<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:43:35.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gidget Life</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a story of a girl and a boy trying to enjoy life and expand their family.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-1122066300255138392</id><published>2009-04-09T15:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T15:24:59.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is about more than fertility</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Right?  I think so.  And...since it's my blog I am going to use it to complain a little bit.  I turned in my notice at my job a few weeks ago.  They had offered me a promotion, but I realized that I just wasn't happy there.  I decided that I wanted more freedom and that I wanted to be my own boss.  I am so happy with my decision.  It is validated every day.  I want a job where I can work when I want or not work when I don't want.  I want a job where I can take every Friday afternoon off to stay home with a child (when that happens for us).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The problem with all of this is that I led my current (and soon to be old) job to believe that I wanted to stay.  It's not like I misled them, though, because I really did want to stay there.  There were several turns of fate that led to my new decision--and a lot of it had to do with our loss and fertility.  Some of it did have to do with my current unhappiness at work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The place I work is routed in academia.  As such, it is one big (un)happy dysfunctional family.  I thought I fit in there.  I thought it was my home.  I realized that it's not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Anyway, I'm rambling.  The problem is that I have seen people leave before.  I have watched the way that they criticize and backstab.  I have watched, and I haven't liked it.  I *knew* that was going to happen to me.  I just knew it.  It turns out that you aren't really prepared for it, no matter how much you *know* something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;My boss, who just a few weeks ago told me I was the best, most hardest (ha), most smartest worker ever......well, he's clearly changed opinions of me.  It turns out that he now thinks I am lazy (along with everyone else apparently) and don't complete my assignments.  He has threatened me twice in three days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I am the current epitome of learned helplessness.   They did this experiment with rats where they put them in a cage where they couldn't get away and they shocked them.  Initially, the rats tried to run away from the shock.  However, after realizing that they couldn't get out, they just sat there and took it.  Then, the experimenters removed the cage (so that the rat could get away) and continued to shock the rats.  Guess what happened?  Yep.  Learned helplessness.  The rats didn't even try to get away.  They just sat there and took it.  I feel like that's where I am right now.  The only difference?  When my cage is removed, I am OUT OF THERE.  I am not sitting there to continue to be shocked.  Thank God for all of the horrible things that happened this year that have allowed me to re-evaluate my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;If I could just leave now, I would.  I can't though.  I have two months to finish.  I have worked so hard for this.  I hate that this happened.  I hate the way he's treating me.  I hate that he has power over me, and that I am forced to sit there and take it.  I hate all of it.  I look so forward to June 30 when I can walk out of those doors forever.  I don't know that I will ever look back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-1122066300255138392?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1122066300255138392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=1122066300255138392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1122066300255138392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1122066300255138392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/life-is-about-more-than-fertility.html' title='Life is about more than fertility'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-6838864072527028399</id><published>2009-04-07T15:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T15:23:01.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you ever feel like this is punishment?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;For what, I am not quite sure.  It definitely definitely feels like punishment though.  I can't quite explain it to people who haven't been through it, and I don't know why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Of course, the logical side of me says that it's not punishment.  It's just this bad thing that happens to some people.  It doesn't mean I am a bad person or have done something bad to deserve this.  It doesn't mean that people who do get pregnant are being rewarded for all the good things they have done.  It doesn't really matter though, because my emotional side FAR FAR outweighs the logical side sometimes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I was raised Southern Baptist.  You know how people say that Catholic people have guilt?  Southern Baptists do too.  The really sad thing is that the infertility and our loss have made me question everything--including religion.  I hate that but I also strangely welcome it.  I have a hard time believing in a God that allows these things to happen.....that gives children to women who abuse and neglect them.  My husband says I should base my religious beliefs on facts, not experiences.  I agree with him....to a point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;How do you remove experiences and emotion from religion?  A lot of what makes a person (and a religion frankly) is experiences and emotion.  Why else would church attendance be at it's highest during times of depression and recession?   Of course it's because people are looking for hope, and they think they'll find it at church.  Unfortunately for me, I'm not really finding it anywhere anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I am left with a set of weird beliefs.  One is that a God that does this or allows this to happen to women who are infertile sucks--I'm not entirely sure that is a God that I want to worship.  So maybe this isn't God?  Maybe this is just random and shit happens?  Maybe God is removed from us and just watches from the sidelines?  I don't think I want to worship that God either.  If He is there, He has seen how much we have hurt this year.  He knows the hurt that is facing us later this month when the due date hits us.  He knows the long road ahead......and what does He do?  Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  He doesn't comfort.  He doesn't provide places for hope.  No, instead, he puts pregnant people everywhere around me who complain about being pregnant so that I am keenly aware that they are not aware of the blessing that they have.  He puts a surgery ahead of us.  He does....nothing.  Why would I want to worship a God who does nothing when his followers are hurting?  It seems to me that if you truly have mercy and compassion for others, then you will do whatever you can to ease their burden.  It seems to me that he does not do that.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Which leads me to my final question.  If all of that is true, then what?  Either he's not there at all and life is random or God is a sadistic bastard (to quote my husband).  I am not sure which one I believe.  I struggle because I don't believe in a literal interpretation of the Bible.  I never have....not even when I was a child.  It just didn't make sense to me.  It still doesn't actually. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;This is a topic we've been working on.  We were both brought up in extremely religious homes.  We both went to church several times a week.  I even went on a 2 month long mission trip in college and pretty much devoted my college to God.  I think maybe I regret that now.  I wish I had used that time to figure out what I really believed rather than blindly following the herd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Of course I can never tell my family any of this.  We are dutiful children on major religious holidays.  We haven't been to church in over a year.....nor are we necessarily motivated to do so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Now I'm back at my original question.  The guilt.  I feel bad for even thinking this way.  I feel like infertility is punishment for my lack of faith.  I feel like I don't even deserve to be a mommy or to make my husband a daddy because we don't believe in God.  I hate that I feel this way because I don't even believe those things, logically.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Where do they get off passing all this guilt on to unsuspecting children that will then follow them around their whole life?  It's punishment either way I tell you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-6838864072527028399?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6838864072527028399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=6838864072527028399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6838864072527028399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6838864072527028399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/do-you-ever-feel-like-this-is.html' title='Do you ever feel like this is punishment?'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-4170093229692124818</id><published>2009-04-03T17:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T17:09:59.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Sucks Right Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I need to vent because I am so freaking bummed out right now! The doctor scheduled surgery for May 8th, but we had time for one more cycle before then. I was just keeping my fingers crossed that my left ovary would cooperate and ovulate.  I kept hoping that maybe, just maybe, we'd get pregnant so that I wouldn't have to do surgery. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I went in for my CD12 ultrasound this morning. It turns out that I have two follicles, both on the right. The doctor is so pessimistic about this cycle that they aren't even going to do an IUI because they think it's a waste of $400 since that right tube is blocked.   It's a sad day when not even your doctor is on your side.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The only good thing they said to me?  "It doesn't look good for this month, but ultimately it's not going to happen in our time.  It'll happen in His time."   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm just bummed out! Why can't this go right?  I feel like a big old fool for even holding out hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-4170093229692124818?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4170093229692124818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=4170093229692124818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4170093229692124818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4170093229692124818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/life-sucks-right-now.html' title='Life Sucks Right Now'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-7215477191156513501</id><published>2009-04-01T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T20:43:48.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow.  Just.....Wow.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;My husband woke up from his nap shortly after my last post, but I wasn't aware of it.  He called me upstairs to snug.  I was so excited, like a kid in a candy shop.  I love being near him.  I ran upstairs and climbed into bed with him.  The feeling of his arms around me is so amazing, soothing, and comforting.  I don't think I can even begin to tell him how much I love him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I was enjoying being held and talked to when he started to whisper sweet-nothings to me.  I'm sighing just thinking about him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Needless to say, my needs were met......multiple times. ;)  I'm such a lucky woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-7215477191156513501?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7215477191156513501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=7215477191156513501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7215477191156513501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7215477191156513501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/wow-justwow.html' title='Wow.  Just.....Wow.'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-3838244726862291694</id><published>2009-04-01T18:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T18:25:06.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So frustrated</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I am so frustrated.  These medications for ovulation make me feel really emotionally (and sexually unfortunately) needy.  That would be fine if our lives were different.....but they're not!  It just doesn't seem conducive to a healthy marriage to have one partner become a freak for a few weeks a month.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;My poor DH is working a ton lately, and he is exhausted.  I think he is just not in the mood to deal with me, on either front really.  This just leaves me feeling, well....frustrated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;So far, I've had a nap, surfed the internet, washed clothes, planned an outfit for him for a work presentation that he has tomorrow, watched TV, made dinner.  It's only 8:30!!!  He's upstairs taking a nap b/c he has been working long hours.  I tried to wake him from his nap by snugging, but he was having none of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Now I'm back downstairs by myself watching the end of the Green Mile and bored to tears.  I just need someone to hold me.  :(    Stupid medicine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-3838244726862291694?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3838244726862291694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=3838244726862291694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/3838244726862291694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/3838244726862291694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/so-frustrated.html' title='So frustrated'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-1333175175036376402</id><published>2009-03-31T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T14:35:28.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am so bad...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;and I love it!  I'm going to make a confession here.  Note that I will deny this confession to my dying day.  I will deny it to the doctor.  Deny, deny, deny, deny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;A few months ago, my old RE's office accidentally called in 150IU of follistim instead of 75 IU.  I haven't used this vial and it's just been sitting here.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Flash forward to this weekend when I accidentally forgot to take femara.  What was I thinking you ask?  I have no freaking clue!  I woke up and took it the next morning, and I ended up with a double dose on day #7 (but no meds on day #6, oops).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;So guess what I did today?  I pulled out that 150 IU vial, and I just injected myself with it.  I was supposed to do 75 IU today, but I figured what the hell?  I need my left ovary to work, and I REALLY want to get pregnant this month for all the reasons mentioned below.....the least of which is to avoid surgery!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm hoping I don't regret it later this week when I go in for my ultrasound check!  Please please please work dang it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Ok, confession over.  I'll confess my other sins later! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-1333175175036376402?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1333175175036376402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=1333175175036376402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1333175175036376402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1333175175036376402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-so-bad.html' title='I am so bad...'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-4625143513912717388</id><published>2009-03-25T15:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T15:37:27.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunch with a Fellow Infertiler!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I had lunch today with a girl that I went to high school with who is also infertile.  She has been doing treatments for 1.5 years, but they have only done 4 cycles because her doctor has made her take so many months off.  I am heartbroken for her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I feel so fortunate in light of her situation, and that makes me feel pretty bad for all of my sadness.  We have, after all, been able to get pregnant once and we have had many more cycles (because of a more aggressive RE).  I have to assume that we will one day get pregnant again, right?  The key is that I want it to be a sticky one this time around!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I guess this is my lesson to just be thankful for what you have!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-4625143513912717388?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4625143513912717388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=4625143513912717388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4625143513912717388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4625143513912717388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/lunch-with-fellow-infertiler.html' title='Lunch with a Fellow Infertiler!'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-6933939842019197620</id><published>2009-03-24T16:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T16:23:16.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hopeful but Sad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't know if I told you guys, but I actually bought one of those psychic readings a while back.  Actually, I bought two.  One gave me a January date.  The other one gave me a December 2008-April 2009 timeframe, but she was leaning toward early April.  These two only match up this month.  This one month.  Unfortunately, I am really hopeful this month.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have to admit that I was really hopeful in January too, but then the world came crashing down around me....and that really sucked.  The crazy thing is that I don't even believe in psychics.  I hate hate hate that I ordered it.  I feel like I have wronged God in some way, but I don't understand that completely either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I ordered them at a time in my life when I was really sad about our prior loss.  I was looking for hope, but I wasn't finding it anywhere.  I prayed and looked for hope from God, but I wasn't finding answers there.  I'm still not really finding answers from Him, but I want to.  So I turned to something else.  I feel like I almost turned to the dark-side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The crazier part of it all?  The description that they gave me matched perfectly.....even though they were given from two totally different people.  I feel as if I am setting myself up for failure.  I kept begging God to make me pregnant at another time so that these predictions won't be right.  What does it mean if they are right?  That he is wrong?  That there is something out there?  Or maybe that he allowed me to find hope from them at a time when I really needed it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I would love to get pregnant this month for several reasons.  One of which is that I am tired of ttc, emotionally drained and tired.  Another is that my RE wants to do surgery in May.  I have time for one last cycle before this surgery hits us.  I want want want to avoid surgery so bad.  Of course I will do the surgery if I have to.  Another reason is that I can't imagine another holiday season not pregnant dealing with my cousin, fertile myrtle who just won't shut up about it.  Last Christmas almost killed me.  I spent the entire season in tears.  I don't want to do that again, but I don't want to avoid my family for the whole season either (which I really may do if we are not pregnant by then).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Time will Tell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;For funsies, here are the two separate "readings."  I'd love to know what you all in bloggerdom think!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;Reading #1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Im seeing a conceive/find out between Dec of 2008 and April 2009. I'm leaning towards later winter/early April, but the spirits are still showing a possibility of the months before that as well till Dec 2008.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm seeing a boy with the pregnancy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;1st thing im seeing with your son is that it feels like he loves being caught up in a million things at once. Like everything will always have his attention. He never seems to stay on one specific thing for long and if he does it will have to be something that provides alot of fireworks to him.  Say when hes a baby he would have to a have a toy that is alot of colors, noises, sparkles, etc.. for it to keep his attention for a very long time.  The more wow factor to things the better. Because of this I see him being one who really loves doing projects like making something out of wood,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;fixing the car, etc.. but will never complete this and he will do this ALL of the time. No matter how much he says he is going full force into something it will always be left by the wayside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;2nd thing im seeing with your son is that he will definatly have a BIG intellect. Even from a young age he will carry around alot of information in  his head that most 2 year olds wouldnt know. Alot of people will label him geeky and nerdy from how much smarts im seeing with him. He will ALWAYS be on the search for getting new information to fill his brain as I see he feels really alive when he has something to grasp on education wise. Whether its spending all day on the computer finding out about frogs or reading a book to discover how to make a paper airplane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;Reading #2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;BOY - JAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Fireman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;When it comes to your son, hes definitely a guys guy. He LOVES to wrestle with his dad, always inventing their own WWE type wrestling. IT can be either thumb wrestling, arm wrestling or straight out wrestling around on the ground, He just likes to rumble with his dad and have a good time. They  show him usually having a lighter brown hair color, hes one that is a bit fussy about how it looks and hates to have it long. They show slight spiky around the front and top, but the rest of its cut REALLY short, almost like a buzz cut. For him, whatever is easiest and fastest as hes not one to sit still too long for long periods of time. He likes moving around, he likes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;action, he likes to have fun. Usually not the type to want to do things that require you to sit there, he gets easily bored and will often find ways of entertaining himself. From playing wtih his cars, to wrestling with his dad.. he just likes to be occupied. When reading a book wtih him, as long as you make it interesting by making funny voices, or asking him to point to certain characters then he will sit and read the book with you. He loves anything action related, things that will be like army figures or spider man type toys..etc.  When it comes to your son, hes always trust worthy. You can really count on him to be there when you need him. Always the first one to step up to the plate when something is going wrong. If hes ever done something to hurt someone, hes the first to either apologize or explain himself. Not one to do  something like that intentionally. Hes got a good heart.  When it comes to career paths, they show him linked to working as a  fireman, eventually going into more of a specialist type field and going with investigation into how something like that got started..etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;When it comes to marriage i See him closer to 26, they will have two boys of  their own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-6933939842019197620?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6933939842019197620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=6933939842019197620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6933939842019197620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6933939842019197620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/hopeful-but-sad.html' title='Hopeful but Sad'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-7144811000312966042</id><published>2009-03-22T18:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T18:47:16.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;So this blog has not been about infertility much lately.  It's probably because other things in life have taken importance over that, for now at least.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I have about one week to decide on a job.  I have so many concerns about opening my own business.  Health insurance is a major major concern of mine because fertility treatments are so darn expensive.  I had $8000 of tax deductions last year from fertility treatments b/c my old insurance didn't pay for treatment.  We FINALLY have an insurance company that will pay, and what happens?  I give that job up?  I go back to uncertainty and expense?  Or I take a job with a settled company and take their good health insurance and move forward with treatment?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Is that short-sighted of me?  I can't decide.  If you ask me what is more important--career or family?  Family will win out every single time.  Unfortunately the career is what is going to keep the family afloat.  What is the best for the family?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I don't know the answer to that question.  It freaks me out to think about starting my own business.  If grad school had decent insurance that we could rely on for a little while, then I would feel much much better.  I know Warren will have the best benefits in the future because teaching has way better benefits, but the unknown is killing me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I am not a gambler.  I am a planner.  I am not a risk-taker, with anything at all.  Maybe, deep down, that is why fertility treatments bug me so bad.  I can't plan.  I don't know when or if we will ever have a child.  It sucks.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;But....I can plan my career.  I can have some control over that.  Is it wrong to want that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-7144811000312966042?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7144811000312966042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=7144811000312966042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7144811000312966042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7144811000312966042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-this-blog-has-not-been-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-234180132977395668</id><published>2009-03-19T17:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T17:36:03.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I broke the news</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Well, I did it.  I broke the news to my mentors at work that I probably will be leaving the university.  It was, by far, the hardest thing I have done in awhile.  Even though I have settled my mind on opening my own practice and "doing my own thing," this was definitely bittersweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I thought I would feel more free.  I felt very sad.  I even choked up a time or two.  I explained to them about the infertility process and how it affects my decision.  They said that they understand, and of course want me to stay to work with them, but they want me to be happy.  I appreciate that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I think I will be happy in private practice, but I can't help but worry because it is such a huge change from what I thought my future would hold.  I have spent the last four years devoted to my mentors at the university and telling everyone (including myself) that I definitely wanted to stay.  How can I just give that up so easily?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Honestly, it hasn't been that easy.  I think I have been through all of the stages of bereavement---and they suck!  I just pray I am making the right decision.....for myself, for my husband, and for our future family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;In other news--beta hcg was negative today.  Big surprise there.  I have become the amazing infertile lady.  I just don't understand how we got pregnant so quickly the first time only to have it take so long this time around! :(  It makes me sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-234180132977395668?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/234180132977395668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=234180132977395668' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/234180132977395668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/234180132977395668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-broke-news.html' title='I broke the news'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-7274172127149443131</id><published>2009-03-05T15:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T15:58:44.771-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fertility Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;That is what this website is supposed to be about, right?  I went in for the post-coital test this morning.  Guess what?  It turns out that W's spermies make it through my cervix, but then they completely stop swimming.  Lazy little buggers.  I don't know if they just wear out easily or if it has something to do with going through the cervix.  Either way, we're doing IUI's from here on out.  We've got our first one on Saturday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I've got only one dominant follicle this month.  I am actually okay with that.  The thought of ending up like crazy-lady octomom was not making me happy last month.  I much much much prefer to just have one baby at a time.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;In other good news?  The dominant follie I just mentioned.....it's on my LEFT SIDE!  Hallelujah to my left ovary for figuring out how to ovulate.  If I could, I would go down there and give it a hug and a high-five!  This is good news because my left tube was open on the HSG, but my right tube was not completely open.  Ovulating on a bad tube x 6 months = no pregnancy.  Ovulation on a open tube = Yeah, parties, candies, etc!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm still out there in the job hunt.  I interviewed with a company today, and that job sounds like heaven.  It's got benefits, stability, FANTASTIC PAY, a half-day off each week, and it's 5 minutes from my house.  I have been thinking about opening my own private practice, but working with this other company sounds so wonderful, especially in this awful economy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;It'll be interesting to see how life plays out.  I can't help but think that decisions made now (both with fertility and work) will affect our future from years to come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-7274172127149443131?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7274172127149443131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=7274172127149443131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7274172127149443131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7274172127149443131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/fertility-update.html' title='Fertility Update'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-2404322502398405021</id><published>2009-03-03T16:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T16:40:07.330-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi, Ho, Hi, Ho.  It's off to work I go.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y8AkKnLMELo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y8AkKnLMELo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work has become such a huge concern for me lately.  I thought I was going to start a geriatric fellowship in July.  It turns out that the fellowship will probably not be accredited in time for me to start.  I have so many feelings and emotions about all of this.  I wonder why they didn't turn in the accreditation forms earlier?  I've been saying that I wanted to do the geriatric fellowship for four years.  It certainly is not a surprise to anyone.  The lack of accreditation is a big surprise for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The university says that they want me to stay.  They have promised me a job until the fellowship opens.  Can I do this?  Can I trust my future, my husband's future, and our family's future to a "maybe?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I spent my whole life thinking I was going to do the fellowship.  I have cried over this.  I have been angry and sad.  Perhaps the most shocking emotion?  Excitement.  Relief.  Feeling "free."  Free of the constraints that an academic career would hold from me.  Free from the responsibility of it all.  Free to see patients in my own office and only be responsible for my decisions.  Free to "start over."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm also really scared.  Is this a good economy to open my own private practice?  What if I am not happy in private practice?  What if I am not happy in the university?  What if I love private practice?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I can't help but think that this is the reason we miscarried earlier this year.  If we had not lost that child, I would be 8 months pregnant right now trying to find a job.  I think I probably would have settled for the university because I would have been scared of a future that is unknown coupled with a newborn child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Hopefully, God will see fit to put me in the right job.  I have been praying about it, and I feel like doors have been opening and closing.  I am looking for a family-friendly position.  I think my family comes first.  That means both my husband and our future children.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Interestingly, a lot has happened to us this month in the ttc arena.  I had the HSG and have a possible right tube blockage.  We have a mycoplasma infection that is probably contributing to the infertility.  We still don't know about the post-coital test.  In spite of this, I have not thought about ttc much.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I have thought about my wonderful husband and our life together.  We are a stronger, better couple now than ever before.  Best of all, the sex has been great!  It was like ttc had taken all the enjoyment out of it.  Not anymore!  Maybe there is something to relaxing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-2404322502398405021?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2404322502398405021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=2404322502398405021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/2404322502398405021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/2404322502398405021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/hi-ho-hi-ho-its-off-to-work-i-go.html' title='Hi, Ho, Hi, Ho.  It&apos;s off to work I go.'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-2724270017470917675</id><published>2009-02-24T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T13:52:41.378-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomorrow is D-day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;We have a new doctor.  A new doctor that we can trust.  I don't think I completely understood just how much having a doctor that I didn't trust played into my anxiety about getting pregnant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I had my first appointment last week, and I really like her.  She went through fertility treatments herself to have her, now teenage, child.  I really feel like she understands what we are going through.  She is much more nurturing than my last doctor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;She is also more thorough.  I appreciate the thoroughness because it leaves little room for worry, and I certainly do not need little unknowns.  It is those exact unknowns that cause me so much heartache.  For example:  Did I ovulate?  I never had a + OPK, but I got my period, so I must've ovulated right?  Are my tubes blocked?  Do I have a good ovarian reserve?  What if my hot flashes are caused by early menopause and not a side effect of the medications?  What if I have a hostile cervix?  Why is it taking so long?  My mind is a wonderland of worry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am happy to say that all of these questions (and more) will be answered by next week.  ANSWERED.  One way or the other, I will have an answer and will deal with whatever those answers are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tomorrow is my personal D-Day.  I've got a HSG scheduled.  I've had this long-standing fear since the ectopic that my tubes are blocked.  I secretly believe that this is what caused the ectopic and is also the reason that we have not gotten pregnant since then.  It seems like every other person on the message board who miscarried in September is already pregnant (or has lost again :( ) since then.  What about me you ask?  I'm trucking along.  Just like always.  Doing fertility treatments and still not pregnant.  I'm hoping we will have some answers this month.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;D-day countdown:  20 hours.  YIKES!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-2724270017470917675?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2724270017470917675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=2724270017470917675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/2724270017470917675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/2724270017470917675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/tomorrow-is-d-day.html' title='Tomorrow is D-day'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-4513357694237376592</id><published>2009-02-17T18:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T18:28:36.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why does this have to suck so bad?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I hate ttc.  I hate every single little thing about it.  I hate the doctor's visits.  I hate the waiting and praying for my body to do something that every other woman's body does on it's own.  I hate how the medications make me feel.  I hate that it makes sex routine and ruins something really special.  I hate the pressure.  I hate the waiting.  Most of all I hate the lack of control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I have planned my whole life.  I have had a plan, and I have worked really hard to meet my goals.  Really hard.  So far, I've met them all.  Except this one.  This one baffles me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I have lived a life of delayed gratification.  Delayed gratification with my relationship because W and I met when we were 16, but our parents kept us apart like some awful repeat of "Romeo and Juliet."  Delayed gratification with school because.....well, it's pretty obvious....med school sucks.  Residency is really long, but it doesn't suck as bad.  Delayed gratification with financial planning in my life because of choices related to graduate school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Ironically, I thought ttc would be the one thing where I would not have to have delayed gratification.  Turns out that is not true.  In a way, this is so much worse than delayed gratification because of the ectopic.  That was the awful nail in the coffin.  I feel so hopeless and empty ttc since then.  I ttc again for what?  For the possibility of losing another child?  For the possibility of 9 months of anxiety and worry?  For the possibility of the 100 million things that can go wrong?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;All of these thoughts lead me back to my ultimate question:  Where is my happy?  Where?  Not here.  Not now anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-4513357694237376592?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4513357694237376592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=4513357694237376592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4513357694237376592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4513357694237376592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-does-this-have-to-suck-so-bad.html' title='Why does this have to suck so bad?'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-7393831052314904139</id><published>2009-02-14T16:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T16:19:42.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Work?  Wouldn't it be nice to just quit?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I work four jobs.  It sounds crazy, but it is unfortunately true.  I have a "real job" that I work 40 hours per week.  Then I have three side jobs that I work after-hours and/or on the weekends.  I have been working myself in the ground.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Last week, I quit one of those side jobs.  Not because I don't need the money, but because I wanted to.....for my own sanity.  I've been thinking about it and daydreaming over it for months now, but I couldn't make myself bite the bullet!  I kept thinking that I would quit when we got pregnant....but God only knows when that will happen.  I decided to quit for myself...not because I have to quit for a child.  It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;In June, I will quit another one of those side jobs.  I'm debating on picking up an extra one because I've had several offers, but I am tired.  I finish residency in June, and I have decided to do a 1-year fellowship.  This means that all of my friends are done with moonlighting and are out making a "real salary."  I will be stuck behind for another year making a pitiance.......hence the reason I moonlight.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I will definitely keep one of the side jobs.  I like the job I work 1-2 weekends/month.  It pays well.  It's out of town, but not too far away.  The nurses there are AWESOME and everyone is really friendly.  All in all, I like it here.  Don't get me wrong, I am exhausted when I get home on Sunday evening.  There is nothing like being on call for 72 hours straight, only sleeping 4 hrs/night, and then seeing 30 pts/day that will do that to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I was thinking I might even keep this job after a baby arrives (if a baby ever arrives--I'm starting to get bummed again and wondering if I will ever get pregnant).  Just for a year--then I'm quitting it too and getting my "real job" with a "real salary!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-7393831052314904139?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7393831052314904139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=7393831052314904139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7393831052314904139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7393831052314904139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/work-wouldnt-it-be-nice-to-just-quit.html' title='Work?  Wouldn&apos;t it be nice to just quit?'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-5747486937960394731</id><published>2009-02-11T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T13:44:05.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SZNGZl8oF5I/AAAAAAAAADA/3w09w5qWPNE/s1600-h/img_6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SZNGZl8oF5I/AAAAAAAAADA/3w09w5qWPNE/s320/img_6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301658591842277266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Image from Sword in the Stone by Disney)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I hate hate hate hate washing clothes.  I mean I really hate it!  It's probably the reason that I let that particular part of the housework build up until I can no longer avoid it!  It has gotten so bad that my mother (who retired this year) has offered to come to my home when I am at work one day and wash all of the clothes.  She thinks this will "catch me up."  She, of course, keeps reminding me that I am going to have to wash clothes on a daily basis once a baby gets here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I, logically, know that is true.  For some reason, walking into my laundry room is just too overwhelming.  It all started at our last home where the washer/dryer was located down in the basement and I was afraid to go down there b/c there were lots of spiders.  When we moved here, we just bagged all the dirty clothes and moved them here.  Needless to say, I never caught up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I've been working on it this week, and W worked on it when I was out of town a few weeks ago.  We have certainly made strides.  The problem with laundry is that you always end up making more.  It's hard to feel accomplished and "done" with something when you look down at the shirt you are wearing and think "damn...another thing to wash."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I've had this thought that I would LOVE to be Merlin from the Sword in the Stone.  You know how he could magically make the dishes wash themselves?  How awesome would it be if&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Why can't we all just walk around naked all the time?  Then--no clothes to wash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Ooohhh--speaking of which--W's Valentine's Day present arrived today.  I think he's going to be really happy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SZNFOzyd1VI/AAAAAAAAAC4/czhkVs8x5Kc/s1600-h/heart_clipart_love.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SZNFOzyd1VI/AAAAAAAAAC4/czhkVs8x5Kc/s320/heart_clipart_love.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301657307067569490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/Users/Owner/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-5747486937960394731?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5747486937960394731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=5747486937960394731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/5747486937960394731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/5747486937960394731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/image-from-sword-in-stone-by-disney-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SZNGZl8oF5I/AAAAAAAAADA/3w09w5qWPNE/s72-c/img_6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-3389023609666468250</id><published>2009-02-06T17:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T19:34:25.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Calmer, Party of One?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I feel like this is a totally different world for me these days.  I have a different outlook on life, on family, on...making babies.  I think my relationship with W is better than ever before.  We've made love every single night this week and just laid there talking to each other for hours afterwards.  I love him so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I also don't spend as much time thinking about our loss or worrying about our future.  Whatever is meant to happen, will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't think words can express how thankful I am for these changes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-3389023609666468250?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3389023609666468250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=3389023609666468250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/3389023609666468250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/3389023609666468250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/calmer-party-of-one.html' title='Calmer, Party of One?'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-5480056222920859310</id><published>2009-01-31T16:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T17:05:26.647-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of Town Work Weekends--Good for the soul?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm pretty sure the answer is no.  I thought I was doing so well lately with anxiety and worry over the timing of pregnancy, but when I am left to my own devices I start to worry again.  I tried desperately to schedule a massage, mani/pedi, facial, etc....ANYTHING to take my mind off of the stress of work, missing my hubby, and wanting to make us a family.  It turns out every single spa in the city was booked.  Literally every one.  I know because I called every single one of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I can't wait to get back home to some normalcy and not live out of this hotel room any longer (no matter how nice it may be).  I miss my DH.  I really really miss him.  I want to try to guilt him into coming to see me, but I don't think that's right.  I know he has a lot of work to do on his PhD, but I miss him.  I took an extra day of work this weekend b/c the other doctor's father died and he needed someone to cover another day.  It turns out that it's been a rather rough few days at work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I can't wait to see DH tomorrow.  There's a part of me that really wants him to drive up here on the weekends and surprise me in some grand romantic gesture.  Then there is the other part of me that knows that I am busy at work and that it wouldn't be fulfilling for either of us if that happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I need to stay home.  Man I wish I could quit all of these weekend jobs.  I swear I would be a calmer, happier person.  Of course, then I would probably have to take up a hobby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-5480056222920859310?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5480056222920859310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=5480056222920859310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/5480056222920859310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/5480056222920859310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/out-of-town-work-weekends-good-for-soul.html' title='Out of Town Work Weekends--Good for the soul?'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-1249017925048188618</id><published>2009-01-29T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T18:19:52.799-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What makes a man</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I was reading another blog today when I came across this post with the query:  "What makes a man?"  It is an interesting question to me.  I think people would give different answers, and I know I will give you a different answer today than I would have 3 years ago, 6 years ago, etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I think of the men in my life who I think are men.  My father, of course.  But, perhaps surprisingly and even more so than my father, my husband.  I say surprisingly because I think it would surprise him to know that I think of him as more than a man than my own father.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;My husband has always been there for me.  He is faithful and kind.  He is loving.  He is a teeny-tiny bit of a nerd (ok, that's not really true--he's a really big nerd but I love him for it).  He is good to me and our four animals.  He is good to other people who are hurting.  He knows how to calm me and support me.  He also knows how to make me more angry than any other person on this earth, but he doesn't do it intentionally so I don't hold it against him (for too long).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;You know what makes him even more of a man to me?  The way he has supported me throughout this process.  The way he tells me that it doesn't matter if we aren't able to have kids because then we'll have more time together.  The way he tells me that it's better to be in our situation and be trying to have a child in a happy marriage.  The little ways that he lets me know it's not about having a child--it's about us.  I know that, deep down in my heart, but I forget it sometimes through this God-forsaken process of trying to conceive with a fertility specialist.  I say God-forsaken because it feels that way some days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;And my husband knows that.  He knows how I question God and can't find answers.  He may not understand my method of questioning, but he is nonetheless supportive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;He is a man because he isn't afraid to cook for me, show up at my big presentations at work, cry during a sad movie with me (Bucket List anyone?).  He's a man because snugging (that word is trademarked just for us;) ) on the sofa comforts both of us.  I love how he rests his cheek on my head, sniffs in my hair, lightly kisses the top of my head, and pulls me in closer with his arms wrapped around my chest.  It's so intimate, but not in a way that many would imagine to be intimate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;It's times like these that I realize and remember that this process is about us.  I created this blog as a way to talk about us and our life, but I'm afraid that's it's been completely over-run by this awful process and the bad things that have happened this year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We've made a pact in real-life to get back to us.  To spend more time snugging on the sofa.  To snug in bed before going to sleep.  To spend time talking and holding each other.  We've done just that, and I love it.  I think it's time to re-center my blog as well.  Hopefully if I can recenter the blog on us, it won't hurt so bad to think about coming here to write about life.  Because life isn't just trying to conceive, no matter that it does feel that way sometimes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;This feels more uplifting.  Actually, life feels a lot more uplifting lately.  It's going to be okay--whatever the outcome.  It's going to work out--because we'll make it work--because we, us--that's what is important.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-1249017925048188618?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1249017925048188618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=1249017925048188618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1249017925048188618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1249017925048188618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-makes-man.html' title='What makes a man'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-1828694956850577184</id><published>2009-01-22T15:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T15:59:59.114-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm really sad today</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I thought I was handling this month well with regards to infertility, but I am definitely not.  I have cried my eyes out today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;It all started out this morning.  I had a voicemail on my cellphone from an old friend who had a miscarriage last year and knew about our loss, so she was calling to check on me.  She said I'd really been "on her heart" lately.  She left numbers, but I haven't called her back.  I just don't feel like talking right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Then I went to my twice-weekly therapy appointment.  My therapist has been trying to get me to talk about my feelings about infertility for a few weeks now, but it's been hard for me to open up.  I tend to lock my feelings away somewhere and not go back to look at them.  Truthfully, it just hurts too bad to look at them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;So, we were talking about my feelings, and he thought that I needed a little self-disclosure on his part for me to be able to talk about this.  He and his wife tried for &gt;1 year to have their second child, and they experienced all the familiar feelings and fears that I have.  That started the river--I just started crying, well sobbing, and it continued for the whole hour.  I can't believe the things that I said.  Sometimes it is surprising to me the things that I think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I told him that the process is more hurtful than I ever imagined it would be.  I feel exhausted and overwhelmed.  I feel "over it"--mostly because I just don't know how much more hurt I can take.  I wonder when we need to seriously look at adoption, but then there is another part of me that doesn't think I'm ready to go that route yet.....not yet.  Ultimately, I told him that I don't see a happy outcome.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Where's my happy?  Not when I get pregnant because then I'll just worry about if it's a normal pregnancy.  Certainly not now.  When the baby gets here?  If a baby ever gets here?  I don't know--I've never experienced that.  Truthfully, maybe I never will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I talked to my DH this afternoon.  He thinks my mood swings are a good predictor that I'm pregnant.  I think I'm just sad and PMSing.  I took a test this afternoon.  Negative.  I knew it would be--don't know what I was thinking wasting money on the test.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I've certainly had a good cry today.  Literally all day.  I have cried out to God.  How much more pain are we supposed to endure?  When is it enough?  When will  He say that it's more than you can handle?  I feel really darn close right now.  I don't feel Him.  I don't feel his presence.  I don't understand why I would have this desire if He's not going to follow-up on it.  Did he put me on my friend's heart in order that she could provide comfort to me?  I don't want to talk to her.....I think maybe I don't want to be comforted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-1828694956850577184?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1828694956850577184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=1828694956850577184' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1828694956850577184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1828694956850577184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-really-sad-today.html' title='I&apos;m really sad today'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-1532985042000589089</id><published>2009-01-16T18:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T18:51:01.191-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Man I hate making mistakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I should be banned from the computer--seriously.  My work email has recently been changed, and it confuses me.  Two days ago, I received a group email from one person asking for assistance.  I responded to everyone accidentally (meant it to just go to the sender--but you know).  Then, everyone got "worked up" and excited over the possibility of something I said--it was just a possibility people.  It's not real....yet.  People just get so excited. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;So, here everyone is jumping to conclusions and emails are apparently flying around like mad.....but guess what?  The new work email?  It blocks ALL of them and sends them to my spam filter.  I don't even see them.  I can't even address all this excitement and tell everyone to calm down.  It wasn't until someone finally cc'd me late today that I realized what happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I wish I'd never said anything.  I have no clue what made me respond.  Stupid, Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.  Stay away from group emails!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-1532985042000589089?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1532985042000589089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=1532985042000589089' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1532985042000589089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1532985042000589089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/man-i-hate-making-mistakes.html' title='Man I hate making mistakes'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-9155442219265058572</id><published>2009-01-15T16:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T17:04:33.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That time of the month...Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/w0ffwDYo00Q&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/w0ffwDYo00Q&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;This is Vulcan every single morning.  Stupid cat.  He has an automatic feeder--what more does he want?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Well, I didn't get pregnant last month.  I also didn't post because the holidays really really sucked for me.  It was hard to face the family and not be pregnant.  I wanted so bad to be pregnant and to know that next Christmas we will have a baby at home with us.  I didn't have that knowledge.  Instead of it being one of the best Christmases to date, it has the distinction of being the worst (by far).  But....it's over now.  I survived.  I didn't die from grief like I thought I would.  I'm thinking that makes me a stronger person now--well, I'm hoping that it makes me a stronger person anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm not focusing on the 2WW this month, although I am totally back in it.  I refuse to enter my FPS (fake pregnancy symptoms) into Fertility Friend this month.  Not going to do it.  Instead, I have a Grand Rounds presentation due January 27th, and I am FREAKING OUT over it.  I'm the first of my classmates to do it, and I don't want to bomb.  The idea of speaking for an hour about a topic I am somewhat knowledgeable about to a whole bunch of people who are more knowledgeable than me makes me want to puke.  I hope I don't do that in front of everyone!  It might be funny, if it doesn't happen to me!;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Funny thing is that AF is due 3 days before my GR presentation.  I can't decide if I want to be pregnant this month b/c of all the stress.  Then I tell myself--you're crazy--of course you want to be pregnant.  I do, but I'm scared.  Really scared.  That crazy kind of scared where you can't imagine anything good ever happening to you again.  Truthfully, I don't know how much more bad I can take.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I have started praying nightly.  I even started praying for myself.....which is something I could not bring myself to do after the ectopic.  I keep telling myself that God would not give me the desire to be a mom if he didn't plan on following through, right?  I mean, after all, I went YEARS not wanting to be a mom.  I didn't want kids.  I liked my life.  Then, all of a sudden out of nowhere, I was blindsided by the desire to be a mom and have kids and mess up my life with all the uncertainties that children can bring.  I certainly can't imagine that I placed that desire within myself.  I really do think it came from God, and so does W.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-9155442219265058572?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9155442219265058572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=9155442219265058572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/9155442219265058572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/9155442219265058572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/that-time-of-monthagain.html' title='That time of the month...Again'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-8995919638941457952</id><published>2008-12-15T16:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T16:33:58.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Hazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/2008/12/11/funny-pictures-week-wen-u-sez-truss-meh-i-endid-up-gettin-a-baff/"&gt;&lt;img class="mine_2696485" title="funny-pictures-your-cat-does-not-trust-you" src="http://icanhascheezburger.wordpress.com/files/2008/11/funny-pictures-your-cat-does-not-trust-you.jpg" alt="funny pictures of cats with captions" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;more &lt;a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com"&gt;animals&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am sitting next to my lazy black cat who is snoring away on the sofa--It's a hard hard life I suppose.  Oh, wait--his highness decided to wake up for a moment and snuggle in closer--must be nice stealing other people's bodily warmth!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Last night, we had our bffs over to our house for dinner.  Prior to dinner, W decided that all the animals needed a bath--and I do mean all of them.  He somehow cornered the cat in the bathroom and managed to bathe the cat without getting scratched too bad or losing his man-parts!  Vulcan (better known as butt-butts around here) was howling and hissing like he was fighting a major army in the enclosed shower.  When W finally let him out, I dried him off and he left the bathroom with every intention of having nothing else to do with me for the rest of the day.  And--he stuck to it.  When our friends arrived, he sat next to them on the sofa and shot us an "eat shit" look for the rest of the night.  He promptly forgot all about it last night when he got cold--still wet butt-butts needed the dreaded human's warmth!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The dogs were another story.  They always fight us at first--but ultimately they go to the shower with a sense of learned helplessness--I can't get away even though I want to so I am not going to fight it anymore--spray me with water.  The pitiful thing is that they both really hate water but they love each other.  In order to soothe each other, they leaned on each other throughout the shower.  This would have been a fine tactic except everytime W got one of them clean they would lean on the other (soapier) one and pass soap back and forth.  It took him 20 minutes to get all the soap off both of them--pitiful bubbies!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Our whole house now smells like pert plus--W's favorite animal washing shampoo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;All in all, it was a good distraction from the 2WW.  I'm trying to decide when to test b/c somehow Xmas day just doesn't seem like a good idea!  Hopefully more distractions to come!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-8995919638941457952?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8995919638941457952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=8995919638941457952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/8995919638941457952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/8995919638941457952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/lazy-hazy.html' title='Lazy Hazy'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-8858985901097880632</id><published>2008-12-04T13:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T13:23:36.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little something to cheer me up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SThKDQhijTI/AAAAAAAAACM/qbQ06e8a724/s1600-h/Infertility.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 260px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SThKDQhijTI/AAAAAAAAACM/qbQ06e8a724/s320/Infertility.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276048383300242738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SThJ6hRPB0I/AAAAAAAAACE/HVleGAqQXZQ/s1600-h/Fertility.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 188px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SThJ6hRPB0I/AAAAAAAAACE/HVleGAqQXZQ/s320/Fertility.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276048233176434498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SThJxRuSy0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/vRAs5msw9YM/s1600-h/Ectopic+Pregnancy.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SThJxRuSy0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/vRAs5msw9YM/s320/Ectopic+Pregnancy.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276048074384526146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I have been desperately working on my grand rounds presentation for January, and I stumbled across these funny infertility cartoons while looking for psychiatry-appropriate cartoons!  Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-8858985901097880632?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8858985901097880632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=8858985901097880632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/8858985901097880632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/8858985901097880632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/little-something-to-cheer-me-up.html' title='A little something to cheer me up'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SThKDQhijTI/AAAAAAAAACM/qbQ06e8a724/s72-c/Infertility.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-4512965902876000597</id><published>2008-12-03T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:56:39.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A lot has changed</title><content type='html'>I haven't felt like posting here in a very long while.  I've had some very bad, dark days since my last post on September 5th.  It turns out that the slow-rising betas were a sign of ectopic pregnancy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went in for our first ultrasound on September 12th, and we were really hoping to see fish.  Wow--I haven't thought of the word fish in several months.  Anyway, they saw nothing on the ultrasound.  It quickly went from being the best day of my life to the worst.  Fast.  The doctor wanted to wait a week hoping that we were just earlier than we thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On September 14th, I awoke to excrutiating pain and W rushed me to the ER.  At the ER, an ultrasound was repeated and I was diagnosed with ectopic pregnancy.  They gave me a shot of methotrexate and told me to follow-up with the RE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On September 16th, we met with Dr. Blackwell again to discuss what happened.  He assured us the only risk factor we have for ectopic pregnancy was the fertility treatments.  However, my risk for ectopic is increased for subsequent pregnancies.  He also told us it would be roughly 4 weeks before we could start ttc again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a hell of a lot longer than four weeks.  Week after week I'd go back for a beta check and it was not falling quickly enough.  Finally, 10 weeks later, it was 7.  5 days later, it was less than five (considered negative).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been really angry, sad, envious, irritable, etc.  It's absolutely amazing how many emotions you can have at once.  It's also amazing the way that this has shaped who I now am and my life.  It has shaped my religious beliefs in ways that I do not completely understand yet.  I want to believe that God has good things in store for me, but I don't think that is true.  I don't think he gives a F*** anymore.  He certainly wasn't there for me during the miscarriage.  He wasn't there during the horrible emotional pain afterwards.  I can barely bring myself to pray anymore.  The few times I have, it has not gone well.  I want to have a child--but I don't think I will be able to thank God for that child.  In order to thank Him, I will have to thank Him for my loss--and I am just not ready to do that yet.....if ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There have been some good things to happen.  I feel much more empathetic toward others.  I'm very aware of how wrong it could go, and I'm much more sensitive about the things I might say to people that could accidentally hurt them.  I do think I will be a thoughtful pregnant lady, if I ever get that chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people want to be pregnant.  They want to tell others that they are and be the center of attention.  I just want a child.  I want to have that child at home and love it and provide for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand why this happened.  Today is a sad day for me.  I've been feeling less sad for 1-2 weeks now, but today has been rough.  I've finally started back ttc, and I'm getting closer to the time when I'm supposed to ovulate.  All of these feelings and the loss come rushing back to me--and it hurts so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand.  I hope that, one day, it will work out for us.  I want nothing more than to have a child of our own and make our marriage into a family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-4512965902876000597?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4512965902876000597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=4512965902876000597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4512965902876000597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4512965902876000597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/lot-has-changed.html' title='A lot has changed'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-7585541337021385466</id><published>2008-09-05T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:31:44.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pregnancy sex is.....well, in two words, FREAKING AWESOME</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://pregnancy.baby-gaga.com/cartoons/cartoon39"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i.baby-gaga.com/crtn/c39.png" alt="pregnancy cartoon" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Since our episode of spotting after sex last weekend, we've been a little hesitant to really go at each other.  We've gotten over it.  I just want to dedicate this post to pregnancy sex and how freaking awesome it is.  I can feel every move W makes and I feel so much closer to him.  Everything feels so much stronger and amazing!  Man do I love my hubby (and his incredibly sexy body;) )!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-7585541337021385466?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7585541337021385466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=7585541337021385466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7585541337021385466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/7585541337021385466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/pregnancy-sex-iswell-in-two-words.html' title='Pregnancy sex is.....well, in two words, FREAKING AWESOME'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-6661446005368544193</id><published>2008-09-04T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:32:04.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sea Otter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Well--Fish officially looks like a sea otter today.  Fish has limb buds and is shaped a little more like a human.  I'm getting really excited about meeting fish.  We have our first ultrasound next Friday at 8am and we are hoping and praying to see a heartbeat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I can't wait for W to be a daddy--he'll be such a good one.  I know he'll love fish and play with him.  He can be so tender sometimes and I know fish will love him for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I've been feeling so close to W lately.  I'm not sure how he feels, though, b/c I secretly think this pregnancy has freaked him out.  Some days I think I'm taking it better than him.  He has all these worries about his job and finishing grad school and being healthy--all typical father-to-be concerns.  I know he'll totally bond with fish when he sees fish.:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I'm going to go spend some time with W.  I love just being near him and loving on him.  For some reason, he often thinks I'm not listening even when I am, but nothing I can say will change his mind.  I'm chalking it all up to pregnancy nerves, though.  He's definitely been on-edge lately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;We had a really good time last night.....after an argument that was probably long overdue.  I wish we had more time to just spend together b/c he's so wonderful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Last but not least my beta came back today at 1731.  We're now in the good ultrasound range.  I can't wait!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-6661446005368544193?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6661446005368544193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=6661446005368544193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6661446005368544193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6661446005368544193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/sea-otter.html' title='Sea Otter'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-5115461024296958448</id><published>2008-09-01T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:32:17.771-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;It has been one of those days.  Despite the fact that I slept well last night, I have been extremely exhausted.  I mean lay down take a nap anywhere kind of exhausted.  W has been thoughtful, but I don't think he likes it too much when I sleep so much.  I think it must be all this pregnancy stuff, however, because I could immediately take a nap after waking up from a prior nap.  Sleepy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Oh--the nausea.  The nausea.  It's killer sometimes.  It doesn't matter how much I eat, it's still there.  Maybe I should just stop eating--except that got me to some bad indigestion the other day and gas pain--and man I'd rather not repeat that.  So--eating it is.  I was up 5 lbs today.  No wonder my pants don't fit well anymore.  That is unacceptable.  5 lbs and I'm only 5.5 weeks pregnant--No sir--I won't be that girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;It's crackers and fruit for me from now on.  No more junk.  I mean it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Now to take my nauseated self and go to bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-5115461024296958448?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5115461024296958448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=5115461024296958448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/5115461024296958448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/5115461024296958448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/09/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of those days'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-8718012058403175255</id><published>2008-08-31T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:32:33.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One of my favorite skits</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BYLMTvxOaeE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BYLMTvxOaeE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Let me say, first and most importantly, that I don't condone treating patients like this.  Therapy is helpful and beneficial, when done correctly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Secondly, let me say that this skit is freaking hilarious!  It's one of my favorites of all time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Something non-pregnancy related for once!:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-8718012058403175255?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8718012058403175255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=8718012058403175255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/8718012058403175255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/8718012058403175255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-of-my-favorite-skits.html' title='One of my favorite skits'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-109658442147006947</id><published>2008-08-30T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:32:51.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The gas pain</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oca8Du7natQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oca8Du7natQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Wow!  No one told me about gas pain.  I mean....wow.  Really.  I had heard women get constipated but this is ridiculous!  I've been super-extraordinarily constipated all day.  What's worse--I've really needed to fart--and I just can't.  I never knew it could hurt so bad.  Now I understand why geri patients always fight the staff when the get constipated--they're just so darn uncomfortable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Warren and I have nicknamed the baby "fish" from the widget that shows it's week 5 status--it's a little unsettling to look at!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I'm trying to convince W to talk to my tummy so that fish can get to know him and love him like I do.  I know he doesn't get to carry it for nine months, but I think it's still sweet for fish to get to know his voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;He's been very good about rubbing my tummy when it's upset--and it helps so much!  He doesn't like when I rub it--because he says I do it too hard and I'm hurting fish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Fish is making mommy tired.  I'm off to bed.  Maybe I can convince W to come with me!;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-109658442147006947?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/109658442147006947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=109658442147006947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/109658442147006947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/109658442147006947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/gas-pain.html' title='The gas pain'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-4398421603416131379</id><published>2008-08-29T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:33:05.652-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a rough week, but it's all better now!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://pregnancy.baby-gaga.com/cartoons/cartoon2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i.baby-gaga.com/crtn/c2.png" alt="pregnancy cartoon" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;t's been a tough week, emotionally.  It all started off with the repeat beta on Monday morning.  When I arrived at the RE's office, they had a student in the lab.  She acted confused and called for the head lab person, who never came, so she drew my blood anyway.  I didn't think anything of it, at the time.  That afternoon, Priscilla called to tell me that my beta was only 67 and it was supposed to be 120.  She did say they had problems with the lab and she wasn't sure what to do with the lab, but it was lower than normal.  Needless to say, I cried my eyes out all night on Monday and then again on Tuesday morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;On Tuesday, I went to therapy (hooray for that) and spent time praying, and I felt much more calm by Tuesday evening.  It helped that the nausea returned and I just knew that baby was fine.  Same for Wednesday--but I had a ton of nausea that night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Fast forward to Thursday, or beta draw #3.  I was super-anxious by the time I got to the office--b/c I had done enough internet research to know that slow-rising betas typically don't mean good things.  I kept clinging to the fact that I wasn't cramping or spotting and I was having a TON of symtpoms--so I really believed baby was fine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Well--the same student was in the lab....but this time she was much more careful and talked to herself throughout the blood draw--which I thought was weird.  However, that afternoon the nurse called me to tell me that my levels were 272--or right where they should be!  She said that she really thinks Monday's lab was a lab error, especially in light of the student and the more recent lab!  Yeah!  I am so excited.  I can finally have a little peace about this pregnancy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I pep-talk baby all the time.  I never thought I'd be so excited about nausea, dry heaves, sore nipples, constipation/diarrhea, and frequent urination--but hey--I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I wonder when most women notice a difference in clothing.....  I wore a pair of my fave blue jeans today, and I had to unbutton them by lunchtime b/c they were killing me!  Now--I haven't gained any weight--maybe I am re-proportioning?  Weird--I thought it was too early for that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-4398421603416131379?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4398421603416131379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=4398421603416131379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4398421603416131379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/4398421603416131379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-been-rough-week-but-its-all-better.html' title='It&apos;s been a rough week, but it&apos;s all better now!'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-6915488904263134188</id><published>2008-08-23T19:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:33:20.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>POAS addict</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SLDGBuJ2h4I/AAAAAAAAABU/GBOvJaJtcHw/s1600-h/SC+progression+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SLDGBuJ2h4I/AAAAAAAAABU/GBOvJaJtcHw/s320/SC+progression+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237904099503409026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;So, I've been POAS like an addict lately.  Since it's the weekend, I couldnt' go in today to have my beta checked.  It looks like my line is much much darker, though, so I'm hoping that's a really really good sign.  I'll be POAS tomorrow morning again....:).  The picture is very nice, huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;Off to bed now as my tummy is horribly upset.  Must sleep.  I worked really really hard today, and I didn't get my nap.  I will be sleeping late in the morning!:)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-6915488904263134188?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6915488904263134188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=6915488904263134188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6915488904263134188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6915488904263134188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/poas-addict.html' title='POAS addict'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SLDGBuJ2h4I/AAAAAAAAABU/GBOvJaJtcHw/s72-c/SC+progression+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-6911566372348294039</id><published>2008-08-22T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:33:33.641-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's kicking in</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SK9zIgATiVI/AAAAAAAAABM/RdXvxT_HePo/s1600-h/Body+Pillow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SK9zIgATiVI/AAAAAAAAABM/RdXvxT_HePo/s320/Body+Pillow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237531481522538834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;So, for all the worrying I did about betas yesterday (and today really), I have been experiencing a lot of pregnancy symptoms.  I have that constant queasiness, and my hips are KILLING me--especially when I went out to dinner and shopping with friends tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;No one ever told me how bad your hips will hurt--even at this stage in the game.  I know it can't be weight because I've lost 13 lbs recently.  I broke down and bought a pregnancy pillow.  I know I'm only 4 weeks in and it is a little ridiculous, but my hips can't take it.  Heck, I can't take the insomnia much longer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I did end up telling my bff last night, and I told our other bff today (because she guessed and I didn't want to lie).  It's really weird.  Sometimes I feel really bloated and pregnant, but other times I'll get wrapped up with work and totally forget about it.  I love it when I come to the realization--"Hey, I'm pregnant.  Yeah!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Another strange thing about pregnancy--bowel movements.  How is it that you can be totally constipated for hours, then have an episode of diarrhea, then go right back to being constipated--I don't get it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I'm so excited and full of plans for this child.  I hope I'm not getting ahead of myself, but I really want to think it's going to happen for us this time.  I know my hubby will be such a good daddy, and I can't wait to make him one.  It makes me tear up just to think about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;In the meantime, I will keep POAS to make sure it's getting darker and darker--and so far, so good.:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-6911566372348294039?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6911566372348294039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=6911566372348294039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6911566372348294039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/6911566372348294039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-kicking-in.html' title='It&apos;s kicking in'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SK9zIgATiVI/AAAAAAAAABM/RdXvxT_HePo/s72-c/Body+Pillow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-1039539292488171677</id><published>2008-08-21T19:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:33:47.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First beta</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;So I dropped W off at work today and went immediately to the RE's office.  It was 7:45 but I waited outside until they opened!  Yes, I really did....and without an appointment too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;They were surprised to see me, but they decided to go ahead and check a beta.  I anxiously awaited the results all day long.  Priscilla (the RN at the RE's office) paged me at 1pm.  When I called her back, she said "I just wanted to let you know it's real!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;She told me that we're still very early.  I have to go in on Monday to make sure my betas are increasing like they should.  Hoping and praying it does.....I want this child so bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;We decided to go ahead and tell our parents.  We thought it would be better to have support if (God forbid) we miscarry or have complications from the pregnancy.  They were really excited and making big plans for the little one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;In other news, W and I have always had names picked out that we liked.  Temporarily (or forever according to the hubby) we have decided on these:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Girl:  Emma Leigh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Boy:  Warren Thomas (named after the hubs of course).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Today has been an OK day.  I have constant low-level nausea, but I feel fine if I nurse a bottle of Sprite all day long.  I'm perfectly ok with all these pregnancy symptoms--I keep telling myself they mean good things for the pregnancy.  Stick baby, stick--we want you to come home with us in 8 months.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-1039539292488171677?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1039539292488171677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=1039539292488171677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1039539292488171677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1039539292488171677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/first-beta.html' title='First beta'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-9057386567467145853</id><published>2008-08-20T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:34:03.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my goodness, I can't believe it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SKzRAT-VZ_I/AAAAAAAAABE/YtH2C8SVvfI/s1600-h/%2BHPT.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SKzRAT-VZ_I/AAAAAAAAABE/YtH2C8SVvfI/s400/%2BHPT.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236790270016972786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;So--I've been really down this month--I just knew it wasn't it.  I was so wrong.  Looking back, I was ignoring a lot of symptoms.  When I woke up this weekend, I saw a ton of big blue veins on my breasts, but I kept saying to myself "They aren't real."  I had a HUGE episode of nausea yesterday morning and generally just felt awful, but I told myself it was that leftover tuna sandwich I had for breakfast.  I haven't been sleeping well.  I've been having hip pain.  My boobs feel weird.  Why did I ignore all of this, you ask?  Because I thought I had all this last month too and it ended up being a BFN.  I was bound and determined to not get my hopes up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;But my DH knew.  He just knew.  He kept asking me when I was going to test, and I kept postponing it.  For kicks and giggles this afternoon, I decided to go through with it.  Here it is.  I can't believe it.  It's my first ever BFP.  It's really light, and the camera has poor quality--but I promise you guys it's there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Fingers crossed the baby sticks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-9057386567467145853?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9057386567467145853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=9057386567467145853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/9057386567467145853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/9057386567467145853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-my-goodness-i-cant-believe-it.html' title='Oh my goodness, I can&apos;t believe it!'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_b_hOSxKbV7M/SKzRAT-VZ_I/AAAAAAAAABE/YtH2C8SVvfI/s72-c/%2BHPT.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-1169121237194073059</id><published>2008-08-07T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:34:17.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The dreaded 2WW</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Well here I am....back in the dreaded 2WW.  I've had a totally different mindset this time around.  Although I do desperately want to have a child, I don't feel like it's going to happen this month.  I had my hopes up so high last month and was devastated.  Let's face it, there are women who have tried much harder and much longer than I ever have.  It's possible it will take us just as long.  And...did I really expect to hit it out of the ballpark on the first go around?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I think maybe the perfectionist in me did.  So far, there have been very few things that I haven't been able to accomplish with some hard work and elbow grease.  This just isn't going to be one of those things--and it drives me crazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I haven't given up all hope, but my hope doesn't hang on this month.  I still have fantasies about being a mom.  I still dream about having a little one at home that we can care for.  I know it will change our lives--but in a good way.:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;In the meantime, I have been learning a lot about how much babies cost to have at home so that we can start preparing.  I've looked into disability insurance in case I have to go on bedrest.  I've researched the cost of injectables so that I can save money if we ever have to go that route.  Man, I hope not though because they cost more than my mortgage!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I know for a fact that I O'd today.  I had a lot of right sided cramping that led to a burning in my lower back.  We've tried to catch the eggie...but who knows?  I'm not going to test this month until AFTER I miss my period (if that happens).  There is no reason to waste a perfectly good HPT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;More later.  No obsessing this time around!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-1169121237194073059?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1169121237194073059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=1169121237194073059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1169121237194073059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1169121237194073059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/08/dreaded-2ww.html' title='The dreaded 2WW'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-8903059612235013856</id><published>2008-07-24T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:34:38.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I'm ready</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I haven't told anyone (except 1-2 close friends) that W and I are trying to have a baby.  I am mostly afraid of having to tell them about the infertility stuff and have to experience their pity.  I also fear their criticism.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I made the mistake of telling one friend, and she came back with a "Well if God wanted you to have a family, you would....I just don't believe in all those meds.  Life can't be about that.  My husband and I will be just fine if we don't have a family."  She was so hostile.  I just replied back that, while I respected her position, I don't agree.  Why would God allow people to have scientific skills and develop fertility treatments if they weren't meant to be used?  But, I think I might be a little liberal where some things are concerned (at least that's what W tells me).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I am becoming more comfortable with the idea of telling people.  W has been the most patient hubby ever.  He has really wanted to tell his family several times, but I have stopped him.  I didn't mean to squash his fun or excitement but those old concerns popped up.  I think I'm ready for him to tell them.  I'm ready for us both to be excited about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;If my worst fears come true and it doesn't happen for us, at least we will have tried.  At least we will have allowed ourselves to really open up and embrace the fantasy.  Only then can we truly mourn it if that becomes necessary.  It's so hard to have such a secret.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;So--W--I'm ready for you to tell whoever you want.  If you want to keep it secret, we'll do that.  I'm putting it in your hands now.  I'm really sorry it was ever in mine!:(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-8903059612235013856?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8903059612235013856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=8903059612235013856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/8903059612235013856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/8903059612235013856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-think-im-ready.html' title='I think I&apos;m ready'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-1927979364871689150</id><published>2008-07-23T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:34:53.179-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I will not.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;t's time to make a new resolution to myself.  I will NOT look at baby related things until I am pregnant.  This means no baby clothes, baby furniture, baby bedding, maternity clothes, etc.  None of it.  I have been looking and looking and it's making me want this even more.  I'm going to take the saying from kindergarten and run with it...."just say no."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;On the up side, I now know where I want to shop when I become pg.  I also decided how I want to tell W I am pregnant when it happens.  I'll have to keep it a little bit of a secret (for less than 24 hours), but it'll be worth the wait.....assuming I do become pregnant one day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I really miss W.  He's out of town right now at a conference.  Usually, I really enjoy having the house to myself for a day or two.  This time, I missed him the moment I came back home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I'm turning into a sap.  I think W would say this is good.  We used to be so close, then we became more emotionally separate as I worked more hours at the hospital and he was started the PhD.  It's really bothered me that we were so separate, but I wasn't sure what to do about it.  Plus, W would become really upset about it and get sort of mean.  I know now that it was his way of saying hey honey, I miss you and I miss talking to you.....but I'm a stubborn fool.  I knew deep-down that was what he was saying to me, but the words he used were so hurtful that I became too fearful to open up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Things have really turned around for us lately.  I am much less concerned about our future, whereas I used to really wonder.  I think that was part of my hesitancy to have children in the past.  I wanted to know that we were both in it for keeps before I helped bring a child into the world.  I just kept reminding myself that every marriage goes through hard times.  It's how you handle the hard times that defines who you are as a couple, not the good times.  Anyone can do good times.....but can they stay together and cling together throughout the bad?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I can't imagine having a child with anyone but W.  I think, if it's not meant to be for us as a couple, then it's not meant to be for me.  No donor stuff.  I'm not really keen on adoption.  I'd really be OK just spending the rest of my life with him.  It doesn't mean I wouldn't be sad, and it doesn't mean I wouldn't be a little bitter(ok, angry and depressed)....but I think we'd make it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;If you're reading this, I just want you to know how much I love you and miss you.  I'm really glad that you married me.  I'm glad that we decided to work through all our problems.  I'm really glad that I decided to listen to you about starting a family, even if there has been a lot of heartache along the way.  I'm not glad that you're at the conference or that I'm out of town for work this weekend......but, hey......you can't win them all!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I wish you were next to me tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-1927979364871689150?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1927979364871689150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=1927979364871689150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1927979364871689150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/1927979364871689150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-will-not.html' title='I will not.....'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430159886961677128.post-503338690051159838</id><published>2008-07-23T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T19:35:08.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well....Here Goes Nothing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;My first blog post....hmmm.  I have had so much on my mind lately.  W and I thought about having children 4-5 years ago, and I came off my bcp but it just never happened for us.....no matter how much we tried!;)  Over time, work got harder, and I "forgot" about trying.  We were still off bcp and not using protection, but we never ever got pregnant.....until my intern year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;During fourth year med school, I took time off at the end of the year to relax.  During that time I worked out with a personal trainer daily, hung out with my pregnant cousin a lot, and started having regular periods again (for the first time in 3 years).  Well--my intern year started and my period was late.  I was so busy that I didn't notice it...at first.  It did finally show, but it was much much much heavier than usual.  So heavy that I couldn't sleep and was passing large clots.  W finally convinced me to go to the doctor, and they told me I probably had an early miscarriage.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't relieved to have miscarried.  I tried to imagine having a newborn at home and taking in-hospital call every fourth night, but the prospect wasn't something I anticipated.  I was also more sad than I imagined and spent some time mourning what could have been.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Since then, I became bitter.....really, really bitter.  I told people I didn't want children.  I said I didn't want to be a mom.  All lies.  Of course I wanted those things, but I was so afraid of wanting something that clearly was not going to happen for us.  Then, this year, I couldn't take it anymore.  I talked to W (who has always wanted children--I don't know why he stayed with me during the times I was saying I didn't--maybe he didn't believe me), and we agreed to go back to the doctor and actively try to conceive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I've now lost 20-30 lbs.  I'm eating healthier.  I'm not drinking caffeine.  The doctor diagnosed me with PCOS and hypothyroidism.  I'm on daily meds that work great for me.  Last month, I had my first ever medicated cycle.  It didn't work out for us, but I did have some hope by the end of it (but not after crying and mourning).  I formed two large mature follicles, ovulated, and had a period on my own (without meds).  I'm trying to be positive, but I can't believe how much I want this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I want to be a mom.  I want to make W a father--I know he'd be a great one!  I want to bring a child into this world who will be loved unconditionally by their mother and father.  I want our child to have opportunities we never had.  I want to be a mother and provide for my child's needs.  I want W and I to expand our family.  I know we have the love to give.  I try to imagine everything that could go wrong, but I really think we'll be great at it.  W and I are both so tender-hearted, I can't imagine not providing for the child's needs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;The concerns I do have are mostly selfish in nature.  Will W and I have time for each other after having a child?  I firmly believe that the key to succesful parenting is an intimate, loving marital relationship.  I want to still have time to talk to W about my dreams, hopes for our future, plans.  I want to know his thoughts and plans.  I want to snuggle with him on the sofa.  I want to be the support that he needs.  And, perhaps most selfishly, I want to be intimate with him regularly.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I worry that having a child will mean that we won't have time for sexual intimacy.  W and I have been married for 6 years (together sexually for 7), and.....we are really good at it!  It is such a meaningful part of our relationship that I can't imagine it not being there......I don't want to imagine it.  I still find him as attractive as I did the very first time.  I still get flutters in my stomach whenever I think about being with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;This is just the start to our journey.  More later!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8430159886961677128-503338690051159838?l=thegidgetlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/feeds/503338690051159838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8430159886961677128&amp;postID=503338690051159838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/503338690051159838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8430159886961677128/posts/default/503338690051159838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegidgetlife.blogspot.com/2008/07/wellhere-goes-nothing.html' title='Well....Here Goes Nothing'/><author><name>Gidget</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03440660112441821669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
