Marge, I'm still waiting!!!!

Still haven't started my period, or as Marge puts it "my bleed". I swear that woman creeps me out. She told me I should start in a week after my progesterone shot(s). I had to put the dose in two syringes because of the large volume. I tried to explain to Marge that the shot goes into my butt and I am certain it is large enough to handle it all in one syringe but she advised against that. She told me to call last Friday if I had not started and when I did call large Marge tells me "these things take time", like she is bothered that I am calling her. I can not wait to call her this Friday with the news I still have not started. I would not be surprised if that woman sent me and my small ovaries into menopause. It is quite possible that the medication she gave me was not progesterone but pancake syrup which is about the same consistency. That would explain why I haven't started "my bleed", and why my shorts are too tight.

All the shots I had been taking made me grow a mustache, it was so thick the Asian woman who gave me my pedicure asked me if I needed a wax. I didn't even know they did waxing at the nail salon. I wonder what other services they offer, I was afraid to ask. Maybe they offer infertility treatments, I will have to ask next time I'm in, if they can do a pedicure for $18 I can't imagine what kind of deals they offer on IVF. I bet they would even throw the waxing in for free.

Naming Rights

Although this is definitely getting WAY ahead of ourselves, in response to the last post, I just thought I would share the names Angie has been throwing around. The front runners seem to be Angela, Jr. for a girl (of course) and D'angelo for a boy... yeah. The latter will always remind me of this picture from his (in)famous music video, or maybe this more recent picture, neither of which are really images that should come to mind when thinking about your possible future son, ya think? MAYBE she will get to pick a middle name, but I am reserving a veto right. I am in the process of reviewing our surrogacy contract-- yep, the clinic is requiring one of those-- so maybe I should reduce this to writing.

Damn it Marge, say it ain't so!

After 26 subq injections (shots that go into the fat of my belly), 5 vaginal sonograms (assaults with a wand that I would rather not explain), 7 blood draws (at least the technician had skills) and numerous days of taking my birth control pills at exactly 7pm (I tend to be a little anal), Marge calls to tell me I have failed. I am very disappointed but I have decided not to blame myself but to blame Marge. Now I guess I will have to wait until the end of August or beginning of September to start again because the clinic is overrun with infertile people trying to get pregnant next month. Its hard being infertile.

I am pretty sure that my sister wants me to do this not because I am the only one dumb enough to shoot myself millions of times to have a baby for someone else, but because she knows how impatient I am and wants to share some of the torture she has been through with some else. I am definitely getting to name this baby.

The Ovary Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

I think the saying is something like that, right?

Just like their owner, Angie's ovaries seem to like to defy authority and don't want to suppress. So, our cycle has been postponed two, and now possibly three weeks. We are waiting for our nurse to consult with the RE and we will find out tomorrow. I don't mind because all I am doing is continuing birth control pills, but I just feel sorry for Angie because every week we are postponed is another week of Lupron shots.

She claims that the Lupron really hasn't been affecting her, but I remember when I was on it after awhile it made me feel really aggressive. Yes, I have cautioned Greg that he might want to seek temporary lodging elsewhere until this part of the cycle is over.

Be Careful What You Offer

Someone may just take you up on it.

My sister saved my life. I have no idea how I would have made it through the first few days after Fletcher's birth without my sister Angie. She was my own private nurse and, okay, I'll say it, angel. During the high emotions of the situation surrounding my decline in health and eventual delivery of my first son 15 weeks early, Angie even went as far as offering to carry my next child. I wonder if, at the time, she thought I would take her up on it.

Well, I did.

We are about to embark on an IVF/Gestational Carrier cycle and I thought I would put together this blog, with entries from both Angie and me, to chronicle what will be a weird and hopefully (at least 10 month) long endeavor.