You know what is boring?
Someone who is trying to get pregnant who is not actually actively trying to get pregnant.
The colitis is calming down, now that I am taking all my colitis medicine (supplementing with extra folic acid, of course) and not taking my baby aspirin. I have had to cut out coffee and cut down in the dairy, but I think I caught this before it got out of control. I hope, at least.
Mr. MC is doing better everyday, and had his stitches taken out Thursday. He is weening off the pain medicine, and hopes to be back at work next week. The RE’s nurse, when asked about Mr. MC’s pain-killer and anesthesia, was not concerned as long as they were not “radioactive.” You mean radioactive substances are not good while trying to conceive? Well, I’ll be damned. You learn something every day.
I am also reminded that the two-week-wait is nothing when there is no chance you could be pregnant. I am at 10dpo and I am just waiting for the PMS craziness to set it instead of obsessing over negative pregnancy tests. The tww is just a serious mind-fuck.
The other good news is that if you are not pregnant, you can’t have another miscarriage.
“Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.”
— Sir Walter Scott
“Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we fail to conceive.”
The hospital where my husband is an inpatient plays the opening measures of Brahm’s lullaby everytime a new baby is born. I assume this is to make people feel warm and fuzzy. If the rate of Brahm’s music is any indication, the town where I live is experiencing a population explosion.
What other people must think: “Awww… a new baby was just born” or “How sweet, another little person entered this world.”
What I hear: “Ha! Ha! Some drug addicted teen-age mother just gave birth to her third healthy child! Ha! Ha! You never got past 10 weeks! Ha! Ha! Both your embryos died in the first trimester.”
I hate Brahms.
I just spent $430 at the emergency vet because one of my cats was pooping blood. They did blood work, which will not come back until Tuesday, and X-rays, and they think she either has a nervous stomach or she just passed a big hairball.
I left the vet at 1:00 AM.
When I got home, I opened the door to the worst. smell. ever. My dog, probably due to anxiety, had diarrhea all over the dining room.
It is now 1:14AM and I have every candle I own and two sticks of incense burning. The front door is wide open. I can not go to bed with a house this stinky.
I now have to go give my cat her pill with a huge plunger so she doesn’t bite me, because she is really pissed.
My husband is still in the hospital.
And I have freakin’ ovulation pains so bad it hurts to stand up straight.
Update: The dog got me up every hour on the hour to go outside and poop. He had awful diarrhea all night. It finally settled down about 6AM, when he let me sleep for an hour and a half. At 7:30AM he woke me up by puking on the bed.
Second Update: Yeah, I am a little stressed out. Does my body register this? I guess not. I got the most positive OPK today that I have ever seen.
Third Update: Mr. MC still has a leak in his lung and may have sprung a new one. He is pretty miserable. He probably can’t come home until at least Thursday. Ugh.
Mr. MC had to have surgery today to fix his lung because it continued to “leak.” The operation was a success, but his oxygen stats did not improve to the recovery room nurse’s liking, so he is being very closely monitored overnight in the recovery room (there are not extra beds in the ICU). In the morning, they will decide if he needs to go to the ICU or if he can go back to a floor room.
Sunday they will try to take the chest-tube out and X-ray the lung again to ensure that it stays inflated. Best case scenario: he comes home by late Sunday or early Monday. Then he will be at home for at least a week while everything heals and he weans off the pain medicine. He had a spontaneous pneumorthorax, which is a congenital defect.
It turns out I have a “frayed nerve” (I can’t remember the medical term right now) because two of my neck vertebrae are pressing together or I have a bone spur or something fun like that. I found this out on Thursday and Mr. MC was already in the hospital, so I was only half-listening to the diagnosis. It really hurts. I just took a left-over Tylenol with codeine from miscarriage #2 that will hopefully allow me to sleep. I am just dealing because we can only handle one medical problem at a time and it is not my turn yet.
Oh, and I am “highly fertile” right now according to my Ovusoft. I think jumping my husband in the hospital while he is doped up on morphine is in very, very poor taste.
The trick to completely forget about miscarriage/pregnancy/infertility is to have your spouse develop a potentially life-threatening medical condition like, to pick a completely random example, a collapsed right lung.
Mr. MC went to our local urgent care thinking he had asthma, or at the very worst, pneumonia. He had a pneumothorax. They have reinflated it via a chest tube, but it continues to leak. If it has not completely healed by Friday, he will have surgery to manually repair it.
He has been an inpatient since about 3AM on Tuesday.
It is really awful to watch someone that you love suffer.
ArtSweet and Pili moved today. And they took Pepito with them.
I am very, very sad.
And my shoulder/neck still hurts. I am so excited to see the doctor tomorrow at 4:45.
But mostly I am sad that the town where we live is now lacking two fabulous women and one awesome Guadababy.
And this town could really use more fabulous and awesome people.
It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, it is that I am in a lot of pain and that makes me want to take my pain medicine and do nothing all day.
I have pulled something in my left neck/shoulder and sitting and typing are quite possibly the worst things for it. Thank goodness I had a few pain killers left over from miscarriage #2. They are coming in very handy.
So instead of just bitching about that, I am just not writing anything more until I can write something aside from bitching about pain. Even I am tired of listening to myself complain.
Halle Berry is 41 and 3 months pregnant. J-Lo is rumored to also be pregnant.
Nichole Kidman had two miscarriages: one when she was 23 and another in 2001, when she was 34.
Paris Hilton: “I want kids next year, so I’ve got to get my body ready.”
There are so many snarky things to say about Paris Hilton, I literally don’t know where to begin. Perhaps after my glass(es) of wine tonight, I will write some of them down.