Life's a Piece of Shit When you look at it. Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true. - The Life of Brian

Hi everybody.  Well if you are on my Facebook or WW community page you would have read that TBF & I's IVF was unsuccessful.  On Wednesday I wasn't feeling too crash hot and by Thursday morning (3am thank you very much) I was in quite a bit of pain.
I rang Dr Smith who confirmed my worst fears.  It was over.

It's funny.  Ok it's not FUNNY har har. But funny in that I was almost relieved. Not relieved that I didn't get pregnant but relieved that it was over.
The waiting.

Oh sure TBF & I were very sad and frankly more than a bit shitted off but at least we now know.
No kiddies for us.
I think that this time we really went into the whole IVF bizzo with a totally different point of view.
We were better prepared emotionally for both outcomes.
Yes, it does make us want to punch walls when we see the wanker mums at Kippa-Ring feeding their little tots flippin Mother softdrink while blowing their Horizon Ultra mild into their newborns face while screaming at their shoeless infant to 'hurry the fuck up ya little shit' BUT.....

I don't know WHY God/Allah/Buddah/The Great A'tuin/The Universe/Charlie the Unicorn has decided in his/her/it's infinite wisdom NOT to give TBF & I a child and frankly I don't want to know.
I have nothing against grieving & feeling bad & swearing at the sky but I HATE wallowing in self pity. It must be in my Oakey raisin' .
Fuckin' shake it off. Stop ya snivvellin'. Harden Up. Stop ya sookin'. Brush yaself off  and just
GET THE FUCK ON WITH IT.

I have to admit that I did try to find some sort of reasoning & answers in the one place where a person is guaranteed to find solace and peace.  No not the bible.
PINTEREST.
I headed straight for the Quotes page. Surely CS Lewis, Oscar Wilde, Oprah or Dr Phil must have some shred of poetic meaning of life for me.
I was confronted with gag inducing pictures of butterflies. Pastel coloured images of dandelions & Labrador puppies with the words "Live in the Sunshine. Swim in the Sea. Drink the Wild Air" typed over.
OMG GET ME A BUCKET.
"Life is about using the Whole box of Crayons" ERRRGGGG VOMIT.
And the king of ALL quotes "Keep Calm and Carry On". JESUS WEPT!!

Yes I am harsh. I blame my parents. I was raised on a steady diet of Monty Python, Marmalade Atkins & Kenny Everett. None of that fancy stuff for us. Steakettes were considered a luxury & so was any ice-cream other than vanilla. We went through about 10 cats in the first 10 years of my life so we learnt very early about life & death. I guess it made me a bit HARD.

So finally, after surfing the blessed internet for more answers I finally find a couple that really have helped me emotionally and are more my style.  Grumpy Cat has ALL the answers.

TBF & I want to thank everybody who have sent us messages & comments of support, prayed & sent warm fuzzy positive vibes into my uterus. I guess Mr Sticky had other plans.
TBF & I will be A.O.K. We have each other's big Bert Newton head's to look at and a shitload of super grouse friends & family to share our lives with.

I shall be throwing myself face first into getting as fit as all get out. I've signed up to do the next Round of Michelle Bridges 12wbt which starts tomorrow. I joined the gym. Bought myself some totally bitching new runners and some weird funky Skins-like pants that make me look like a shiny black anaconda that has swallowed a boar.

I'm not sure what the future has in store for us but by God/Allah/Buddha/Great A'Tuin we are freaking ready
xoxoxoxoxo

When I meet a man, I ask myself "Is this the Man I Want My Children to spend their Weekends With?" - Rita Rudner

So yesterday was a big day of The Implant.

 

I was a wee bit apprehensive this time because my girlie bits still felt like someone had taken to my uterus with a jack hammer and I was a bit ouchy still.

we are the picture of calm

Soon enough, after reading at least one dozen Women's Health Magazines in the waiting room, it was time to go in & get jiggy wid it.
I was so glad TBF was there with me to hold my hand and make me laugh. While having the implant isn't as icky as the egg retrieval, it's not exactly as pleasant as say, having a hot oil massage by Tom Hardy. 

TBF & I had agreed that to get us 'in the mood' we would play some sexy lovin' music and as Dr Smith was getting ready we cranked up some Barry White.
We had to put a stop to his deep baritone singing pretty quick though, as I couldn't stop laughing which didn't help the doc keep a steady hand and the laughing was hurting my girlie parts. I was thinking of changing the song to "Slow Hand" by the Pointer Sisters but decided against it.
The nurse suggested that she could put on the CD of Enya they have in the player. I looked at her like I was going to stab her in the face with the speculum if she pressed play so she quickly retreated away.

After only about a minute Dr Smith was ready to implant the little sucker.
A quick parry & thrust that felt like he was spearing a pig on the spit with a barbeque fork and it was stuck into my uterus like splinter stuck in a thumb.
(it actually doesn't REALLY hurt THAT much. I tend to exaggerate. What? Noooooo)
Then, that was it... all done.

I felt pretty good.  A bit crampy & tired. The nurse told me that the progesterone pessaries make you feel very tired & washed out. Yep. I thought. That's how I feel. Bloddy washed out.
But happy & hopeful.

I shall name him Sticky.

I drove home & quickly changed into my daggiest most slovenly pair of trackie daks & the most comfortable rank T-shirt I owned, scrubbed the slap off my face and hunkered down into my minky blankie with a noice hot cup o tea and my book. Next thing I woke up at 5pm.

"Hay Monkey!". I called to TBF

"Yes Light of my Being?" he yelled back

"I've got an embryo in me gutz".

"We sure do". he replied "We sure do".

 

 

 

I would NOT make a good porn star.

Now we wait until the 12th August to have a blood test to find out if it has taken & we are pregnant.
Don't get too excited. Even if we are preggers that is NO guarantee that it will work.
Deep Breaths.

Luckily I have lots to keep me occupied.

This weekend is GREAZEFEST!! Only the biggest event on the vintage clothing rockabilly music calendar year. MASSIVE. Friday night. Saturday. Saturday night & Sunday.

NEWS FLASH!

I will also be strutting my stuff on the catwalk on Saturday in the fashion parade, modelling the awesome brand of Freddies of Pinewood for the brilliant western wear company Western Wac.
Oooooooo so exciting!!! I can't wait to catch up with all my friends from near & far and listen to freaking awesome music including one of my all-time favourite bands from the US called The Palladins. Last time I saw them was about 15 years ago!!! (showin' my age now!).
Naturally, I will be taking 500 million photos & doing a super duper blog about my rockin' & rollin with all the cool kats & kittens.
I shall be channelling Joan Holloway from Mad Men one night (bit more a 1960s style), Patsy Cline one other night, tough motorcycle broad & by Sunday when I'll be knackered it'll be the fuck-it-whatever-is-comfortable look. Yes I will still be taking it easy and sitting as much as possible.
(note- for my non-rockabilly readers this is incredibly hard at gigs as I just want to get up & dance all night)

Thanks everyone for your wonderful words of prayer & hope & well wishes.
I loves ya all.
If I could give you all a big slightly creepy lingering hug I would.
xoxoxxoxoxo

 

This is literally a picture of the embryo that was implanted. It is only about 1 MILLIMETRE round.

Fucking incredible isn't it!!

It looks a bit like an Oreo or a coffee stain.

Having a child is surely the most beautifully irrational act that two people in love can commit. - Bill Cosby

So on Wednesday TBF & I went into the big house for our big stabby jabbies.

SEXY

PAPER DIAPERS. CREEPY.

 

I wasn't feeling really nervous at all except for the biT about getting the drip thing in my arm. Yuck.
Luckily my anesthesiologist was lovely (he'd want to be for the amount of moola he must make in a day... crikey!)  As I was wheeled into the theatre all the nurses were friendly & chatty making me feel at ease. I made a comment to Dr Smith that it was good they didn't bring out the cling wrap like Dexter until after I'm asleep.  Only one nurse got the reference & I'm not sure if her gasp was one of laughter or disgust. After getting me to sign my life away they pushed the plunger down & I was off to the land of marshmallows & pixies.
Mmmmmmm.

Just lie still Mz Vicki & I'll have those eggs out in a jiffy.

 

When I awoke I was in the 'recovery' ward in what may be the most comfortable recliner chair in the universe. The nurse saw me begrudgingly open my eyes and mumble "Muopyyogduyssuouuo".

All I could think was "give me more of that fabulous stuff in the drip. I'm sooooooooo relaxed and I feel fuzzy."

Apparently, TBF walked in after his op & I slurred at him loudly " Zairrrrr he ifffs...... Da Big Felllasssssss. Zzzzzzzzzzz"

Pretty soon I was awake & scoffing down some incredibly tasteless sandwiches, the best cup of tea ever and an OJ. Then the wonder drugs wore off & the mega pain began.

 

"Farrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk" I exclaimed in a not very ladylike fashion "Jeeez I feel like I've been farking garroted by a rusty melon baller!!  Oooooo my poor prumpets...  Moannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn"

They quickly gave me shitloads Panadene Forte & I was sent on my way.

(probably so they didn't have to listen to my whining anymore)

 

We headed to the comfort of home, but not before stopping in and devouring a huge Big Dad's special Pie with the ferocity of a starving hyena eating a lame zebra. Disgusting really but I was ravenous.

 

Mmmmmm fark Mmmmmm

 

========================

Yesterday we got the phone call from the clinic that out of the out of the eight eggs... five were OK.

Then out of those five TWO of them have fertilised !!!!!

This is great news as you would know it only takes ONE of those little suckers to make a baby.

 

Tomorrow on Saturday we will get another phone call to update us on the progress of the little cells.

By tomorrow they should have split into 8 cells.

All going well we will have one to implant on Monday & hopefully maybe have one to wack in the freezer incase this doesn't work or if we are silly enough to want more..

In the meantime, I am still sore, crampy & tired and walking like I've been riding an all terrain mountain bike without the seat.

I'll be taking it easy this weekend with lots of sitting, lying down & kicking back.

Mummsy is coming to stay to take care of me.

 

 

Have a great weekend everyone and thanks again for all your well-wishes.

We can only keep our fingers crossed.

 

xoxoxoxoxoxo

The First few weeks of Weight Watchers, you're just finding your Feet - Jimmy Carr

On Sunday TBF & I were up at sparrows to get down to the Jetty2Jetty fun run at Woody Point.
We were there bright n early to help my sister in-law & her hubby set up their tent.
They run On The Pulse Physio at Margate. I'm not being biased but they are totally awesome.

We arrived at 6.15am and holy bloody stone the crows sweet Fanny Albright it was freeeeeezing.
It didn't take long to warm up though & pretty soon the area was pulsating with the adrenaline of thousands of runners, the smell of deep heat & B.O and the annoying doof-doof beats of Ministry of Sound Running Trax.

At long last it was time for me to step up & do the 5km.  Most of the WW crew were doing the 10km (those fit motivated buggers) so I started off with the in-laws. I told them that because I was walking it that they should go on without me & at the blast of the horn they were off like a rocket.
The Jetty2Jetty course is lovely. It goes along the Redcliffe foreshore and the weather was glorious!

I brisk walked the first 500 metres and then suddenly I was filled with a very strange feeling.
"What the heck?!" I pondered "OMG are my ovaries might be going to burst or maybe I am going to have diarrhea and poo everywhere!!!"
Then I realised what this foreign sensation was.....
I WANTED TO JOG.
I WANTED to jog?
I wanted to JOG!!
Well cover me in hundreds & thousands and call me pretty!
So off I went. "I'll just jog a little bit. I don't want to overheat my loins"
Strangely I found that I could actually jog for about 5 minutes without a break.
So I jogged/walked humming "Deceptacon by Le Tigre" as I smiled to myself in the warm sun.
As I crossed the finish line I realised that I WANTED TO KEEP GOING!!!???
If I wasn't 'with follicles' I feel that I could have done the 10km.
I was no where near as stuffed as previous runs that I've done.
Oh I was bright red but I turn bright red even after a particularly energetic egg whisking at breakfast.

It was a great day. The only bugger was that I had ordered Weight Matters Team T-shirts from Zazzle and even though it says delivery in 5-12 business days I am STILL fucking waiting. Of course, they don't have a phone number you can ring only a Customer Enquiry Email Form. I finally received a response from them. Partly saying:

Unfortunately, we don't have any more information regarding your shipment at this time. International deliveries are handled by a minimum of two different shipping services, and it is impossible to trace their exact whereabouts in transit. In rare cases, we have seen international packages take as many as six full weeks to reach their destination. It may seem like a long time to wait, but we are required to give the courier a substantial amount of time before we can pursue the matter as a lost international shipment.

Thankfully, the people who ordered a shirts from me were very understanding. Me??....Not happy Jan. F
reaking typical that I try to do something nice and create a TEAM and it goes arse up. *pouts*
At least me managed to get some group pics of the gang before the race.

 

I ended up finishing the race in 45.09 minutes which I'm pretty happy with. I thought it would take me over an hour.

 

 

=========================================================

IVF UPDATE

I had my second internal scan yesterday & it turns out my follicles have multiplied and I now have EIGHT eggs. Dr Smith says that my uterus is looking nice & plump and the eggs look good.

DR SMITH LOOK ALIKE

He asked if I had any cramping and when I answered Yes a bit he responded Gooood Goooood.
(Dr Smith doesn't want any pictures of him on my blog so I will just put this photo up to give you an indication of what he looks like. It's almost IDENTICAL. )
Last night I had my final injections of Gonal & Cetrotide & also another one which is my TRIGGER (it induces ovulation). I preferred to imagine that TBF was injecting me with Adamantium.
(Adamantium is a very dense, artificial, iron-based alloy that is virtually indestructible. A sufficient amount is capable of surviving multiple nuclear explosions with no damage - It is the stuff that was injected into Wolverine).


TBF & I are booked in to go into hospital tomorrow.
I will have my eight eggs harvested. I just imagine a doctor wearing a pair of denim overalls & a big straw hat coming in with a large scythe or sickle and announced "Ok yawl let's open them thar legs and gets ta choppin' Yeee harrrr". I am under anaesthetic thankfully. I LOVE going under. I don't get nauseous afterwards. I actually feel AWESOME afterwards like I have had the BEST sleep EVER.
TBF has to get a TESA (Testicular Sperm Aspiration ) which is under local anesthetic.
Hopefully they will get some good strong spermy from his goolies.
I am having tomorrow & Thursday off work and have been instructed to TAKE IT THE HELL EASY by Dr Smith. Afterwards it feels like bad period pain but luckily I can take Nurofen for it.

I will probably kick back & watch some uplifting happy movies that are on my MUST SEE list.... like
Oranges & Sunshine, Snowtown and The Lives of Others
OR I will just watch the Complete box set of Scrubs AGAIN.

Then we wait for 5 days and hopefully the little cungee-boys will have sweet sexy times with TBFs swimmers and they will create an embryo.

If so I will be implanted on Monday.

WACKY-DO.

:)

Thank you EVERYBODY for your thoughts & body parts crossing for us. We really appreciate it.
If we are successful we will be so happy. 
If it turns out we can't have a baby.... well yes it will be total shit...... but we will be OK knowing we have not only each other  but stacks of fucking awesome friends and family to keep us company instead.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoox
See ya on the flip-side

It's a Big Thing when you Look into It.

 

MUPPET NEWS FLASH

 

Today I had my scan with Dr SMITH (name changed to protect the warm of hands).

I started my needles in the guts on Saturday night. It feels a wee bit more stingy this time.

I'd like to think it's because I'm so much more svelte than last time and I only have 10cm of belly fat to penetrate instead of 20cm.  It's so romantic when TBF grabs a nice big handful of tummy lard before injecting me with enough hormones to literally grow tits on a bull.

It's even more sexy when he gets that serial killer homicidal maniac look on his face just before he injects me.

 

The Gonal F that is injected is a hormone that makes me grow multiple eggs instead of the boring normal ONE egg  that I would naturally produce. This flood of hormones has the most awesome affect on my body (insert sarcastic font). Bloating, Tiredness, Crampiness, a feeling like when I get a stitch in my side after sprinting 10 metres across a bindie patch, Whinginess and a general feeling of Can't-Be-Stuffedness. (hmmmmm this sounds a bit like my normal self now I come to think of it)

 

My scan today was to check to make sure my follicles are plumping up they way they should be.

Without even buying me dinner first (!) Dr SMITH (I told him that I am blogging about him & told him I would change his name) proceeded to 'invade my personal space'. While this procedure doesn't really HURT it's not the most comfortable thing. It turns out I have FIVE eggs developing noicely and I apparently have a VERY good looking uterus.

This may very well be the nicest thing anyone has said to me. 

He was very positive about today's showing & made the comment "Whenever I put it in you we get a positive result".

To which I replied "I wish my husband could say that! BOOM BOOM!! HA harrr"

Cue: tumbleweeds & one very embarrassed Obstetrician

 

Don't you wish your uterus was hot like mine?

 

As of tonight, in addition to the Gonal F we had to also do injections of a thing called Cetrotide which stops my body ovulating. You can only imagine how awesome this makes a girl feel!

All going well egg pick up & tesa will be next Wednesday.

TWO EGG FOLLICLES
3 EGG FOLLICLES
ONE TOTALL HAWT UTERUS.

 

I've got WW weigh in tonight. I have NO idea how I am going to go seeing how my nether regions are laden with follicles (they are only 1.2mm wide & yet seem to weigh about 3kg each!).

I have been quite a good girl this week with my food. I DID eat a packet of Darryl Lee choc coated peanuts yesterday though (my follicles were craving sugar dammit!).... but besides that.

I've been doing lots of walking & actually, on Tuesday,  instead of catching a bus or a taxi, I walked from the city centre to my work. It took me about an hour. (note: I'd already walked for half an hour in the morning) I've realised that when it comes to exercise...

WALKING IS FOR ME.

I love it. I feel so good being out in the fresh air.

When I walked back from the city I felt like I could just keep on walking for another hour more!

I'm not too worried about the scales at the moment.

I'm just focused on eating CLEAN & MOVING & BEING HEALTHY

xoxoxoxoxooxxo

 

 

note: we are NOT counting our follicles before they're hatched!

I'm an idealist. I don't know where I'm going but I'm on my Way - Carl Sandburg

GAIN OF 1 kg this week. Not unexpected.

Aunty Flo decided to once again curse me by filling  my reproductive organs with some sort of evil cement.
I didn't whimper & curse this week. I accepted my gain with a calmness to rival the Dali Lama on Temazepam. Ommmmmmmm. bloody stupid menstruate Ommmmmm bloaty guts gives me the irrits Ommmmmmm

The arrival of the Aunty means that we can FINALLY start IVF!
This afternoon I am off to City Fertility to pick up my stabby tummy jabby kits and to get

THE PLAN

 

THE PLAN gives a day by day break down on what day I'm getting what inserted, stabbed, harpooned, injected, harvested, imbedded, implanted, jabbed, stuck in and plugged up.
I'm very excited. I just LOVE a plan. I love marking it on my calendar (at work, at home and on my phone) and knowing 'where I'm at".
Yes yes I am quite obsessed about lists & planning.
Today I wrote DAY ONE on the calendar..... IN RED..... NIKO.

Doing IVF this time feels very different to the previous goes. I think each round you do is different from the last. I've learnt from the last ones. I WILL NOT be downloading pregnancy apps, surfing pregnancy sites, flicking through Cleo pregnancy magazine, reading What to Expect When You're Expecting and I certainly WILL NOT be watching the movie. (mainly because it looks like crap and has Jay-Lo in it).
I will not consider myself TRUELY pregnant until (fingers crossed) I get up the duff & make it to the 12 week scan.

At WW last night we talked about setting GOALS. My main goal is simply to MOVE. Get my lily white cottage cheese arse up off the chair and MOVE.
My iddy-bitty fit bit zippy is so great with motivating me to move more and thank heavens the rain stopped & the sun came out so I could go for a walk!

Last night, we also had to write down a PLEDGE that we have to stick to for the next 2 months.
Now, because I am about to IVF & my body will be like a shanty hut being hit by a hormonal tsunami, I decided NOT to pledge that I will take up running, parkour or competitive MMA.
For the next 2 months I have to CHILL THE HELL OUT.

Yes, go for noice little saunters down the waterfront, yes watch my food intake, yes track the shit out of my food and be healthy BUT my main focus will be to
NOT STRESS MYSELF OUT AND TO FUCKING WELL RELAX DAMMIT!

 

Tomorrow we are off to Oakey to see Dad & then to the Woombi to visit Mummsy.

Sunday I plan on doing the food shopping, the clothes washing & watching a movie and dagging out around the house.

See, nice & relaxing.

Oh and also having nightly injections into me guts.

Happy Times

 

I hope you all have a great weekend!

oxxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

MY PLEDGE

 

“It’s not easy to juggle a pregnant wife and a troubled child, but somehow I managed to squeeze in 8 hours of TV a day.” - Homer Simpson

I was on the phone to my Mummsy on the weekend discussing my mystery anxiety.
I was hoping that maybe the intense feelings of butterflies in my gut were just something as simple as me having intestinal worms or a side effect of my metabolism suddenly becoming like a hyperactive grey hound.
Mummsy is a social worker and blitzed her uni degree by using her own children as Case Study A, B & C. (names changed to protect the not so innocent) She's a very good listener & likes to put on her "lie down on the couch and tell me more" face.
I chatted through my usual stresses, IVF, shit Finances, fluctuating weight, should I buy ANOTHER Kate Moss red lipstick (it's pink red with a dash of coral not red red like the others Dammit!) and my episodes of depression.

"Narrrrrr Mummsy" I whined "I'm totes cool with all that stuff. I mean I'm a bit stressEE but not insomnia stressed".
"Hmmmmmm" Mummsy responded wisely.

Then it hit me. The light bulb came on. The elevator finally went to the top floor & I was suddenly playing with a full deck.
"I know what it is Mummsy". I declared.
"Hmmmmm?" Mummsy answered in calming tones.

"O...M....G I am terrified that we actually might just succeed in IVF this round. Bloody hell. What if I actually DO GET PREGNANT!!!"

Now I know what your thinking... Well derrr Vicki. The whole point of IVF is getting preggers!
I guess I never occurred to allow it into my consciousness what would happen if we succeed.

I only have a few worries.
1.  What if I swell up like a dead dugong?
2.  What if my whole vagina falls out and they have to poke it back in with a stick?
3. What if we have a hideously ugly baby?

4. What if I get post natal depression & leave the baby to survive on Friskies cat crunchies?
5. How the hell do you bath a baby?
6.  What if the baby screams for 3 years non stop?
7.  What if I get overloaded with the amount of clothing choices for the baby in Best N Less & I just end up dressing it in the same outfit for the first 2 years of it's life & it ends up with serious identity issues and becomes a serial killer?
8.  What if the child grows up to be a total arsehole? (like me when I was a teen *shudder*) or like that Honey-Boo-Boo monstrosity ?
9.  What if my pelvic floor collapses & I have to wear an adult diaper for the rest of my life because I keep pooing myself.
10.  What if I just can't cope & it causes fighting between TBF & I and he leaves me for a super model and goes to live in America and I'm left alone with a screaming child and no energy to even put a bandanna in my hair?!
11.  How the fuck do you afford to have a baby????
12.  What if I can't cope with baby vomit, poo & snot & I continually vomit over the child in disgust.

After venting the above completely rational fears to Mummsy, I felt the weight of anxiety leave me.
I exhaled. I felt MUCH better. I realised that I will be fine.  I have a huge support of family & friends who will help me.  TBF is way too disorganised and apathetic to leave me for some model and when in doubt I can always rely on Pinterest to show me the way.

"Thank you SO much Mummsy. I love you. You are the BEST!" I hollered down the phone.

"Hmmmmmmm" Mummsy replied lovingly.

xooxxoxoxoxo

If I asked for a cup of coffee, someone would search for the double meaning." ~Mae West

Well it now been ONE WEEK since giving up caffeine.

GIVE UP CAFFEINE .... WHAT THE HECK?!! I hear you wail.

Well whilst Googling even more websites about infertility and more diet miracles that will help transform my sad ovarian sacks into bouncy happy healthy balls of fertility ( I imagine them as those little Inner Health Plus dudes)
I did find a common thread with most. Get in at least 30 minutes of movement a day, eat shit loads of green leafy veges, take folate tablets, drink lots of water, give up the durries and the turps and GIVE UP THE CAFFEINE.
Now, I already eat mountains of greens and drink about 2 litres of water with Apple Cider Vinegar (some Pinterest site told me it would help neutralise my gut acid which has got to be good ... right?).
I take one of those Pregnancy Plus multi vitamin mineral tablet every night.
I gave up the cancer sticks about 4 years ago & surprisingly BWS hasn't gone into liquidation with my giving up the grog just over a year ago. I figure if I can give up the beloved grape then I can ditch the double shot skinny lattes.

 

Initially, for the first 3 days it felt like an alien had burrowed into the base of my neck & spread it's tentacles into my skull (tentacles with razors instead of suction pads) and then proceeded to squeeze & tear into my brain causing migraine like symptoms & a feeling like I simultaneously wanted to rip my own scalp off with one of work's Stanley knives and stab with my Staedtler black pen the next person who looked at me . I felt like I had been taken over by an alien.

"Holy shit" I surmised through squinty bleary eyes "If this is what detoxing from caffeine is like imagine what that shit is actually DOING to my brain!!!"

 

After 3 days the horrific head-ache stopped. I realised that the hip coffee shop next door does a brilliant large skinny flat white decaf that is JUST as good as 'normal' coffee and the office Decaf Moccona is pretty good too! The only thing I now notice is I get really tired around 3pm or maybe my eyes are just tired from looking at too many pictures of Grumpy Cat on the Internet.

==============================

My other amazing achievement this week is that I have made time in my day for some exercise.

I walk for 15 minutes before I start work then 15 minutes at lunch & then 15 minutes when I get home. Better than a poke in the eye with a blunt stick I'd say. The 15 minute blocks work in well with my hours. So with my mega Color Run walk on the weekend I have clocked up 26 Activity Points this week. BOOYARRRR!

 

 

Now, according to my bizarre circus freak loss/gain weight chart, this week I am due to lose around 1.8kg.

I hope so. I've been pretty darn good this week.

So we shall see eh?

oxoxoxoxoxoxox

 

I never use a napkin on my lap at a restaurant....because I believe in myself - Hannibal Buress

Well lock it in Eddie. TBF & I are about to board the IVF train again. ROUND FIVE.

We have decided that we haven't pissed nearly enough money down the drain, gone through enough emotional trauma or had enough needles.

It began last week. For some reason the clinic needs a new letter of referral from our GP. So we ducked into the medical centre. It was 10 minutes to closing with no patients waiting at all.
Dr Meenospeekadaenglish was the only one on. We were in & out of his office in literally 2 minutes. We didn't even sit down. He didn't even have to write the letter as it was already on my file from last time. He literally grunted at us, pressed print, signed it & put it in an envelope and muttered something at us about taking the green slip to the desk.
The slightly bedraggled receptionist (you couldn't pay me enough to work in a medical centre) took the green slip.
Like the slug lady in Monsters Inc she drolly says "That's $81"
"Ummm Exsqueeze Me? Baking Powder? $81!!!"
Good old Dr Menospeekadaenglish doesn't bulk bill.
"You get $31 back on Medicare".
"We didn't have a consultation!!!!" I shrieked "We were in there for 2 minutes! He didn't DO anything!!!"
Too bad So Sad. $81 Thank YOU.
Bastards.
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Thursday arvo we had our appointment with Dr Dollars about doing another round of IVF. He agreed that yes we must be ready for a holiday on the Funny Farm but assured us that it IS VERY POSSIBLE for us to get up the duff. (he is probably mentally rubbing his hands together visualising his new Maserati)
We are going to start in mid July which should be enough time for me to sell a kidney on EBay and for TBF to sell himself on the street to raise the funds.
(either that or wait for Bendigo to process our personal loan).
So here we go again.
Needle tummy jabs
Blood tests
Internal ultrasounds that make you feel like you are in some sort of weird adult film
Under anaesthetic to have any eggs HARVESTED. Yes HARVESTED. Ewwww.
TBF gets the needle in the goolies.
The eggs and sperm meet in a petrie dish. Have a romantic dinner. Put on some Barry White and hopefully git it orn.
Then if the little suckers grow ...
I get to go in & get it implanted into my bits like something out of The Matrix.
Then the horrible two week wait chanting to myself "just don't think about it just don't think about it just don't think about it"
Then if it is positive....
the nerve shredding 12 week wait chanting "just don't think about it. am a nauseous? just don't think about it. are my boobs sore?. just don't think about it"

So, If you don't want to read about TBF jabbing me with tummy needles, stories of excess bloating, blood tests and having weird things shoved up my.... well you know then I suggest you unsubscribe from this blog.
It's a nerve shredding experience that can transform even the most calm collected peace-out man person into a blubbering over-emotional wreck. Thank YOU massive hormonal upheavals!
The worst pain of all though is the tearing, ripping & shredding of the bank account.
OUCH! The scar from last round STILL hasn't healed.
All this so we can have our very own poo-machine. We must be mad.

The common reaction to this has been *THUD* as the jaws drop to the floor followed by "What?! I thought you swore NEVER AGAIN!"
I think I will be OK no matter what the outcome. With each time we do IVF we get a bit less stressed because we know what to expect now.

We decided that "you know what... fuck it" and we put it out there  to the public last night.
We didn't do this to have people go all gooey over us or for a sympathy thing. We figure that if enough people send us positive new-agey hippy vibes you never know they might just penetrate my hard spongy uterus and help produce us a little person.
I will also be covering my office in images of fertility deities & repeating bile inducing positivity mantras to myself like "My ovaries are like a warm pool of love" and "TBF's testes are toasty oceans of fertility and life". GAG.

I WILL of course be blogging about my experiences. My narcissistic life has always been an open book. A book similar to a Clive Barker or Stephen King book yes but.........
I'm really NOT that egotistic. I actually genuinely like to make people smile & help people.
If someone is thinking about doing IVF I would rather them not be ashamed or embarrassed. I would rather tell it WARTS N EMBRYOS N ALL.
If anyone has any questions ... yep I will try to answer them.

I know some of you might whisper behind your hand "but what if she miscarries or doesn't fall? That'll be bloody awkward"
WELL SHIT. That will fucking suck and we will deal with it if it happens.

So welcome aboard as the tummy stabby stabby jabbies begin again soon.

In the meantime,  I have Rusty Pinto gig this weekend, The Colour Run on Sunday, a long girls weekend with Mummsy & Le-Le, a Come-as-a-Children's-TV-character party and an Ugly Sweater BBQ before all that begins.

I have GOT to try & figure a way to get some exercise into my daily routine. I am SOOOOO slack and I really have to get some blood flowing to the nether regions.
Too much information? You ain't heard nothin' yet.

xoxoxooxxo
Thanks for the support.