What a week

Saturday morning, Mark and I discovered our brand new home had been broken into while we slept. The theives took our wakeboards, our snowboards, and the very special Ashland Longboard that I had made for Mark for his graduation present.

The design on the board featured a star and an anchor, to symbolize our relationship. He is represented by the star, the dreamer, the risk taker. I am represented by the anchor, the steady, the cautious, the grounded. Some punk kid is riding around on our marriage.

Tuesday I ran 22 miles. It was a good run, a good prep for the race in a few weeks.

Today when we woke up, the truck wouldn't start. Its leaking massive quantities of oil. We're down to one working vehicle until this weekend, when mark fixes the radiator in the miata.

And, I'm due to ovulate any minute now--I had a positive OPK, and for the first time, I've had loads of EWCM. Fingers crossed that this is the cycle that changes everything. :)

Thirteen

"Whoa, that's a lot of vials! are they all for me?"
"yes, but I'll make it go quickly."
"How many are there"
"Thirteen."
"Thirteen? You know I just had blood drawn three days ago, right? Is this safe?"
"Perfectly. How are you feeling?"

a good night's sleep

There's nothing like it in the world, is there?

Metformin seems to completely negate the insomnia effect of the Clomid. I slept so good and so hard, and I feel so utterly refreshed. And have not experienced any side effects from the met. Of course, its just one dose, but I was told my body would adjust within a week, so if I'm not feeling side effects after the first dose, my body may not need to adjust.

So far, I'm feeling really hopeful about this course of treatment. And, of course, seeing an RE next month.

Life could not be more unfair.

I am due to start my period on February 11th. The day of my marathon.

Somebody in the cosmos thinks this is funny, but I don't.

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead

My evil gynecologist has retired.

I've spent the last hour on the phone with three different doctor's offices trying to coordinate an appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist. And now I feel like complete shit. Why are they so mean? Why can't they just be NICE to people?

Anyway, long story short, I'm not going to be able to see an RE until the end of February, which means I won't be able to get any treatment until two cycles from now. I'm so upset, I just want to cry and cry and cry.

I know part of this is the clomid, that its affecting my mood and making me more upset. And now I'm wondering if I should even be TAKING this clomid at all, and I just want a normal life again.

I wish I didn't want to have kids. I wish I could shed my want like a snake sheds its skin.
I'd make an awful buddhist. because, while I recognize that they are right, the root of all suffering is desire, I can't seem to let go of this thing.

30

I was driving down the road last night, headed back from the grocery store, and thinking about the state of my life. I'm going to be thirty in just under 8 months. I have a house and a bunch of cars and a husband and all my friends are married (except for Ana who just got engaged last week) and most of us are trying to have kids, and several have kids already.

And I realized, all my "problems" and dramas are so adult, so pedestrian, so boring.

I mean for god's sake, infertility Aimee??? Where the fuck are your rock star credentials? Turn in your cool card right now lady. Yeah, so what if you run marathons--running marathons is not cool, it's geeky in an "I love pain" kind of way. Nope, a ten year old tattoo is not going to earn you any leeway on this. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, get your ass to midlife purgatory and start figuring out how you can be any more like your parents. Maybe take up knitting.

30. For fuck's sake. When did you get the idea that it would be okay to grow up? When did you stop playing around and get serious? When did you start worrying about your liver, of all things? (and don't pretend you're not, I'm inside your head, I know these things).

30. You don't even read cosmo anymore. Now you just read Elle Decor and Shape and Runner's World. (geek)

30. You have more recipes than your mother.

30. You actually choose wine based on taste, not because it has a cool bottle.

30. Fucking geezer.

I'm running a marathon in less than 5 weeks

I am going to complete my third marathon in three years, my third marathon by age 30. My third marathon. the nerves are starting to set in. Four months ago I had never run more than 10 miles without stopping to walk. On Sunday, I ran 22 miles, in the rain, no walk breaks.

I told myself before every long run, "If you found out you were pregnant tomorrow and couldn't do the race, this should be a run you can be proud of." Well, I'm proud of every run I've done in training for this race, and I'm going to be proud of the race too.

Training for a marathon is a journey of self-discovery. Even though I've done this twice before, I've learned new things about myself now. I've learned that pride is a better motivator than fear. I've learned that the body will do what is asked, as long as it is asked nicely. I've learned that I am capable of more than I had ever believed.

Anything is possible. Hope feels good.

Day One.

immer wieder

12 DPO Negative pregnancy tests

This morning I was very nauseous immediately after getting up. It went away when I ate a chocolate chip cookie. Sort of. It didn't completely go away, but it went away a lot.

I also have been experiencing very strange cramps for about 12 hours now. They are down very low, and they don't feel like menstrual cramps.

I took another pregnancy test and it was negative. I am going out of my mind thinking that every little twinge and ache I feel might be a symptom. Also, the skin between my breasts is lumpy this morning. Not like a rash, just weird. Like the skin texture has changed. So on top of being 2WW worried, I have this lumpy boob thing to occupy my already anxiety-addled brain.