Flygirl moves on.

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{ butterflygirl.wordyblog.com }

The Time Has Come

Today, I need to keep busy.
Else I might lose my mind.
I'm doing okay.
Thanks to some talking off of the ledge by Leenie and Musey.
Those girls keep me together some days.

Anyway!
I've imported my archives and all your lovely comments
and
I'm as ready as I'll ever be to make the move.

Why does change scare the hell out of me so much?

I was wondering how to go about this.
I was going to make anyone who was interested ask for my new addy.
But that seems like a whole lotta work for the sole reason of wanting to know if I have any lurkers.

So do me a favour will ya?
Follow me on over to wordyblog.
Update your links and bookmarks.
And please please please drop me a comment or an email to let me know you're there.
Soon I'll add in some code that will direct any hits to wordyblog anyway.

And thanks for following me on the ride that is my life.

Click Here.

livid

I am shaking.
I feel sick.
I am angry.

My fertility clinic has royally fucked me over. I’ve been waiting for a phone call from them since May 30. I was biding my time, trying not to overreact but when they still hadn’t called as of last week I started to make my own phone calls.

After repeated and increasingly frustrated messages, I finally got a call back this morning. Don’t ya know they can’t book me in until July 10th and that’s the soonest they have so I’d better deal with it. Well July 10th puts me into my next cycle which means that because of their fuck up I have to wait another month for my IUI.

The only reason that I even got a call back at this point was because I was making a general nuisance of myself and my RE’s admin personally went to them to find out why I hadn’t been contacted. If not for her, I’d still be waiting.

I am so upset that I don’t know what do to with myself. Do I make a big stink about it when these people hold my future in their hands? Do I bite my tongue and deal with it?

I don’t know what to fucking do but I cannot concentrate on anything else. Don’t they know they are fucking with my LIFE????? How can people who are trained to deal with infertility possibly be so callous? A single month to an IFer is an eternity and signifies another month lost and another month older.

I called my admin and left her a message. There’s nothing she can do about it but I just felt the need to tell someone how I felt. I also emailed the clinic manager to outline my “concerns” and issues with the events of the past month. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it while I’m so upset but I just don’t know what else to do with myself.

I can barely keep myself together today and I have to try. My coworkers know something’s going on and I hate to contribute to their nosiness. It’s only a matter of time (minutes maybe) before they start asking questions.

How am I going to get through the rest of the day?

Do you see it?

A Butterfly for Butterfly.

Today my Daddy posted this photo (taken in Arizona) on his Flickr site. This was the caption:

This was taken for you, girl. Like this one, you are a rock!

Can you see the butterfly wings? My Daddy rocks.

I guess that's why they call it the blues

Feeling a little blue today. My eyelids are heavy. My forehead creased. Just lotsa shit going on in my head these days.

Friday’s post garnered some interesting feedback. New commenters and lurkers came out of the woodwork and all had something valuable to say. I appreciate all the “2 cents” that I was given.

Frenchie and I will be okay. Of that I’m sure so no worries on that front. I am prone to frustration though so I may need to air it out every once in a while. :)

One comment on Friday brought me to a full stop. What if, as compatible as Frenchie and I seem to be, our genes are not so compatible and that’s why this isn’t working? Is it possible that if we were with different mates, we would both have kids by now? I guess, that I’ll never know but the thought chills me to the bone.

Anyway.

Here’s my news. I’m working on new digs. I’ve been busy tweaking to my heart’s content (with Ed’s help) and am about ready to make the move. It’s funny but even though Blogger can be hellishly frustrating sometimes, I feel slightly panicked about moving. It’s hard to leave what you know isn’t it? But the security is good and the fact that I can password protect is valuable. The best part is probably my new landlord. Makes a huge difference to have the human touch rather than standard issue replies to my queries and concerns.

So…. stay tuned. I hope that you’ll make the move with me.

{most} Men just don't get it.

And I mean that in the kindest way. I’d like to exclude present company from that statement and I can do that because the ones that don’t get it stopped reading and commenting on my blog ages ago. The ones that have stayed have come to mean the world to me.

I think there are a few reasons that infertility makes so many men uncomfortable and these are my theories only so don’t get mad at me if you don’t agree.

First, I think that talk of infertility in general embarrasses a lot of men. Maybe because they wonder if their own fertility may ever be called into question. Interesting thought that, but I can wonder at it with some certainty because I have had more than one man feel the need to tell me how “super” their sperm is.

I think that the biggest reason IF talk makes men uncomfortable is because they just don’t know what to do with it. Men are “fixers”. If we are hurt they want to fix the reason. If something is broken, they want to fix it.

But it just so happens that men can’t fix what is wrong. It’s a mindfuck ~ to me, as well as my man. The best of intentions won’t fix what’s wrong with me. It’s out of my control and his too.

Frenchie doesn’t understand what I need from him but I think it’s pretty simple. I need him to take this stuff as seriously as I do. And I know this may sound weird but I need it to bother him. I need for him to be as upset as I am when my hopes are dashed over and over again. I need for him to ache like I do, even if it’s only briefly. I need for him to be affected by the constant failure and to feel as panicked as I do about the future.

It sounds terrible. It sounds like I want for him to hurt. And it’s not that, exactly. I just need for him to care as much as me. When I get my period, it brings my world to jarring halt. But not for him. His reaction is usually something along the lines of “well, that’s a bummer.” or “oh… (appropriate pause)…. so what’s for dinner?”

Disappointment, for him, lasts for an instant. For me, if it ever lessens, I’m lucky. What I need is for him to put himself in my shoes. To close his eyes for a minute and imagine how I must be feeling. Or to make that mental leap. Am I having a bad day? Am I particularly weepy or bitchy? Well, wouldn’t it be nice if he could stop and wonder why I might possibly be feeling down?

I don’t mean to talk shit about Frenchie. I’m lucky in him and I know it but ... I still need more from him. I don’t need suggested “solutions”. I don’t need his theories. I just want him to hold my hand, and understand me and hurt with me and for him to get to be as proactive as I’ve been rather than sitting on the sidelines of this battle that I feel I’m waging all on my own.

Infertility is the loneliest place I’ve ever been. But I do want to thank you all for sticking by me. You’ve made a huge difference in my life. I don’t know where I’d be if not for the collective support of my blogger friends. This didn’t start out as a fertility blog but it has kind of turned into one. Thank you for always being there for me.

65 million

We got Frenchies test results today. Wait. I should amend that. HE got his results today. You know what he heard?

blah blah blah..... count is good..... blah blah blah.....motility is good ..... blah blah blah.... morphology could be better..... blah blah blah.... aim for 10%, you have 7%....blah blah.... but it's okay..... won't effect the IUI....blah.

So he calls me and tells me. Okay. Guess what? We already knew most of that stuff (he's had 2 previous tests) but we didn't know that about the morphology (put simply: the shape). So, do you think he would have listened a little more closely to what the doctor had to say?

Nope. It won't effect the IUI and that's all we need to know. Right?

So fucking wrong. I have questions and no answers and now I'm going to have to call the doctor like I'm his damn mother or something to find out the details. I need to know stuff! For instance: What is 10% and what is 7%? 7% of what for crying out loud?!

I wish that for one minute that he could put himself in my shoes. Infertility affects my whole life. There's not a minute that goes by that I don't think about it. But for him it's like a blip on the radar and it's so frustrating.

I love him dearly but if I could have reached through the phone to slap/strangle/pinch him, I would have. Is it control freakish of me to need to know more details? Am I being unreasonable?

He said that he's sure that the doctor said something about the fact that this '7% thing' has not had anything to do with the reason that we haven't conceived. I'm inclined to agree with him but for fuck's sakes, it would be nice to have more details.

Gah!!!!

He drives me crazy.

So, tonight I'm left with this:

He's fine.

I'm fine.

I ovulate.

He's got a count of 65 million.

Why oh why can't one of those 65 million sperm find their way to my egg?

Do I have a hide and seek egg and his sperm are too stupid to look in the right places?

Damned uncooperative things.

an everyday trip to the movies

My life is so exciting. My weekend consisted of taking my Dad out for breakfast, gardening, a walk at a conservation area and going to the movies. Had you told me 10 years ago that I would no longer be partying every weekend, I would have laughed. If you had told me that I’d be tired by midnight on Saturday night I would have shaken my head at your silliness.

But there it is. An exciting outing for me is a trip to the movies.

Although, this was no ordinary trip to the movies. It started out like any other movie going experience. I was excited because the show we picked was X*men 3: The Last Stand. I love the X*men movies (It's got nothing to do with the fact that Hugh J@ckman is one sexy man). Can’t get enough of them and was looking forward to seeing it on the big screen.

So, anyway, the movie had pretty much played out. The resolution was winding up when the screen went blank and the lights came on. WTF? Ushers moved quickly into the theatre and before the rowdy Canadian crowd of moviegoers got out of control (<-read with sarcastic tone) they told us there was “a situation” and that we would all be issued free movie passes and would exit quickly out the side door.

No one would tell us what was going on but more than a little uneasy, we all gathered up our belongings and filed obediently out of the theatre. Apparently a “suspicious suitcase” with “wires sticking out” had been discovered in the courtyard next to the theatre. The whole movie theatre (AMC 24) and the neighbouring pub were evacuated. The bomb squad was called in and they detonated the case. I still haven’t heard whether there was actually any cause for alarm but needless to say it was a sobering experience. (And I should mention that I’m very impressed with how the staff at the AMC handled the situation and at how quickly the police reacted.)

Leaving the theatre, I felt a little freaked out. It was just the reality of the situation that left me feeling uneasy. What if it had been a bomb? I could have been part of a dreadful headline. Can you imagine? 24 busy theatres and 1 very busy pub. It would have made for quite the disaster.

Anyway, even if it was an explosive device, I’m willing to bet that it was very small time. But in the wake of the recent arrests of alleged terrorists in Toronto it was still eye-opening. We Canadians are used to feeling pretty safe but something like this leaves you wondering. What if some looney decided to blow up a theatre or shoot up a restaurant and I happened to be in it.

What if?

Crap

I promise I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. Work is keeping me busy but there are brighter times ahead. After today I should be able to get back into my groove.

If indeed I had a groove to begin with.

It's debatable.

gifts unbought

More and more often I find myself wondering what to write.
Staring at the blank document in front of me
fingers posed over the home row
biting my lip
mind idling.

I wonder why I’m having writer’s block these days.
My mind is busy enough.
My days are full.
But still, nothing.

Maybe I’m going through a mid-blogger-life crises.

Anyway, it’s Father’s Day this weekend.
Although I dearly wish that I was buying Frenchie his first Father’s Day present,
this is nowhere near as hard on me as Mother’s Day was.
I’m looking forward to spending time with my Dad
and
making up for the absence of my sister.

The rift between my parents and my sister grows.
I thought it was getting better for a while but I was wrong.
I don’t talk about her much here.
I love her dearly.
She is one in a million and I’m very close with her.
But I am having an increasingly difficult time
bridging the chasm between her and my parents.

Seeing them in pain, causes me pain.
I wish I could heal them
but I cannot.
All I can do is try to make up for the hurt by being the best daughter I can be.

I guess that whole situation is just one more reason why I take infertility so hard.
I want so much to give them a grandchild.
The fact that I haven’t been able to is like a knife in my heart.
Because they would make the best grandparents.
It seems so unfair that my problem affects them too.
They should have a grandchild to lavish love upon.
To receive happiness and freely given love from.

Is there any day or area of my life that infertility doesn’t affect?
I don’t think so.

Deep in the secret part of my soul and the most protected part of my heart I hope beyond hope that next year I’ll be able to give my parents gifts from their grandchild.

Close Call

Frenchie always makes fun of me because even when driving I’m constantly looking around.
Not much escapes my notice.
My “can’t miss a thing” attitude served me well this morning.
A cute and rather frightened deer bounded in front of my car.
Had I not been looking in that direction, I wouldn’t have stopped in time.

I slammed on the brakes.
My whole body tensed up.
I imagine the deer’s did too.
We looked at each other for a brief moment.
I tooted my horn to scare her back into the bushes and she complied.

My heart pounding, I drove off.
I cannot tell you how torn up I would have been if I’d hit that deer.
I’ve got a connection with them.
I would have been inconsolable.

Now my body is feeling the after effects.
I have neck problems to begin with and this has not been a good week.
My sudden tensing exacerbated matters considerably.
Too bad I can’t get high from the muscle relaxers I’m on.
Cause that would be a good way to spend the day.
:)

(No, it's not snowing in Canada right now. This is one of my favourite pics of my deer friends.)

Figured I'd better post but it's more of a ramble...

I am coffee free today.
That makes hump day hard.
My body has been doing strange things lately and I’m trying to track down the reason why.
Cutting out coffee is kind of my last ditch effort to see if that’s what’s fucking me up.
Can one’s system all of a sudden stop tolerating coffee?
Fucked if I know.
But it makes me blue just to think about it.

I’m drinking tea right now.
With heartfelt apologies to Ed, tea just doesn’t quite cut it.

(insert big pitiful sigh here)

Anyway, thanks to all for your anniversary wishes.
And, yeah, I know I’m lucky.
That Frenchie keeps me grounded and keeps me going.
He’s a good one, is Frenchie.

I wish that every woman could have their own Frenchie.

Big news in my infertility circle.
Our friend Beth has seen a BFP (“big fat positive” for those who don’t know) with her own 2 eyes.
My most heartfelt congratulations go out to her.
It’s gratifying to see someone get good news for a change.

There is still hope after all.
We’re not all doomed to failure and sadness.
That’s heartening right?