Tag Archives: mommies

BOO! The Trickiest of Treats Has Arrived!

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halloween reveal #2

JQS-12 weeksI can tell…..you all look like you just saw a ghost right now, don’t you!? ;)) Well, what better time to announce our incredible news than on our favorite holiday, right before our one year wedding anniversary?! Yes, it is true! Chris and I are thrilled to announce I am in my second trimester and our son is due April 20th, 2015!

Seems our little egg is the trickiest of treats and found his way into our Halloween goody-basket unassisted and earlier than we had anticipated. Let’s just say, we already know he has a mind of his own and clearly does things on his own time (which I already predicted.) Unbeknownst to us, little Nugget had already made his way to us as we sat in our fertility specialist’s office on that very first appointment back at the beginning of August. Because it was very early, it wasn’t until a couple of weeks and six pregnancy tests later that we discovered he was on his way. Ironically, the one month we completely ruled out the possibility of conceiving due to poor timing with me in Vegas for work, did not deter this super baby. Apparently one time, 3-4 days before ovulation was all it took. He decided to chill out and just wait. This one is a keeper. He wants to be here.

While we were completely floored and thrilled (and in shock for a good day or two,) this also meant that Nugget clearly wanted to go to Italy with us as well. Not the trip we had anticipated, my little man granted Mommy no appetite all week, nausea, narcolepsy and an embarrassing display of motion sickness over the side of a boat in front of The Blue Grotto in Capri. So, instead of feasting on Limoncello, wine and endless bowls of pasta all week, I opted for ginger ale, bread, gelato and the occasional bowl of pasta when I could keep it down. All well worth it……

In a nutshell, the first trimester was filled with more fear and anxiety than morning sickness. While I do have the acne of a 13 year old boy, the nausea, bloating, gas and exhaustion has subsided and was bearable in hindsight. I really cannot complain as I’m sure others have had far worse first trimesters than I. Besides my food aversions and craving only watermelon, grapes and red apples, the first trimester for me has been more about how to not lose this baby. Though clearly, what will be will be, while I wish I could say I have been enjoying this time, I’ve been more fearful about waking up to cramping and seeing blood on my underwear. A normal reaction for anyone who has miscarried, I honestly just kept waiting for this little one to “disappear.” Every morning I would wake up and think, “I wonder if this is it.” But, at the same time, somewhere deeper, I knew this kid wasn’t going anywhere and I had to quiet the clutter going on in my brain. I had to start enjoying this, or the time was going to pass me by and I would have missed it all.  I’d be lying if I said it was easy and I still don’t fear the worse in the back of my mind, but, I choose to focus on the positive from here on out.

Superstitious to tell people or even dare to look at any nursery items online the first three months, with every sonogram, every blood test it would only just reaffirm him proving me wrong. He was sticking around and making himself comfy in there. I think it really hit me after my Maternit 21 and NT Ultrasound came back negative. It all became real and I’ll never forget that night in the living room, standing there on speaker phone with the doctor as she told us the good news on the test results and watching Chris stumble back into the wall with surprise hearing we were having a boy….It is one of the greatest, happiest moments in my life. I will never forget it.

Now as I ease into my 16th week, I’m starting to enjoy things much more. I’m dealing with the weight gain and all the changes going on in my body and am embracing it all. My belly recently popped and I just love it. So does Chris (as does he love my increased boob size as well.) Most importantly, I am starting to feel more at ease that this time will all be OK. We are over the moon excited, feel extraordinarily blessed to have conceived by “spontaneous conception” after all (as documented by my OB) and are ready, loving and living for this ride we are on.

While this blog started out with the intention of chronicling my fertility journey, I transition now into my pregnancy journey. During these last couple of months, part of me felt as though I lucked out and didn’t endure enough to get to this point. I guess a bit of a guilt -complex set in that I should have struggled more to earn my war badge like so many others must. I do hope however, if in any small way, I will serve as a bit of inspiration and proof to those women still reading that miracles do happen and can and will happen when the timing is right, one way or another……..So please, keep the faith and let’s see where this journey leads all of us!

Until next time…..Happy Halloween & wishing you all 1 Good Egg in your goody bag too! xxx

 

The Right to “Due” Process.

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Over the past few weeks, I have received multiple emails from women; friends I speak to on a regular basis, some I haven’t spoken to in a while and some who are Chris’ friends. They all have a similar tone, sharing either what they went through themselves to get their little ones here or what they are currently going through.  I started thinking about how similar we all are, the fear, the anxiety, the hope and the perseverance we wake up to each day. But….it also made me pause to consider how different each woman’s story is at the same time. Each is an individualized journey, which should be respected and admired. Baby-making is a process; a process as unique as any other artist’s creative process. Each person will take twists and turns along the way that another may not, even though the end product we are trying to create is the same. Sometimes, it’s those personal decisions along the way which  prepares us, makes us ready, stronger, full of fight, to tackle all that is about to come. And sometimes it is that journey which is what makes us so appreciative in the end. There is no right or wrong way and a woman and her partner’s decisions along the fertility ride is going to be considered as carefully as the partner they chose to have this baby with or whether this kid is going to Harvard or Yale.

All you hear when you’re young is how NOT to get pregnant. I’m sure a lot of us spent the majority of our teenage years and early 20’s thinking every time we had the smallest slip up, that was it, pregnant. Life was over. I mean, the first time I got felt up and a boy even laid on top of me (fully clothed mind you,) I thought I had committed a cardinal sin. That was the longest month ever waiting for my period to come. Could I really have been that naïve?! Apparently so….All I know is God, Mother Mary and every Saint I could think of and I had a very close relationship at that time and I don’t think I ever prayed so hard for something not to be. Funny how things change…….

Now, women in the position of wanting something so desperately look for the answers of, “OK, so how do I get pregnant?” Nobody said anything about egg viability, misshapen uteruses, miscarriages and “geriatric pregnancies,” so why does this process become just that, a process? Aren’t we supposed to just be intimate with our partners and nine months later a healthy, beautiful bundle of joy arrives from the love that was created? Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be? Well, yes in theory and sometimes miracles do happen just like that even when we think they wouldn’t, but sometimes they don’t.

After hearing friends’ stories of their process, what they endured, some of the judgment they received at times and how they soldiered on to do what felt right for them in order to be a mommy, I just wanted to remind women in current situations or starting this process to listen to your gut. You know… that mommy instinct that is going to come in handy when you do have your baby? Listen to it closely. This is your story and you are the only one who can write it. While hearing what others went through and asking for advice will be crucial for research while gathering information and for moral support, there will come a point when you need to quiet the noise coming from a million directions and listen to yourself. This is unfortunately not a one- size-fits all situation where you follow the manual and connect the dots. So, after careful thought, if you do decide you want to try fertility drugs or Acupuncture or Cupping or Chinese Medicine, or IUI or IVF or an egg donor or a sperm donor or a surrogate or adoption, etc., do it. And just keep reminding yourself it’s not how you get to the title of “Mommy” in the end, it’s just about being called Mommy. I wish you all, the easiest and briefest journey in your process. Never stop hoping.

“Who YOU Calling Geriatric?!”

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Now that my doting husband and I are back from our whirlwind Italian adventure, complete with romantic strolls, sun, gelato, pasta…..gelato and more pasta……it’s time to get back to reality as much as I’d love to sit around our pool in the lemon grove and continue to indulge in carbohydrates as my main food group.

Upon our descent back into normal life, nothing will smack you hard across the face more than being enlightened to the notion that apparently age is still not just something of a number. While I have gotten over the hump of turning 38 a few weeks ago, dealt with it and embraced all the wonderful positivity that surfaced the air before we left on vacation, it seems that women over 35 are still being labeled with a stigma that really has my pasta water boiling. I’m not sure how many of you are aware, but “geriatric pregnancy” has been brought to my attention by my acupuncture guru as a legitimate medical term for a pregnant woman over 35.  When she informed me of this horror, I was flabbergasted and must have had the, “Are you fucking kidding me?” face on for a good 30 seconds….Literally. So what did Jess do? Jess went home and immediately started researching this nasty, name-calling to get to the bottom of this.

Apparently, as I’ve read, while the medical community must have had a light bulb go off in their antiquated heads that this categorization was just that…antiquated…they have been so gracious as to now update the term to, “advanced maternal age” in their medical books. I’m sure that this will make every woman over 35, or just about to turn 35 feel so much better.  Thank you.

Really? That’s the best you can do?

Now, listen, I am not minimizing the reality of the situation when a woman begins their fertility journey a little later in life. I’m living proof, as many of my girlfriends can attest to as well. There are obviously things that need to be addressed and physical things that are occurring in the body that nobody has any control over. Our egg viability and reserve are what they are and certain risk factors do increase the older we get, nobody will deny that……..BUT, there are also a lot of myths out there which need to be dispelled.

Firstly, infertility does not just ‘mostly’ affect women over 35. There are many, many women in their twenties and early thirties who are enduring the same pain, heartbreak and frustration that “geriatric women” are facing. I’ve seen them in the doctor’s office every week with the same look of desperation, nerves and cautious hope I have. Sometimes, there is no rhyme or reason for why things are the way they are, so to blame age as the culprit every time is excluding an entire demographic of women struggling with the same issues.

Secondly, while the risk for certain things like preterm labor, birth defects and miscarriage does increase with age, these numbers do not magically spike overnight and should not be viewed as a curse or death sentence. A concern? Yes. The need for continuous dialogue with your doctor and pre-screening? Definitely. But if you are 38, you should still feel optimistic to assume you will and can have a healthy, happy baby. And that’s what I intend to believe.

Finally, while I’ve mentioned this in a previous blog entry, it is worth reiterating. There is something that is most important to consider. As the years roll on, women are having babies later in life for a number of reasons. They are more career-orientated, they have things they want to accomplish for themselves first, they want to be financially stable, they want to find the right partner, etc. This takes time. The stars don’t always align when we want them to. All the pieces of the puzzle have to fit. Fertility is just one of those pieces. And no, there is never the perfect time to have a baby, but society is clearly shifting in terms of women delaying motherhood. There is no denying that. However, older women are also having more success than in recent years because of better emotional, financial and medical support….and that’s pretty inspiring.

I will not lie though…..I do envy those perky little pregnant 27 year olds, sitting on the subway rubbing their perfectly popped bellies, prenatal yoga mat in hand, looking picture perfect, thinking…. “This bitch probably got pregnant on the first try & her body is going to snap right back in a week.” You know what? I still wouldn’t change where I am at this point in my life. In truth and in fairness however, I don’t know that girl’s journey and what she endured to get where she is. She may have struggled beyond measure. But, it still makes me feel better in a moment of weakness. I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t.

Being younger does have many, many advantages but I don’t believe it’s all about youth anymore. I think there is something to be said for having lived a little. And, in truth, a lot of my friends look better than some twenty-something’s I see on the street. Maybe it’s because they do work harder for it and are more conscience of living healthy lifestyles. Maybe it’s also because when you’re in your twenties, you’re expected to be beautiful and perfect (and fertile.) When you’re older, you’ve earned it. (I can’t take credit for that thought; it was on an episode of Golden Girls…..thanks Dorothy….)

With that, I choose to remember that Grandma Jessie over here is not about to give up her stilettos for a walker or her focus of one good egg for throwing in the towel and sitting back in her rocking chair waiting for her body to disintegrate. Medical community, you can label us over 35’s anything you want, but the bottom line is, we are not out for the count…….it may take us a while to get there, but we can. Having a baby is called a miracle for a reason. If and when it’s a woman’s time to conceive, she will….beyond all science and logic….and that’s whether you’re 38 or 28. Here’s to hope everyone.

Jackpot

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“Papa can you hear meeeeee……..?!”

Those are the words that replayed through my head as we sat in the waiting room during our first specialist meeting. My heart was racing. My palms were sweating. It took everything in my power not to squeeze the last ounce of blood out of Chris’ hand as he signed every last bit of paperwork;  which made me fear we might actually be so poor after this venture that we’ll have to sign away the rights to that very child we are trying to have.

Just as I was about to get up to pee for the 2nd time in ten minutes or have a coronary from nerves, whichever came first……there he emerged. It was like something biblical; a religious moment. He parted the partition doors the way Moses parted the Red Sea. People weep when they see the holy land, I wept when I laid eyes on him. I immediately saw his welcoming smile as I heard him call my name, but all I saw were heavenly white lights that surrounded him as if he was going to lead us to that very promised land……..I then was able to draw my first breath that morning.

We had hit the mother-load. There he was, in all his fertility specialist glory. An adorable, young, Jewish, yamaka wearing, Harvard educated miracle worker leading US into his 27th floor, all-city view office ready to check my eggs. MY eggs!! I was honored. I felt prouder than his Jewish mother probably did the day he told her he was becoming a doctor. More thoughts raced through my head from the short walk to his office than the 45 minutes it took me that morning to decide what to wear and how to do my hair so I might appear younger; hoping it would therefore lead him to give me better news about my eggs due to my youthful appearance. All I kept thinking was, “If this guy can’t get me pregnant. Nobody’s going to.” I will go so far as to say I was ready to break out into a rendition of “The Bottle Dance” from Fiddler to entertain him or bring  him a beautiful brisket next time if it meant he was going to make this happen for us. Yes, I am not above bribery at this point. If I’m going to go down, I will go down swinging.

Within the first five minutes, I was in love. Within the first ten minutes, I think the blood returned to my body. Within the first fifteen minutes, I felt more reassured than I have in months and he hadn’t really said anything of consequence yet. An hour and a half in his office, he spoke to us like human beings. He was kind and thorough and funny and never once spoke down to us. He explained things in laymen’s terms so we understood everything and was honest about where we were at. He was confident and hopeful and his positive outlook……well, his positive outlook made us feel we could have a positive outlook too.

He stressed how he was not too concerned with my pesky FSH level of 12 and because my AMH was above the median for my age meant that there was a reserve there. Now, we don’t know what the viability of that egg reserve is yet, but he did stress nobody’s eggs are ever all bad, even women in their 40’s. As I’ve come to understand from my new best friend, in the last few years, a lot of doctors are now turning to the AMH level more than the FSH level because there is a chance for moderate fluctuation from cycle to cycle. The AMH is more constant and doesn’t really vary. That number is what it is. He was confident that if he repeated the blood work it might have even gone down to an 8 next time. So there we were……..OK….*“insert even bigger exhale.”

As he continued and told us he didn’t really expect too many surprises to surface from my impending HSG (aka tube & uterus check test) or Chris’ semen analysis (oh yes, get ready for that blog entry coming up soon……that will be a good one,) he confessed that with our history, the way things are looking on my lab report and the biggest prognostic factor being that I was just pregnant, he wouldn’t be surprised if we wound up doing this on our own if we gave it a few more months.

But…..first….the dreaded internal sonogram. Good times.

My poor husband should receive a medal for his bravery that day. As he anxiously watched me undress to get examined, he was like a helpless child trying to do something to help me, standing there, waiting to take my pants and underwear to lie neatly on the chair. (This really is no different when he wants to get lucky, though he is not as anal about folding them and laying them on a chair.)

Cut to the chase…..Dr. Mazel Tov showed us everything and in fact I not only had 1 or 2 follicles, I had 6 on the right and 5 on the left! Just one short of a dozen!! Go me!

But of course, because it’s me, I couldn’t just be left to bask in my follicle joyfulness as I stared and recounted each dark circle on the sono. That would not make for interesting reading folks. Of course there has to be a small, potential red-flag. Although preliminary, it is appearing that my uterus might be slightly misshapen. Not to be confused with a tipped uterus. This is different. Mine is appearing as a “partial bicornuate.” In other words, what is also called a “heart shaped uterus.” My uterus looks a bit like two devil horns coming out from either side. –(I could go to so many places with the devil horn thing right now, but I’ll leave it alone. I think those of you that know me are probably already chuckling at this.) So, while he appeared to not be overly concerned by it, my HSG will tell us more as to whether it is insignificant enough to just be left alone or whether I will need a surgical procedure to correct it. Either way, the doc said it is not something to stress over. (Yeah right……surgery on my uterus, sounds awesome. Sign me up.)

As we finished up and spoke about options we might consider after our tests and procedures are completed, he was quick to say that no matter what we choose to do, he would like us to wait until after our upcoming 2nd honeymoon to Italy. Because we “fit the profile” of couples who go through all the preliminary testing and then wind up calling him to say, “Never mind….we’re pregnant,” he is optimistic. But, he also does not want to start any kind of drug protocol until I’m home and can be monitored. Fair enough. Here’s hoping though. He said to go and enjoy vacation and we’ll take it from there upon our return. He said we can even choose to do nothing for a few months. So, who knows, we might be able to make-a-little-meat-a-ball or-a pizza-pie on our own….and if we don’t, we now have a plan to come back to and feel we are in the best, most capable hands. We might end up homeless after our insurance coverage runs out and we start paying out of pocket, but hey, one day at a time for now….it was a good first visit.

And there you have it. Chris and I walked into what we hoped would be a lucky gamble and we walked out hitting the proverbial fertility jackpot of doctors. Lucky 7’s , Triple Cherry’s across the board.

Thank you, Dr. for giving us some tikvah.

Yasher Koach.

 

Cervical Mucus & American Ninja Warrior.

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*Before I start this blog entry, I’d like to apologize to my husband in advance for the full disclosure & TMI. He was an innocent participant in all of this.

          So…any of us that are having issues conceiving know changes in cervical mucus during the month are prime indicators for when ovulation and your peak fertile window is approaching. We all wait patiently for that little smiley face on the ovulation predictor test to appear and for that perfect “egg-white” texture (hence another egg reference) and aim to provide those little “spermies” an ideal vessel in which to travel. Yeah…..well, I just don’t seem to have a knack for deciphering the difference between creamy, sticky, egg-white or watery cervical mucus. Maybe, I just don’t have any. Who knows at this point? I could be drying up like the Sahara for all I know. Only until this month was I able to think I got some sort of glimpse into what this magical and heavenly egg-white texture was supposed to look and feel like. When I told my acupuncturist that I just don’t see significant changes, she reminded me that I did get pregnant once already so something must be going right….fair enough.

         Well on my quest to decide if the “Big O” was approaching (ovulation day, not orgasm day in case your minds were in the gutter)….I must have spent a good half hour trying to figure out what was going on. The ovulation test was still not showing any signs of the stupid smiley face and honestly, I was not in the mood for anything that night other than devouring the yummy dinner I had just made and plopping on the couch with the dog and a cuppa. But….duty called and I was determined not to miss out on another month. I finally decided that I am shit at this and would have to enlist Chris to check for me when he got home. Great. Now he’s gonna think I want to fool around and pounce. Same way he assumes this when I quickly walk naked through the apartment to throw my dirty laundry in the washing machine before jumping in the shower. No, I’m not trying to be sexy or seduce you right now walking scantily clad across the room…. I just want to put my dirty clothes away because they stink from 5 hours of teaching dance classes tonight. Nonetheless I was going to take my chances.

          My adorable, loving husband walked through the door that night and during dinner I explained what he had in store of him that evening. Talk about a honey-do list.

Me: “Babe, I need you to check my cervical mucus tonight.”

*Picks up his head with that wry smile…*

Chris: “Alrighty, I think I’m up for the task…..” *wink* *wink*

Me: “No hon. Seriously. I’m not trying to be sexy here. I really don’t know what I’m looking for.”

Him: “OK. If I must…..I must…….” *wink* *wink*

Me: “Oh god…..really??”

          As we both broke out into laughter, I thought he got the picture that his usual up for anything wife was tired this one evening and this was purely a clinical request. As I waited for him to change and get comfortable I was flicking through the T.V. before he called me into our bedroom.

Chris: “OK…lay down.”

Me: “Don’t be funny, just do it.”

Chris: “I will but I need you to lay down and relax.”

Me: “Alright. But just do it quick. Please……..”

Chris: “OK, but I can’t work under this kind of pressure.”

Me:……*silence*……………”Are you done yet?”

Chris: *heavy breathing commences – slowly starts kissing me*………

Me: *more silence and then I hear the T.V. in the background*…….“Hon….I love you but I really don’t want to fool around right now. Can you PLEASE just check my cervical mucus so I can go watch America Ninja Warrior???”

Chris: *hysterical laughter*…….”Yeah, yeah alright……..”

          God I love that husband of mine. He just gets it. Priorities people. Priorities. This is what intimacy is built from…….Long story short………we never figured out the cervical mucus that night but we did catch one hell of an episode. Great show.

 

The Decision to Put Out.

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          Writing this blog has been something I’ve been toying with for the last few weeks. While it’s been frustrating since the miscarriage in January waiting to conceive again (and honestly more like expecting to conceive again since we got pregnant on the first try,) the new-found knowledge that my eggs are in question has made the situation even more pertinent. So, instead of just waiting for the miracle of life to happen naturally, receiving the information that may not happen on its own has put me in a very different head space.
          This journey is extremely personal. It’s a lot of information that a lot of people might question why I’m putting out there. Quite frankly, I questioned writing it myself and spoke with Chris at length about whether I wanted our lives out there and why. The truth? I just hope it helps. I hope it helps me to get my emotions and thoughts out there so I don’t sit around and brew and feel sorry for myself. I hope it inspires others. I hope it teaches people that infertility is prevalent and it’s nobody’s fault. I hope it creates dialogue. I hope it fosters support. I hope it makes relationships stronger. I hope it makes us laugh and show there are funny moments amidst struggle and I hope at the end of this journey, I have these writings to show our “little egg” how much he was wanted and how much we were willing to endure to get him here. 
          As with anything I have done in my life, I either do, or don’t do. I did it in my professional dance career, I did it in grad school and I still do it now when I teach. A good dancer doesn’t mark. Everything is full out. I either will put myself out there 110% or not at all. So here I go. What I will say is as hard as this situation continues to get, I am the luckiest girl to have a partner who listened to my thoughts on starting this blog, sat there at the kitchen table and said I should go and do this “balls out” and write from the heart, uncensored. So I thank “The Brit” for letting me expose him, for being my rock, my biggest supporter and my partner in crime who I take this baby-makin biz with seriously. We are a team. Me and you. You and me. No matter where this roads leads us. I may have been more fertile, with ripe, juicy follicles at 25 where the egg pickin’s were endless, but you were a piece of the puzzle that needed to be filled before this baby was meant to be. I believe that I needed to wait for you. So while all those puzzle pieces align, the timing is optimal now, no matter what those numbers on a lab report say. Everything in our relationship and all that has fallen into place for us has been ruled by the stars and angels above. This will be no different. With this struggle, we will love and appreciate this baby ten-fold when he arrives. Neither of us is afraid of adversity and even in weak moments we will be OK. That much, I know.
          So….that’s why I’m putting out; my writing that is, figuratively speaking. I am scared, excited, hopeful, anxious, ready, filled with dread, doubtful, faithful, fearless, optimistic, pessimistic, trusting and forging ahead. Lately, I have often been caught saying to myself and others,

“I can do this. I know my body can do this at least once. I feel it. There’s no way I can’t conceive and carry at least one healthy child.”

          I have been so tightly wound to control this situation and even though I have never felt so good physically, mentally and spiritually through the practice of mediation, prayer, acupuncture, Chinese Medicine, exercise, rest, summer days at the beach, great sex and de-stressing, the truth is, ultimately this is not in my control. There is a reason having a baby is called a miracle. There is a point where science ends and faith must take over. As my dear friend Simone recently pointed out,

“I hear you keep saying ‘you can do this.’ ‘You know your body can do this at least once.’ Jess, when you realize that it’s not YOU that’s going to make this happen and release it up to God, let him do his thing and trust….that’s when you’re going to get pregnant.”

          This has stuck with me for the past few days. I know it’s completely true and nobody has said it better. Now….here….. is where I try to make a conscious effort to control the things I can control but worry a little less and trust my angels above. Through my writing I hope to find a peaceful place of acceptance and get ready for this baby we can’t wait to meet.

Waiting. Period.

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           Yep….OK…..15 DPO, 4 negative pregnancy tests, 2 swollen boobs I want to rip off my body, 10 gallons of water weight bloating, one moody wife and one patient husband…… and…… we wait. Oh no, we’re not waiting for the love our life, our “little egg” to appear, no we’re waiting for Aunt Flo to finally friggin get here so I can button my pants again this month and get over the fact that despite perfect timing, egg-white cervical mucus (finally), a happy smiley face on the O test and corresponding temperatures, we are in fact NOT PREGNANT. We are so not pregnant that the void of a second line on the pregnancy test was so apparent the thing almost jumped out and smacked me in the face to tell me,

“Asshole. You are not pregnant and staring at me isn’t going to change it, no matter how many angles you look at me from or how long you hold me up to the window to see if the sun reflects a line off of me. Stop holding me under the table lamp too and putting me down, walking away for ten minutes and coming back to double check. You’re just making an idiot of yourself and you should be ashamed.”

          So….here Priscilla sits waiting…..just waiting……Oh. Wait. You haven’t met. Meet Priscilla. That is my PMS alter ego who remains present until post-period, follicular phase Jessie returns. I’m sure you’ll get to know her well.

          You know….It’s bad enough you have the dreaded two week wait after ovulation where you sit in this purgatory of hell just willing your temperatures to stay up so that you’re still in the running. But now, to know you’re not pregnant and your luteal phase just doesn’t want to end….well that’s just cruel and downright mean.

          People asking, “well…..are you sure you’re not pregnant?” does not help either. In a nutshell…….Yes, I’m fucking sure. Do you think I’m making this shit up? Do you think I enjoy the repeated ass-kicking my negative pregnancy test has been giving me the past week?! Really??? Mind your business……..I know my body.

          I guess I should look on the bright side. My luteal phase is long enough for an embryo to implant so that’s one problem I’m not enduring. Although, there is no embryo that seems to want to implant so that kind of defeats the purpose of that rationale. But, nonetheless as my acupuncture guru advises,

“I believe your body is getting itself ready to implant. Your temperatures are looking good (except that dip mid cycle we just can’t seem to boost and she keeps reminding me of) and it’s just a matter of time…..It’s going to happen.”

          I do believe this….I have to believe this. Now, I just need to talk Priscilla off the ledge before she demolishes ALL of The Brit’s chocolate stash his friends brought him over from England.

Period.