(No Longer New) Midlife Mommy

I Don't Know Why I Ever Get My Hopes Up

Ten days post transfer -- negative. 

Yeah, yeah.  There's still a chance. 

Riiiiiight.  Though I'll still be testing, I won't be holding my breath.

I really thought it would work this time.

The Plague

I am exhausted.  Good sign, right?  Well, it's probably just because of the day I had.  In addition to the usual errand runs that we do until we drop (because Saturday is the only day to do them), we started out the day in a very tiring way.

Our county health department ran an H1N1 vaccination program today.  It was scheduled to run from 9:00 to 5:00.  I knew that they would have around 10,000 doses, but I thought we should get a jump on things by getting there an hour before the start.  My husband suggested that was probably overkill and we could show up about a half an our early.

We were both wrong.  Holy cow.  There were people who spent part of the night there (are you effing kidding me?).  TEN THOUSAND DOSES PEOPLE.  I don't think you need to sleep in the cold to be first. 

I swear, it seemed like a thousand people were in line ahead of us, though it was probably closer to five hundred.  It was freaking amazing.  At one point, we were told that they had opened up a line for people who had pre-registered.  Since I'd done that, we probably cut an hour off our time standing in the cold.  That was probably an unfair thing to do, because at some point, they took down the link that allowed people to pre-register on the county website, and pre-registration wasn't advertised to begin with.  Still, it probably took us two and a half hours from start to finish.  I was vaccinated (I have asthma), and my daughter was vaccinated (she was delighted to receive FluMist for the first time).  My husband declined at this point, because he is healthy without any underlying medical conditions that have been identified as problematic, though once it's opened up to all, he will do it as well.

I know that vaccines are a touchy issue, and everyone needs to make his or her own decision regarding what's best.  From what I understand about this vaccine, it was manufactured using tried and true methods -- by an old-fashioned production process using chicken eggs.  I used to work for a company that made flu vaccines, and it is a fascinating process.  I understand the issues surrounding the preservative and the adjuvant.  For more reasons than I would bore anyone with, I was comfortable vaccinating my daughter and myself (and would be comfortable if anyone else in my family received the vaccine).

Mind f*ck

I sometimes rub my hands gently on my abdomen.  Wondering.  Am I caressing a spark of life, too small to see?  Or is it just emptiness?

Sometimes, I feel a twinge, and I think - implantation?  Or just a twinge.  Of nothing, really.  All in my head.

My uterus feels achy sometimes.  Echos of my pregnancy with DD.  A spark of hope flashes into my thoughts.  But, it could just as easily be the progesterone and estrogen that I faithfully take.

I look at the picture of those beautiful embryos and wonder how they're doing.  Are they living?  Or have they disappeared into nothingness?

I hope, thinking that if I don't, then I'm somehow affecting the outcome.  Absurd.

And then, my mood swings the other way.  Expecting another bad result.  Why not?  They're all bad results lately.  And then I worry that somehow that will affect the outcome.  And so I force my thoughts elsewhere.

Sometimes, I wonder why we have the audacity to tread in God's territory.  How dare we?  How dare I?  Creating life is a mystery still.  Even to the doctors, who can do everything except promise implantation.

And then, I think that I'm thinking too much.  And so I stop thinking for a little while.  But just for a little while.

F*ck you, two week wait.

Welcome Aboard

And here they are:

Kind of tired still, probably from the Valium and the avoidance of caffeine today.

We started out with five embryos:  one straw of one, and two straws of two.  I don't know if I mentioned how angry I was that the embryologist chose to freeze that one embryo alone, particularly since my doctor said that it is harder for a single embryo to survive.  When I asked about it, she said that "it just felt right to her to do it."  Surprise -- it didn't survive.  But the next straw of two did, leaving one more straw of two.

We had a special treat today.  They had the monitor on in the transfer room, so we got to see the embryos being drawn up into the syringe, and then again when the syringe was examined to see if they were still inside.

Official pregnancy test on Halloween of all days -- Trick or Treat.  Of course, I will be testing on my own well before that.  It has always made me feel more in control of my destiny that way for some odd reason.

Eh (Can't Think Of A Title)

Two burning questions:

Why do I always feel like I have to go to the bathroom the instant I step into the shower, even if I've just gone minutes before?

Why can I part my hair and think that it's just fine, look away for a moment, and OMG, see a totally f'd up part?

Two recent DDisms:

"Mommy, you just don't understand how my brain works. I know, just by looking at something, that I'm not going to like it. So you can stop asking me to try new foods, OK?"

DD recently advised us that when she's a teenager, she will be queen of the house and will be telling us what to do (apparently, she's dissatisfied with the current arrangement). Dream on, sister.

And an update:

Evil, evil Estrace.  Need I say more?  Feel like I'm too fat to breathe.  Taking six tablets a day.  Ugh.

Transfer on Monday, 10/19.  At least I hope and pray there is a transfer on Monday.  Can't help but think what happened the last time I had five frozen embryos.  If you are the praying type, please say one for us. 

Life Lessons

I remember my mother telling me, as I was sniffing my little baby's head, that letting your child go is one of the hardest things a mother will ever do.  Watching them go off to school, starting a life that includes more time with others than with you, and knowing that there will be heartache and hard life lessons.  Yet, there is nothing that you can do to protect that child from those hurts, because she needs to find her own way. 

My mother often said things like this during the last couple years of her life.  She knew that she didn't have much time to be with us, and she tried to squeeze in enough mothering advice to last a lifetime.  I have a good memory, and all those comments have been filed away.  They always seem to come back to me when I need them.

It's so much harder to get a glimpse into day to day school life now.  School starts at 9:00 and ends at 3:00.  Aftercare lasts until 6:00, and I usually only see the aftercare ladies when I pick DD up at the end of the day (DH does the drop off).  There are no daily reports to fill in the blanks.  Good, bad, or indifferent, we just don't know what's going on, though presumably, if there were issues, we would know about them.  But, since I know that DD has a soft spot for snuggling (so do I!), I've made a deal with her -- I will snuggle with her at bedtime as long as she talks about school.  No matter how mundane, I'm all ears. 

I've learned that there is a girl, "I", who sounds like a little snot, based on what DD has been telling me in the evenings.  DD pointed out a girl to me when we were out on an errand and said, "look mommy, that girl looks just like "I"!"  Based on that, I can tell you that she's pretty, with long blond hair and blue eyes.  This is probably unfair, but that is precisely how I imagined her.  Spoiled, pretty, and blond.

So far, based on the scraps that I've heard, "I" told DD that DD would not be invited to her birthday party, because she just wasn't on the list (the tone, imitated by DD, was snarky).  Understand that DD came from a world where generally speaking, all of the kids in the class were invited to parties, or at least all of the same gender in the class were invited to parties (depending on the theme).  It wasn't a school rule; it was just what we did.  And, had the little boy who'd caused so much trouble not been moved to another classroom before DD's birthday party, we would have invited him and crossed our fingers that he wouldn't act out at the party.

DD found "I's" comments puzzling.  I asked her why she thought "I" had said that, and she said that "I" also told everyone that she was only inviting the four year olds to her party ("I" will be 5 on her birthday).  DD thought that maybe if she hadn't told "I" that she was already 5, she would have surely been invited to the party.  I probed a bit and asked if she really thought that was the reason.  DD wasn't sure.  I asked if she and "I" were friends, and she said that they weren't -- "but mommy, if she just got to know me, I'm sure she would like me."  Pure, sweet, simple heart.  I told her that maybe that was true, but she needed to understand that not everyone in the world will like her, and that was OK, just as it was OK for DD not to like everyone she meets.  DD seemed convinced that "I" would like her eventually.

Since then, a couple things have happened, though there may be more things that I don't know about.  DD and another girl were talking to each other, and "I" said that she was going to tell the teacher that they were being mean to her (DD denied this and said that they weren't even talking to "I").  "I" did as promised, and the teacher came over and told DD and her friend that they shouldn't be mean to others.  Undaunted, and finding herself in line behind "I" on another day, DD complimented her hair ribbon.  To her credit, "I" said thanks. 

This evening, DD told me that when she sat down next to "I" today, "I" deliberately got up and sat on the other side of the person she had been sitting next to before DD sat down.  It was clearly an insult. I gently suggested, again, that perhaps DD might want to ignore "I," since she seemed like a rude little girl who clearly did not want to be DD's friend.  DD responded by telling me she was tired and didn't want to talk anymore.  And my mother's words echoed back to me, counseling me to let go, let go, let go.

But then, to my surprise, DD rolled back over and said, "mommy, don't worry.  I don't let her hurt my heart."

Ah, smart cookie.  Very smart.