. I think I need a new hobby. Or some friends.

I don’t think my husband quite grasps that I. Am. Infertile. I’m so angry at him today, and I don’t want to be, but we have an appointment this week with a fertility clinic and I need him to get a grip. He also keeps treating me like I’ve never applied for a job before and telling me that I need to call people I’ve applied with and whatnot. Because he totally helped me get all my previous jobs. /sarcasm. I haven’t felt so unsupported in a really long time and I feel like no amount of explaining things to him is going to make him realize what a shitty support system he’s been and how he can make it better. He sprung a friend’s surprise pregnancy on me while driving home from the airport, after a flight with a fussy, teething baby on it. I cried. I’ve been crying. I don’t want to be always crying. Oh, and he also told me to get over my anxiety, so there’s that. I’m just sitting here asking myself what happened to the man I married. I hate this.

I Must Be Adopted

I have now been in my hometown for 14 days of a 16 day trip. So far, I have: been yelled at by my mother for not spending enough time with her even though she works every day, argued with my mom and stepdad about gay/black people, been told by my grandmother how disappointed she is in me because I didn’t go to the family reunion that I never planned to go to in the first place, had the same grandmother tell me that she thought I would call HER after she forgot my fucking birthday, took a car ride with a two year old who was NOT strapped in and was called paranoid, dove my mom to get food while she drank her beer and was called paranoid, and lots of other little things that make me want to run screaming from this place.

Yep, I’m home.

It really fucking sucks that me standing up for myself/others gets me labeled as paranoid or naive or “young.” (Thanks?) What sucks for them is that I’ve never been more confident in my beliefs or my choices. And my best choice is waiting on my paranoid, young, naive self half way across the country. And to think, I was worried about being so far away from my family…

Oh, I forgot the cherry on top. My mom spent 15 minutes telling me about all the couples she knows who have lived “fulfilling” lived without kids.

I can’t even begin to articulate my day.

I have a referral for a fertility clinic, so that’s new and terrifying.

I spent all morning attempting to not throw up. Then I had blood work done and spent that time attempting to not pass out.

Some news I’ve been waiting to pop up in my hometown’s newspaper was finally there, but it still hurts like I had no warning. A family member of mine was murdered and her murderer has copped a plea deal to serve significantly less time than his original sentence. It’s distressing.

Two weeks until I board a plane and head to my home state for a friend’s wedding. I celebrate my wedding anniversary next weekend and a four day weekend with my husband this weekend. Hopefully we’ll get some hiking time in and maybe even a round of putt putt. In the mean time, I’m on the job hunt and re-watching 30 Rock.

Also, my dog keeps farting at me and that’s not helping my ever-lingering nausea.

Mother’s Day

There is literally no worse day to be an infertile than on Mother’s Day.

Worse, yet, is being an infertile and seeing a pregnant (former?) infertile rejoicing about Mother’s Day and completely forgetting where she came from. This particular person lamented the time it took her to get pregnant and stood up as a face of infertility. She should be a sympathizer. And now, it’s like she wants to forget everything she went through.

I’ve been working on a baby blanket for this couple for a few weeks now and I just cannot get motivated. I’ve contemplated just not making them one, but I’ve known this couple for most of my life and it seems awfully petty to not make them one. Yet, every time I see a “we’re taking bets on the birthday and gender!” post, I want to scream.

I spent my day looking at model homes and planning for the (hopefully) near future when we can be homeowners again.

Also, my fur babies let me sleep until 11 this morning. So take that, moms.

*sigh*

Oh, Arkansas.

Before I moved to California, I lived in Arkansas for four years. Yesterday, the state’s ban on gay marriage was overturned in a major human rights victory. I have been astonished at some of the bigoted vitriol I’ve read by people claiming to be Christians, but the craziest are those saying two men or two women shouldn’t be able to get married because they can’t reproduce.

Let me get this straight. A marriage between two people who love each other shouldn’t be allowed <i>because they cannot have children “naturallly.</i> By that logic, my marriage shouldn’t be legal. I will never have a child with my husband without the help of fertility drugs or maybe even IUI or IVF. By that logic, people who choose not to have children should not be allowed to get married. I’m pretty sure that my childless marriage and others’ gay marriages aren’t doing a damn thing to ruin the sanctity of straight people’s second, third, or fourth marriage. And could people please quit quoting Leviticus? If you want to follow Old Testament rules, let’s stone women who aren’t virgins when they get married while we’re at it. Quit picking which parts of the Bible are convenient to follow. It’s annoying to those of us who aren’t interested.

While I’m on my soapbox, can people also please quit comparing gay marriage to bestiality? Humans will never marry animals because animals are not legally capable of giving consent. Your dog cannot agree to marry you or have sex with you. The same applies to pedophilia. Children cannot give consent. Period. So let’s just stop with this, ok?