Oh universe, you slay me

I have goosebumps.  The kind that even go up to your head so that all your hair is kind of standing up and it looks really full of body and fabulous.  What a day this has been.

So remember like a week ago when I was all "Oh, maybe I'll be a surrogate again, I don't really know.  We'll see."?

Yeah. I remember that.  And now I just got off the phone with a pharmacy in California to arrange delivery of my surrogacy medications on Monday.

I will never get used to this nervous excitment and happiness.  I keep switching between smiling and thinking "Ack!  So much left to do!"

And there is a lot left to do.  Contracts to finalize, ultrasounds and blood tests to schedule, a psych evaluation to pass (stop laughing!) and schedules to juggle and organize.

But for right now?  Eeeeeeee!

Three years ago today I fit into my jeans.

Just call me Mother of the Year

Joseph lulled me into a false sense of security. When he was little I could give him a stack of books and he would be busy for hours stacking them and lining them up. He never got into things he wasn't supposed to. He didn't like the taste or texture of most foods so he never tried to eat anything he wasn't supposed to. I knew this wasn't typical behavior for kids but I guess I never gave a lot of thought to what is typical for kids.

Elle is typical. She likes to explore. She likes to get into things. She like to try new things out. She like to eat. She likes to taste new foods. She can be a little bit sneaky when she's trying to get away with something.

That false sense of security I built up with Joseph came back and bit me in the butt yesterday.

Elle and I were in the backyard. She was playing with a bucket and shovel and I was working in the garden. After a while Elle got bored and asked if she could go in the house to get another toy. Normally I would have gone in with her but I was up to my elbows in dirt and weeds and grass clippings so I decided just that one time to let her do it herself. After all, she's three and a half, it should be ok to let her out of my sight for a couple of minutes in my own house right? Right?

Not more than three minutes after going inside Elle came back out with a couple of toys from her room. She played and we chatted while I finished up my gardening. After about 45 minutes we headed inside and Elle made a bee line for the candy basket. From somewhere inside of it she pulled out a box of chocolate laxatives. I don't know why they were in there, I didn't even know they were in there. I laughed and said "Oh no Elle, that's not candy!"

"Yes it is!" she cheerfully responded. "I eated some already."

I look inside the box and sure enough, an entire bar of laxatives is gone. Elle ate twelve times the adult dose of laxatives then neatly closed up the box and threw the wrapper away. Then she went to her room, grabbed a toy and came outside to where I was gardening. And I didn't even realize she had done it.

Once I realized what she had done my jaw dropped to the floor. She looked so pleased with herself that a tiny part of me wanted to laugh but first I had to be sure she wasn't seconds away from shooting her intestines out at a high rate of speed.

On the back of the box it says "In case of overdose call Poison Control immediately."

A bunch of thoughts ran through my head. If I called would they yell at me for stupidly storing laxatives in a candy basket? I probably deserved it. Would they laugh at me? I probably deserved that too. Would they send someone to my house to take the kids away since I can't supervise them properly? Would this all go on my permanent record?

I put my worries aside and called Poison Control (after looking up the number on-line*) and explained the situation to a very nice man named Dave. Dave didn't yell at me or laugh at me. He was friendly, calm and informative. I was frantic and nearly in tears when I called but Dave put me at ease right away. He told me Elle would be ok but that we would probably want to stock up on Pedialyte and diapers (our precarious potty training situation has been shot to shit by this incident). The main thing though was that he reassured me Elle would be all right.

She has been all right. Oh, don't get me wrong. It's like a poop tsunami around here. Elle seems no worse for the wear though. In fact, she thinks it's just grand that she gets to drink special "teddy bear juice" and have her mama fuss over her. She's happy as a clam.

I feel horrible though. What a stupid, stupid thing to have happen. It goes without saying that the laxatives should not have been in the candy basket. I don't know how they got there but that doesn't make it ok. I shouldn't have let her go into the house alone. I just should have been more careful all around.

Edited to take out some real Debbie Downer stuff. Sorry about that.

It's hard to feel like a successful parent when your kid is sitting on the potty chair and drinking her 4th Pedialyte of the day.

* Toll free at 1-800-222-1222. As for Dave. He's very nice.

Four years ago today Joseph was spooky.

And also by the letters F and U

Jesse: I am stopping at the store on the way home from work.
Me: Oh? What for?
Jesse: I need to get something for work and then also um.... I forgot what else I needed.
Me: ........
Jesse: Hello?
Me: God, you irritate me so much sometimes.

This real conversation was brought to you by hormones. Hormones - Making me hate my husband since Monday.

Also brought to you by the number one.
Because when your three year old flips you off while trying to show you that her finger nail polish wore off you ask her to show you again and then you take a picture of it and then you blog it because you think it's funny. At least you do if you are me.

One year ago today Joseph had a surprise for me and Jesse vaccumed up a puddle of water.
Two years ago I got a date for the embryo transfer that would result in Little A being born.
Four years ago today I had an urgent warning about candy.

I apologize in advance

I am just going to go ahead and say it now so I can get it out of the way: I am sorry.

I started my hormone shots yesterday and I am already feeling the effects. I had kind of forgotten about this part of the whole process. I mean, I knew the shots weren't exactly fun but I forgot what a number they did on my emotionally last time.

It's not that I am crabby exactly. It's more like I am moody and sad and convinced that everyone is just waiting for me to leave the room so that they can plan their "Jen sucks and we're happier when she's not around" themed party. It's not a great mix and I freely admit that for the next few weeks I might not be real fun to be around. Although you guys were probably all thinking that I was never that fun to be around anyway. Weren't you? Waaahhhhhh!!!

But I digress. This won't last that long. It's only a couple of weeks until I start taking the second hormone and that actually helps a little. The embryo transfer is scheduled for May 14th and assuming I get pregnant I won't have to be on the hormones for very long.

In the meantime though? I apologize for being moody and emotional and a big lame sad-sack. I apologize if I get angry over stupid things or slam doors because I think you looked at me funny or burst into tears because I take a simple action (like you laughing at someone elses joke) as your way of saying you like everyone else better than me. It's just the hormones and I will be better soon.

In other news, in response to my last post about the toxic logs I was asked by Stimey* "How tempted were you to just leave them there?"

The answer is: Very. If it was just Jesse and I eating the vegetables I would probably just risk it. Because I would rather eat poison than move something heavy. Since I don't want my children to start glowing in the dark I guess we'll have to move the Logs of Death. I think we're going to go with raised gardens although I was fascinated by the concept of straw gardening that a few people suggested to me and I think I might try it out next year. The bad news is that switching to raised gardens means more work and that makes me want to cry because I think it means even my yard hates me.

*Have you met Stimey? Because you should. She's a lot like me but she has 50% more children than I do and as far as I know she almost never cries about her yard. Other than that she is my internet souls sister and I have occasionally contemplated packing up my family and going to stalk visit her. I adore her even though she likes tomatoes and claims to not know how to text. We've overcome those differences through a shared love of ice cream and quirky children. She is awesome and you should go read her blog because she is going to me a lot more fun than I am for the next few weeks. Go on! Save yourself! Go!

Four years ago today I had bad restaurant karma.

Home again, home again diggity ouch

I had my gallbladder removed. It sucked. Well, not so much the removal but the pain afterwards. They gave me just about every painkiller known to man and nothing was helping with the post-op pain. Finally they said "You can be in pain here or you can be in pain at home but there's nothing more we can do for you."

I chose home. This morning Jesse called the doctors office to see if there was anything else that could be done. The doctor was annoyed that I had been told to go home in the first place and told Jesse to take me in to the ER.

At the ER they checked me out. I had an x-ray, ultrasound and (for some reason I don't really understand) an enema. The x-ray and ultrasound showed nothing and the enema only served to make me more uncomfortable. They sent me home with pretty much the same advice as the post-op nurses gave me. "Stay here and be in pain or go home and be in pain." (I sort of think that at some point when you tell people that none of the painkillers you're being given are working that they start to think you're a junkie. It's a little frustrating.)

So now I'm at home. In pain. I'm annoyed that none of the painkillers worked for me but what can you do? I'm sure I'll be feeling better in a day or two. In the mean time I'll lay in bed and watch 30 Rock on Netflix and eat Haribo Raspberries. What morphine can't fix, gummies and Fey will.

I've blogged for 1000 posts and all I got was this lousy gallbladder surgery scar

This post is set to publish as I go in for my surgery tomorrow. Err, today. Whatever. It's a pretty crappy way to celebrate my 1000th post on this blog but somehow it just seems to fit.

Since I have to get up at 5 AM I suppose I should be sleeping right now but I can't. I've got so many important questions going through my head. Questions like "Will I have to take my underwear off for the surgery?" and "Can I keep my gallstones or are they considered medical waste?" and "But what if I want to keep them? Are they really waste if it's my waste and I want them?" and "Why in the hell would I want my gallstones?"

I was planning on doing a sort of best of post for this momentous occasion but maybe this is just as good. No one really reads those things anyway and besides, the first two thirds of this blog is absolute crap anyway. The last third is crap too but now I sometimes post recipes and cool pictures of snowflakes.

Today the realtor who sold us our house sent us a flashlight and a card wishing us a happy new year. No real reason for that story, I'm just wondering if it makes any more sense to you guys than it does to me.

I love you all, thank you for reading and I'll see you on the flip side. And by flip side I mean the side where your gallbladder is removed. Or rather, my gallbladder. Painkillers are fun.

Like hot needles in my eye

I'm on day 2 of a killer migraine that just won't quit. The good news is that I've got some pretty heavy duty pain meds that are (mostly) taking care of the pain. The bad news is that the meds make want to do things like sleep all day and fall over for no reason.

I had a migraine exactly like this when I was pregnant with Elle so I'm sure it's no big deal and it will pass and everything will be fine but for right now, jeebus cripes, this aint fun.

Yesterday I went to the ob to get checked out because I wanted to be sure that my haeadache was just a migraine and not pre-eclampisa or something because I'm totally paranoid about that this time around. I didn't get to see my regular ob because he's always booked (overbooked actually) so they had me see this total dingbat instead. She checks my blood pressure - fine. Listens to the baby's heartbeat - fine. Weighs me - ack! Then she says "Well, you look great and baby sounds great. Anything else I can do for you today?"

Um. Yeah. Can you do something about this SEARING PAIN IN MY TEMPLE? Please? She advises that I try some Tylenol. Lady, if Tylenol had worked for me I wouldn't be here right now holding my head in my hands and moaning in pain. Then she suggested caffine. Again, nice try. Then she started rattling off some other meds she could give me. This is where my time as a twice weekly migraine sufferer paid off. No, that kind doesn't work, no that one makes me naseaus, no, that one won't do anything for me. I recignized the look she gave me, it's the one I would always get in the ER back in the day. It's the "Are you a junkie?" look. I get that it looks suspicious but spend enough time in pain and you learn what works for you.

Actually getting the presscription into my hand was an adventure in itself. First I had to go to the lab to get blood drawn. Their computer system was down so they were reduced to comminucating via a system of hand gestures, grunts and post it notes. At one point the person drawing my blood said "And what tests are we running on this?" I guess my post it note fell off my folder and no one really knew why they needed blood from me. Wheeeee!

Once my blood was drawn (I'm betting no tests were ever done on it) I had to track down a nurse who tracked down another nurse who tracked down yet another nurse to give me my prescription. I went and got it filled and I've pretty much been in bed ever since. Until I came downstairs to write this that is. It takes more than a little head pain and a near fall down the stairs to keep me from my bitching and whining blogging. Hope everyone is doing well and I swear that one of these days I'm going to catch up on my blog reading.

The medication game

Urgh. Medication is so frustrating. We were trying something new out with Joseph to help him with his anxiety and it has become very clear that it's not working for him. It was causing some strange behaviors that he couldn't really seem to control. He spent a good part of our Thanksgiving family get together crawling around on the floor looking for little bits of dirt and debris. Why? Who knows, he couldn't explain it. And when we asked him (over and over) not to do it he would say "Ok!" and then be back on the floor within two minutes.

It hurts to see your child acting "odd". It especialy hurts if he's acting that way as a result of a choice you made. We put Joseph on the medication to try and help him but it obviously didn't work and in fact made things worse. When we have setbacks like this it makes me want to give up on ever finding the right meds cocktail for him.

I swear that I'm not trying to make him "normal" with meds. I just want to make things better for him, make it easier for him do cope with day to day life. But days like yesterday make me wonder if I'm doing more harm that good.

I just want my boy to be happy. Why does it have to be so flipping hard?

The medication question

Joseph is on medication. That's not something I say very often because the fact is that I'm not totally comfortable with it. Back when I was young and had no kids (and therefor knew everything there was to know about parenting) I felt very strongly that kids in this country are way over-medicated. In fact, I still feel that way. I think that a lot of time people want to use a pill to solve behavior problems that could have been handled other ways. That's not to say that I don't think medication is a valid option, it's just that I think some parents are looking for a quick fix and some doctors are all too happy to oblige.

I try to tell myself that I am not one of those quick fix parents. I know that we have explored other options with Joseph and that none of them have worked. I know that I have put a ton of thought and research and questioning into deciding to medicate him. I still struggle all the time, asking myself if he's on the right medication, the right dosage, if he should even be on it at all.

Joseph is on two different ADHD medications. He doesn't have ADHD but for him Asperger's has manifested itself in some very ADHD-like behaviors. Without his medication he can't focus, he often doesn't seem to hear us when we talk to him, he has huge melt-downs over little issues, he uses gibberish talk, he engages in repetitive behavior and he just generally seems like he's not the same kid as he does when he's on medication.

Sometimes I ask myself if we medicate Joseph so that's easier for us to deal with. Well, yes. I suppose that's part of the reason. Every morning before Joseph's fast acting medication kicks in, Jesse and I have a horrid time dealing with him. The time between when he wakes up and when his medication kicks in are some of the hardest times we have with him. Just the simple tasks of getting him fed and dressed for school become complicated and difficult and draining. Some mornings (like today) I feel ready to cry by the time he leaves for school. He's that hard to deal with. I can't imagine sending him out into the world like that without some help.

And that's the big reason, the main reason we medicate Joseph. It's not so that the world has an easier time dealing with him, it's so that he has an easier time dealing with the world. Doesn't he deserve to be able to listen to and follow simple directions from his teacher? Doesn't he deserve to be able to have a give and take conversation with one of his classmates without dissolving into silly nonsense talk? Doesn't he deserve to be able to sit in the lunch room and see someone eating a food he really doesn't like and not have it send him into a giant melt-down? (And no, it's not all about school, those are just the examples that popped into my head.) Doesn't he deserve all those things that other kids get to enjoy? And if medication is the way to get him those things, is it really so bad?

So why is it that I can tell myself all these things and know all these things in my head but then still not feel them in my heart? Why do I question it so much? Why do I worry and wonder and struggle? Why can't I be ok with it?

The pharmacist took my thumbs Johnny!

This evening I stopped of at the pharmacy to pick up my prescription refill for my anti-nausea meds. Yes, the medication that will likely maim and destroy the child I'm carrying. Since I went through the drive-through I had to use the little box to pass stuff back and forth. For some reason those boxes make mer nervous. I think it's because the first time I ever tried to use one was at the bank and I didn't know that the teller opened them from the inside so I pulled up and tried to pull on the box to open it and the teller yelled at me and he was a really hot guy and I was mortified and I didn't use the drive-through for like 8 months after that.

Aaaaaanyway. So I pull up to the window and the pharmacist opens the little box for me. I go to stick the prescription in and before I have have my hand halfway out he slams the box shut. I yelped a little bit. A moment later he opens the box again and sends out a little slip for me to sign saying I got the meds. I sign it and put it back in the box and again he slams it shut before my hand is all the way out. I make a little joke. "Heh heh, nearly got my finger there." Ok, so it wasn't a "good" joke or a "funny" joke or even really a "joke". Let's see you be light hearted after nearly losing 3 fingers in a tragic box accident.

One minute later he opens the little box again so that I can send my check card through. I put it in as quickly as I can but it makes no difference. He nearly gets my damn fingers again. I'm starting to think this is some kind of game for him.

He opens the box a final time to send out my meds. I swear to god that the bag is jammed as far back in the corner away from me as it can possibly be. I eye the meds. I'm going to have to shove my entire arm in there to reach them. A cold sweat breaks out on my brow. My heart is pounding. I wonder if I'll ever be able to hug my babies with both arms again. I wonder if I should change the name of my blog to Problem Stumpy. I take a deep breath and make a mad grab for the meds. My hand is in! I've got them! Almost as if it's happening in slow motion I see my arm moving back and hear the click of the box as it starts to close. With a mighty effort I yank my arm back as quickly as I can ...... and bonk myself in the nose with my own hand.

As I start to pull away the pharmacist smiles, waves and wishes me a good evening. I have my meds but at what cost? Will I ever be able to trust a pharmacist again knowing that this one is out there waiting to rob me of my fingers and my dignity? Ok, so I robbed myself of my own dignity with the whole nose bonking business. It was still traumatic ok?

Happy days

I spoke to both of the guys yesterday and they are just thrilled. They're really, really happy. Each of them thanked me about a dozen times. I felt funny saying "You're welcome!" in a situation like this so I just thanked them in return for letting me be a part in this. They both kept asking if there was anything they could do or if there was anything I needed. I told them that unless they could give me a few extra hours of sleep at night there really wasn't much I thought I needed. Anyway, we're all very happy and excited and it's good to be official.

My meds change a little bit now. My medication for this week will be:
7 giant prenatal vitamins
7 shots of progesterone (No longer in an oil base!)
3 shots of delestrogen
14 progesterone vaginal suppositories
7 estrace pills

My butt is so sore and lumpy and black and blue. Thank goodness that some of the meds will end on July 16th and the rest on July 30th. There's an end in sight! It's all good.

My vagina makes glitter, what's your super power?

I do not like my new shots. The injection sites are sore as a son of a gun. They make me crabby and give me a huge headache. I'm an emotional wreck right now. I just found out that the hormone in this shot is the same as the one in the birth control pills that made me so nuts. Yipee!

This week I will have to take:
7 giant prenatal vitamins
7 intramuscular injections of progesterone
2 intramuscular injections of delestrogen
5 progesterone vaginal supposatories
1 partridge in a pear tree

Funny thing about the supposatories that I have to take. They say that one of the side effects is a "silvery discharge". Soon I shall have the lovliest, shiniest female parts in all the land.

Zzzzzzzz....

I was throwing away a used needle and I glanced in the SHARPS box and this is what I saw. Jesse laughed at me for taking this picture but I thought it looked neat.

So far I've been really lucky as far as side effects from the shots. They haven't made me crabby or sick or too terribly headachy. After what I went through with the birth control pills I was really worried. So far, so good.

The only side effect that I'm really starting to notice (aside from some bloating) is that I am flipping tired. I'm not sleeping but my body is just worn out. It's a huge effort to get off the couch at night and go to bed. It's a battle to get anything done around the house because I just have zero energy. We're not even having the garage sale again this weekend because I was just too beat to get anything done. I'm going to try to get more done this weekend so that we're ready for the city wide garage sale next week. We'll see how that goes though because the more shots I take, the more worn out I get. I don't mean to complain though. I really am glad that this has all gone so smoothly.

I got a call from my agency today that June 7th is pretty firm for the transfer. The egg donor is having the retrival done this Saturday. Then I'll fly out for the transfer on the 6th and have the actual transfer of the 5 day old embryos on the 7th. I'll have some bed rest and then come home late on the 8th.

As long as nothing happens with the ED or I in between then, all systems are go. I have another ultrasound tomorrow so I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a nice, thick lining. I'm hopeful that the bloating I'm feeling is a good sign.

The bad news is that I'll have to miss Joseph's last day of school and the city kiddie parade. That makes me sad. I don't like to miss out on things that my kids are doing. I'll have to make it up to them and take them to Disney World when this is all done.

Oh, one more thing. It's crazy how much this whole surrogacy is going to cost. I just got a bill in the mail today for the ultrasound I had a few days ago. (The agency pays for it but we have to send them the bill.) $283 for a 5 minute ultrasound! I can't wait to see what the blood work I had done will cost. It's crazy, crazy!

My ass isn't lumpy at all!

I mean, it is but only in it's usual lumpy way. Not in a oily, lumpy way. Sweet!

I woke up with a slight headache this morning but otherwise I'm feeling fine. I was warned about how these shots can make you nuts but for right now I feel pretty good. Maybe it's because I've only had one so far. Maybe I'll just be one of the lucky ones who isn't bothered by the hormones. I know that's what Jesse's praying for.
No, that is not the skin of a diseased beluga whale. That is my ass. I would like to point out that this is an extreme close up of a very tiny area of my rear. It's not all that pale and splotchy. The rest is tanned and toned but I didn't want to be a showoff and put a picture of the whole thing up. Also, I fear that not even the internet is large enough to contain the magnifcence of my backside.

Now I can't help but laugh when I think of how sad the googlers will be when they come here looking for pictures of butts and that's what they find.

Gimme your best shot

The first shot, she is done. And it really wasn't all that bad. I sat on a package of frozen spinach (none of them high falutine ice packs for us) for a few minutes first to numb the area. Then I got the medication ready, laid down on the couch and got myself ready. Jesse cleaned the area and then asked me (many, many, many times) "Right here? Like this? All the way in? All the way in? To the blue part? You're sure? Like, fast or slow? Wait, right here?" I turned away and concentrated very hard on reading my book.

Then he did it and I got all hot and sweaty and felt like I was going to pass out. But it really didn't even hurt that much. It was more the worry of how it would feel than anything. But it was ok. We did it! And next time I'll probably even watch.

Now I'm sitting with the heating pad on my hinder. It's supposed to help the oil ditribute easier so that it doesn't make a big lump under my skin. We'll see if that works out.

The best possible outcome

Woohoo!

Can you guess what the RE's office told me when they called? I can start my meds tonight. Most likely this little snag will not even set the transfer date back at all. It seems like the birth control pills just weren't doing as good of a job as they should have from preventing my uterine lining from building up. Now that I've started my period and the blood tests show that my hormone levels are normal we can get started on injections.

I'm excited!

Sweet fancy Moses

My meds came today.


See those bags on the left and the right there? Know what those are? Bags of needles. And I am now the proud owner of my very own SHARPS container. Oh my god, what have I gotten myself into here?

Taking Zicam while breastfeeding

OK, I get like 3 or 4 hits a day from people looking to find out if it's ok to take Zcam while you are nursing. And the answer is:

Don't. In fact, don't take any medication while you are nursing unless you have talked to your doctor about it first. Pretty much every medication you can take will make it's way into your breastmilk find out from your doctor if it's ok or not.

And please, please, please talk to a medical proffesional about this type of thing. Don't rely on stangers on the internet to give you important information about stuff like this because most of the time they won't know what they're talking about. Thank you.

The meltdown

We are in the aftermath of a HUGE Joseph meltdown right now. There was spitting and pinching and hitting and kicking. It's like he just lost control and became a totally different kid. I'm at a loss here.

A while back we put him on some medication to try and help with some of his repetative behavior. It seemed to be helping but now I'm worried that the medication is causing some of the tantrums and meltdowns that he's been having. I just talked to a doctor yesterday who suggested splitting his dosage up and giving him half in the morning and half at night. I agreed to give it a try but right now I'm 2 seconds away from tossing all his medication in the trash.

The most frustrating part of all of this is not knowing what's causing all of this. Is it the medication? Is it the Aspergers? Is it just Joseph being a brat? Is he just going through a rough patch because he's nervous about school?

And now he's back to his usual happy self. He's playing so cute with Elle and she's just laughing and loving it. He's such a great kid usually so it's so hard to see him going through this. Augh! Frustrating!

And I'm sure that none of my frustration is caused by the fact that Jesse is at a fantasy football drafting, beer drinking, video game playing, movie watching weekend with his friends and I'm here dealing with this alone. No, I'm sure that's not it.