A Bitchy Conversation

June 15, 2012

So. The jury is still out. As expected. Today’s OPK was darker than last night’s. But lighter than yesterday midday. So EITHER last night’s stick was faulty OR we’re in the same game as usual.
Which goes something like this:

CD1-12
FSH: Yo, Ovaries! What’s up?
Ovaries: zzzzzzzz
FSH: Um… hello? Am I talking to myself? Let me raise the volume so you can hear me.
Ovaries: zzzzz…Is someone calling us?…zzzzzz
FSH: Wake the fuck up!
Ovaries-Lefty:zzzz…What? Huh? Hey Righty, why don’t you answer that?…zzzzz
Ovaries-Righty: zzzz… What? Why should I? YOU answer it. I’m tired…zzzzz
FSH: Will somebody please answer the fucking phone!?!?!?!
Righty: zzzz… Meh. OK, FSH, calm down. Don’t get your panties in a wad. I’ll work on it.
Lefty: zzz…Wonderful. I’m going back to sleep…zzzz
FSH: Finally! You some lazy ass bitches down there!

CD12-21ish

LH: Knock, knock.
Righty: lalalalalalala I can’t hear anything.
LH: Hey Righty, what’s going on?
Righty: I’m making eggs right now, come back later.
LH: Hhmmm… But I want some eggs.
Righty: So?
LH: Like, right now.
Righty: Sorry, you can’t have any. They’re not ready yet.
LH: What the fuck is taking so long?
Righty: Hey LH, Imma let you finish and all but right now… STFU! I said LATER!
LH: *sniffle* OK, I’ll come back later. *slinks off crying*

CD18ish-23ish

LH: I’m baaaaaack!
Righty: I’m still cooking.
LH: I don’t give a shit. I came for eggs and I’m getting one.
Righty: Fine. Here. Take this one. It *might* be ready. Hope you don’t get salmonella, asshole.

And this is how my body achieves ovulation. Which is at least better than two years ago when the conversation was more like this:

FSH: Yo, Ovaries! What’s up?
Ovaries: zzzzzzzz
FSH: Um… hello? Am I talking to myself? Let me raise the volume so you can hear me.
Ovaries: zzzzz
FSH: OK, I’m cranking this shit to 11. Or maybe even 16.
Ovaries: zzzzz
FSH: WTF, I give up.
LH: Man, FSH, you give up too easily.
LH: HEY OVARIES!!!!! Trick or Treat?!?!
Ovaries: zzzzzzzz
LH: Trick then. I’m cranking this shit to 300!
Me: Totally think I’m ovulating because OPK says so.
Ovaries: zzzzzzzz
Ovaries: zzzzzzzz
Ovaries: zzzzzzzz
Ovaries: zzzzzzzz
Ovaries: zzzzzzzz
Me: Goddamnit. Time to take the progesterone.

Momz Part 2

May 10, 2010

So. I did it. And I survived. I’m somewhat bruised, but I survived. Fortunately, even though my father was not really much help, one of his friends was around to help me. My counselor had suggested that since Right Guy would be working today and couldn’t be there that I have someone or something planned to help me feel better after talking with Momz. Pops is always hit or miss with his moods these days but he is normally who I would turn to so that was my plan. But he was a bit of a miss today. But two of his friends were over for dinner (it’s a weekly Sunday night get together) and those two are kind of surrogate fathers to me – they helped him raise me. So that was good.

I told her. I pretty much spit out all the facts and waited to see how she would react. Perhaps I should have done it in phases. There are essentially two news items for her to react to: (1)my condition and the health issues and (2) the fact that we are trying to get pregnant. If I knew I wanted her to react to the first item first perhaps I should have held off on the second. But no, I’m a glutton for punishment and I set myself up big time. My bad. I really should know better.

Of course she reacted first to the news that we are actively trying to get pregnant. While not married. That was the VERY FIRST THING out of her mouth “What about marriage?” As if a little thing like a legal document that I don’t even care about matters in this situation. Will a marriage certificate get me pregnant? I don’t think so. Will the few eggs I have left care whether or not we’re married? Doubtful. Will his sperm stop to knock on the egg’s door and request a marriage certificate before entering? Not f*cking likely. Will marriage prevent me from getting osteoperosis? Nope. But I still had to spend about 20 minutes justifying not being married.

And then she asked a strange question. I’m pretty sure it was not idle curiosity. She wanted to know if we were… ahem… doing this at home or were there ‘procedures’ involved. I could be mistaken but I feel fairly confident that she wanted to know whether I was actively sinning by having sex with the man who lives in my house or if we were being good Christians and having my doctor inseminate me with his non-sinful sperm. WTF? Only my mother would ask this in that context. Maybe she just wanted to know what else she needed to pray for. I thought my sinner’s soul was already on that list but maybe she just likes to be specific about WHICH sins to pray for.

You might be wondering how many of my predictions came true? Let’s see….

1pt – She did indeed tell me about all 3-5 of her miscarriages (2 of them she’s not sure about because there was no confirmed pregnancy). Mercifully not for a full hour.
0pt – She did not make any hot flash jokes.
1/2pt – I don’t think she knows anyone with osteoperosis. But she did mention her sister and how hunched she is these days. And how she is now taller than her sister because of this (see Tell Me About Your Mother… to find out why height is such an issue) le sigh
0pt – She did not tell me she was happy that I was trying and although she did refrain from Bible lecturing she definitely made an issue of me not being married.
1pt She will indeed be praying for me. Fortunately there was no laying of hands on me in public or private.
1pt – She showed me all of her natural supplements for bone health.
1pt – Make me feel uncomfortable? Check.
1pt – I did get a hug and she did talk about herself for an hour.

My score: 5.5/8

What was I most surprised about during this encounter? I should have known. There’s always something that, in retrospect, I feel I should have expected but somehow didn’t see coming. With Premature Ovarian Failure sometimes there are known causes. Chemotherapy and genetic disorders top the list for causes. And then there are other things that are not direct causes but are often found as co-conspirators so to speak. That list consists mainly of auto-immune disorders and heredity. My RE has pretty much ruled out everything in my case- including heredity. My RE ruled out heredity because I had told her that my mother went through menopause at the normal time – sometime around age 50, maybe a year or two earlier. Which is true. And completely normal.

I know this because I distinctly remember being in a mall with Momz when I was 16 (which would make her about 49) and she was fanning herself with her hands and in general making quite a spectacle of herself. There was nothing discrete about it. In fact, she even explained herself to the female employee working the jewelry kiosk. “It’s menopause. I’m having a hot flash.” I was mortified. I was 16. What other reaction could I have possibly had at that age? It is etched in my brain. And every time I have a hot flash in public I remember it. Because I refuse to be her. And honestly, the hot flashes do SUCK. But I have never felt the need to engage in histrionics while I’m having one – in public OR in private. Strip naked and stand in front of the AC vent in my own house? Yes. Wave my hands about wildly? No. This story is really hysterical when I tell it in person and can imitate her.

So when she asked if it could be hereditary because she had gone through menopause early I was a bit mystified. And she wasn’t asking this in a “OMG, I’m sorry, could I have done this to you by passing along bad genes?” sort of way. It was more of a “OMG, maybe I have this condition too and they just didn’t know about it back then!” sort of way. She sounded almost… excited. All. About. Her. Always.

Anyway, I survived. It could have been much much worse. And I no longer have to pretend everything is wonderful if I don’t feel like pretending. So I’ll just have another glass of wine and put this Mother’s Day to bed.