Second verse, not the same as the first

The first time I was a surrogate I was a little baffled by the whole process. I mean, it all seems so strange. You take something from person A and something from person B, put them together, grow them in a lab and then put them in person C and it turns into a baby. Weird right? On top of that there's the endless string of ultrasounds, blood tests and hormone shots. It all seems like some big science experiment. I just sort of went along with it, not even convinced that it would work.

So you can imagine my surprise when I got pregnant.

This time I knew what I was doing. I was prepared for the blood tests, for the ultrasounds, for the hormone shots that would make my butt sore and lumpy, for the endless scrutiny and discussion of my lady parts. None of it surprised me. It no longer seemed weird and confusing to me. I knew what I was doing. My body knew what it was doing. We had done this before and there was no doubt in my mind that we would do it again.

So you can imagine my surprise when I didn't get pregnant.

I just found out yesterday what I had been suspecting for a while. The transfer didn't work.

I am disappointed, bitterly disappointed. I really feel like I let the guys down even though everyone keeps telling me this is not my fault. I guess that's true but it still feels crummy to have this all fail on my watch.

I stopped the hormone shots last night. It's the one good side of all this. I get a few days off to let the lumps heal a little bit. I'll be right back at it in a week or so though.

They guys and I are getting right back up on the horse. We're looking at doing another transfer in a month or so. I guess the upside of this is that I get another trip with a couple of days of rest, relaxation and room service. And maybe this time we'll eat Japanese food.

I'm still confident that I am going to get pregnant for these guys. We'll be able to look back at this as just a little bump in the road. I'm going to build another fantastic uterine lining and get even friendlier with the blood draw lady. I'm going get all bloated and weepy and chocolate cravey. I'm going to have my blood drawn, my uterus probed and my butt re-lumpified. And it will all be worth it when I get that positive pregnancy test that I know is coming.

For tonight though I am going to have a glass of wine and a good pout session. I'll think positive tomorrow.

Two years ago today we had a garage sale.

10 things you MUST know about my little brother

1. He has a dance routine to the song Layla. It involves doing The Worm.
2. At my wedding reception he stood up in front of everyone and sang In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. He even did the "na na na na na na na NA na" guitar part.
3. He is very funny and if you need proof of that you can read his blog. Be warned though, it might make you very, very afraid of being around criminal justice majors.
4. One year for his birthday my parents took him on a cruise. A CRUISE! I have never been on a cruise. I will leave you to work out the logistics/fairness of that one.
5. He ain't heavy, he's my brother.
6. He used to make Mac n' Cheese by putting the milk and butter into the boiling water and then pouring it all out when the noodles were done and then mixing the dry powder into the noodles.
7. He is very sensitive and doesn't like it when you make fun of the way he used to make Mac n' Cheese.
8. In spite of his inability to read the back of a Mac n' Cheese box he went on to become a professional chef.
9. He has recently left the world of professional cooking to go back to school and become a scary criminal justice law talking guy.
10. He claims to not like people but then he asked me to link to this so that all my readers would see it. A friend of his from college is facing the unimaginable and I know you good people care and will do what you can and pass the word along.

One year ago today I saw the grossest thing ever at a wedding reception.
Four years ago today I was pregnant and HUNGRY.

When they come for me, it will be because of the underwear in my fruit basket

I am neurotic.

I know that's probably not an earth shattering revelation to most of you. As much as I like to pretend I am 100% non-luniticy sometimes my neurosis creeps out beyond my control. Like how I'll never give a second thought to my family's finances but then spend hours laying awake in bed at night wondering how it is that no one tells Donald Trump how really and truly terrible his hair looks. I don't let the big problems of life get to me. I'm too busy sweating the small stuff.

A few months ago my friend's daughter spent the night at my house. After she had left in the morning I noticed that she had left a pair of her underwear in the bathroom. I thought nothing of it and threw it in the washing machine so I could wash it and return it the next time I saw my friend.

As I was folding the clean laundry a few days later (shut up) I came across the underwear again. I wasn't going to be seeing my friend for a week or so I decided to put the underwear somewhere where I wouldn't forget it. There was a small problem though. Where do you store underwear that belongs to someones child? Everywhere I thought of seemed ..... odd. The shelf by the front door? No, I didn't want them out on display. In the closet? I didn't want them to get buried in the avalanche of coats and shoes. In my dresser? That seemed weird on a lot of levels. Under my bed? That's the first place the police would look.

You see, at this point in the story I had lost it a little bit. I started thinking about how if the police ever came to my house for any reason they might decide to do a random search and then they would discover the underwear belonging to another persons kid and I would be arrested under the Things That Sort Of Make You Look Like A Predator Even Though You're Not law. So clearly the underwear had to be hidden.

I don't remember how I decided to hide the underwear where I did. I don't even remember doing it. In fact, once it was hidden I forgot where it was. I pretty much forgot about the underwear all together. For a really, really long time. Every so often when I would see my friend I would think "Oh yeah, I really need to give that underwear back." but then I would realize I didn't even remember where I had hidden it.

Cut to a few weeks ago when I was cleaning my house to get ready for a party. I was artfully arranging the fruit in my fruit basket and guess what I found. The underwear. In my fruit basket. No matter how normal you like to think that you are, you'll be forced to question that when you're standing in your kitchen asking "When did I put this Curious George underwear in the fruit basket?" Don't even ask yourself why you did it. The answer will only upset you.

Of course I couldn't leave the underwear there in the basket so I moved it to the top of my dresser so that I could promptly forget about it again. Now it sits there, mocking me. Every time I walk past it I think "I need to give that back!" and every time I see my friend I think "D'oh! I still have the underwear!"

I have to be honest. I think part of me is hanging onto the underwear on purpose. If I give it back I won't be able to obsess about it any more and I'll have to move on to more pressing things. Like the fact that I still have my friends gloves from last winter. And one of her daughter's Hannah Montana socks.

I have a problem.

One year ago today Joseph attempted a new facial expression.
Four years ago today Jesse didn't like my bean soup.

In the two week wait

So, yeah. I'm home. I have been since Saturday. I'm just to freaking tired to update. This second hormone is really kicking my butt. I can sleep for 12 hours and wake up feeling like I haven't slept at all. Also, it's making me grow a beard.

Aaaanyway. I'm back. The trip to LA was great. I had lots of fun hanging out with the guys and getting to know them better. We hung out by the pool together and ate Indian food together and watched House together and ate omelets together and all in all had a really nice time. And did I mention all the eating I did? Between dinners out and room service and snack boxes on the plane I feel like the entire trip was one big whirlwind of me cramming food into my face.

That's ok though, I'm eating for three now. Maybe. It depends on how many of the two embryos that were transferred decide to stick around. Maybe I am only eating for two. Maybe only for one. I don't know yet. I don't even know if I am pregnant at all yet. The two week wait sucks. I have a blood test on the 26th and I'm sure I'll take a dozen pregnancy tests before then but right now it's really too soon to know anything.

So I wait. And eat. And work (gently) in the garden. And play Mafia Wars on Facebook. And wait. And try to sneak in a nap here and there. And wait.

Two years ago today my last surrogacy was causing me some stress.
Four years ago today Joseph's imagination went into overdrive.

This pot roast better be good

I'm sitting in my hotel room waiting for the worlds most expensive room service to be delivered to me. After I eat I am going to go and shower and shave my legs three times. Look, you're pretty exposed when you're getting an embryo transfer. The last thing you want to worry about is if everyone is looking at your hairy legs. Well, I guess that's not the last thing you want to worry about but I'm just going to go ahead and stop talking about body hair now.

The transfer is at 9AM tomorrow. I have a good feeling about it. I really feel like it's going to work. My lining is "as thick as a pillow top mattress". Or so I have been told. I've done my part. Tomorrow I just have to show up with my freshly shaved legs and let the doctor do his job.

We'll see how it all goes. Fingers crossed.

Two years ago today Joseph wrote the sweetest essay in the world about me.

The universe wants you to see me naked

How often do you accidentally flash people? Because it seems to happen to me a lot. See here and here for proof. And that's only a fraction of the time. Most of my public flashings have never made it to this blog. Like the time I was a pallbearer at my grandfather's funeral and I was wearing a long, flowing skirt. As we were carrying the coffin to the grave a gust of wind came along and blew my long, flowing skirt up into my face. It's difficult to look solemn and dignified when you're frantically trying to swat your long, flowing skirt out of your face and keep everyone from seeing your funeral panties.

I don't think most people find themselves exposed to the general public as often as I do. Maybe I'm wrong though. Maybe everyone has brief moments of accidental nakedness. Let's find out shall we? Let's take this little quiz.

You go out to lunch with your friend. You are wearing a loose fitting shirt. When you leave the restaurant you...
A. buckle your child into her car seat without incident and drive home.
B. lean over to buckle your child into her car seat and feel a large gust of wind blow your loose fitting shirt up over your head. As you wildly paw at your shirt you catch your hand on your bra and nearly cause both boobs to pop out and psychologically scar all of downtown St Cloud.

If you answered A you are a normal person. If you answered B you are me. Or at least a person like me. But I really don't think this kind of stuff happens to everyone else. Or does it?

Two years ago today Joseph explained digestion.
Three years ago today we went to a open house and it was boring.
Four years ago today I was pretty sure being pregnant made you gassy.

Better times ahead

You may noticed (or you may have not) that I am in a bit of a blog slump. It's not that I don't have anything to talk about, it's that I am to damned crabby to talk about it. The hormones have hit me like a Mac truck and I now spend most of my time either crying or trying not to yell at whoever it is that's making me cry at that moment. I also manage to squeeze in nearly round the clock chocolate consumption.

It's not all for nothing though. The hormones are doing their job. Blood tests show my hormone levels are exactly where they should be. On Friday I had an ultrasound to measure my uterine lining. Three seconds into the ultrasound the nurse doing it said "Oh wow! Your lining looks great! You've made a perfect spot for those embryos!" I am a rock star at building a uterine lining.

On Wednesday I will fly to Los Angeles. On Thursday I will have the embryo transfer. I will take it easy for a while and then fly home on Saturday. I have to admit that I am looking forward to a couple of days of rest, relaxation and room service. Keep your fingers crossed for me that I come back in a better mood and, more importantly, pregnant.

In the meantime, if you hear someone weeping quietly, don't be alarmed. It's just me feeling sad because I have no chocolate within arms reach.

Two years ago today I was in a bit of a bad mood about crappy internet people.
Four years ago today I was 17 weeks pregnant and gassy.

One hour is all it takes

I went to the gym for an hour tonight. I think I'm in pretty good shape now so it's probably ok if I never go again. The screaming burning pain in my thighs and butt probably indicates that I have reached my peak physical condition. It also probably indicates that I should have a brownie.

Ok, I suppose I can go back tomorrow night. I'll go back and use this crazy machine of death that I could only do for five minutes tonight and that will probably give me nightmares. I hope you're all happy. Then I'll go use the treadmill at the very back of the room so that no one is forced to watch my rather ample behind jiggle back and forth. I hope you're satisfied.

Honestly, it felt pretty good to work it. I didn't totally hate it. I think I'll like it even better once I've bought myself a good swimsuit and added some laps to my work out. Haha, "my workout". Look at me talking like a person who goes to the gym. Which I guess I am. Crazy.

One year ago today I was terrified of a beloved childhood character.
Four years ago today I got a belly.

Randomosity

I am giving away a breast pump. If you would like to win it you can enter here.

Today Elle and I went to the hardware store to buy telephone wire. We couldn't find what we were looking for but we did find a blueberry bush. When Elle saw it her eyes lit up and she squealed with joy. Now we own a blueberry bush.

Jesse gives me my hormone shots and we have discovered that there is no way to talk about it without it sounding really dirty. "Stick it in fast and make sure it's in all the way."

If you are in the mood for having your heart smashed into a million pieces then watch the movie Dear Zachary. It's an amazing documentary and so very, very well done. I watched it on Friday and I am still recovering from it today.

Coach on Survivor might be the most delusional person I have ever seen on reality tv. I always wonder if he really believes the stuff he's telling people. He can't really believe that a tribe of Amazons really wanted to eat his butt, can he? Because if he does he is the only person in the entire world who believes that.

We have decided to take the lazy approach to our garden. We're slapping a fence around it and calling it a day. Maybe next year we'll be organized enough for raised beds but this year we're going to see how well our vegetables do when we are total slackers.

Joseph has lost another of his top teeth. The entire top front of his mouth is empty except for one front tooth that's coming in. I don't know how me manages to eat anything. He sure does have a crazy cute smile now though.

Tomorrow I am joining a gym. Look forward to my update in two weeks where I quit a gym. I am afraid. Very, very afraid.

Two years ago I had the most beautiful daughter. I still do of course.
Four years ago today I had problems with eye jelly.

Not being three is one of my best features

I had to go and get blood drawn today as part of my pre-transfer monitoring. As Elle and I walked into the lab I recognized the person working there as the same person who drew my blood the last two times I was there. I handed her the order for the blood work and she quickly looked it over. Then she looked up and me and said "Hooray! It's you!"

"Wow" I thought to myself. "I guess I made a real impression on her last time I was here. How nice to have someone so excited to see me!"

I smiled at her brightly and said "I'm happy to see you again too!"

The woman looked confused for a moment and then laughed uncomfortably. "Oh sorry!" she said. "I just meant I was happy that you're the one here to get your blood drawn and not your little girl. I get so nervous when little ones come in and it's always such a relief when it's their parents who are getting blood drawn."

Well that wasn't embarrassing or awkward at all. On the plus side I now have something new to add to my big list of cool things about myself. Jen - adequate cook, good mother, occasionally amusing, in possession of good child-bearing hips, excellent driver, NOT a three year old.

Awesome.

PS In all fairness, anyone who is not three earns extra points in my book too. Elle never really went through the Terrible Twos but right now we're smack dab in the middle of the Rip Your Head Off And Kick It Around Like A Soccer Ball If You So Much As Look At Me Wrong Threes.