Archive for May, 2010

My appointMental Breakdown

As I discussed in a long-ago post, I have made a part-time job of going to alternative health care providers to encourage conception and prepare for a healthy pregnancy. I am not exaggerating when I say I go to one such appointment every single frickin’ day. I do it to myself, I know.

The Mayan Abdominal Massage therapist I recently started going to recommended I see a naturopath she knows. I did so today. The naturopath explained that, given my health complaints, I should get a slew of testing done. One of the tests identifies specific parasites in the gut. She said infection in my intestines could be the trigger for so much of what I deal with. The problem? (’cause I was born to find one) If anything is found in this test, the treatment is such that I won’t be able to continue trying to conceive until it’s over (about 3 months).

I'll eat you from inside! Be afraid!

She made sense when she said I’d have a better chance of conceiving after getting my insides as good as possible. But this month marks a full year since we started trying, and even though we didn’t try continuously during that year, the waiting has been the same torture. Presuming I do have some sort of yuck in me (we all have parasites), I am looking at waiting some more—and just after we started to get things rolling smoothly with E2.

I suppose it’s a good thing that my many appointments also include mental health because this development is making me a bit nutty, depressed, anxious, sad, angry, worried, sleepless, dizzy, and sad some more.

Also, this naturopath, who was extremely nice, made the mistake of telling me that I’m “still young” when I expressed my dismay at the news of delaying future inseminations. Note to health care people (especially if you already have kids and/or are straight): don’t say that! We have to go through so effing much to get things going on the lesbian conception front that three extra months is a big deal and finding a donor and negotiating and legalizing everything and coordinating the timing of inseminations makes it just a wee bit harder and takes a wee bit longer. I don’t know what she could have said that would’ve made the concept of suspending our efforts easier to take. I just know that being told I’m still young was not it. She doesn’t know me from Eve and has no idea what I’ve been through to get to this point.

Whew! The boobs may be getting heavier, but my chest sure feels lighter after that!

Now, mind you, if it turns out I am pregnant, then there will be no treatment, and the little parasites and the big parasite (i.e., fetus) can share the apartment.

The Early Bird Catches the Sperm

We started inseminating on day 10 this time because everyone tells us it’s better to do it too early. Yesterday (day 13), I finally got the positive LH surge on my pee stick, and we did our fourth and final insemination last night. Kudos to the young stud for biking out here 4 days in a row and (so to speak) doing the deed. (Btw, I totally freaked out on him when he said he was riding his bike over. He assured me that his bike seat is one of those crotchless ones for guys with prostrate issues, and later I apologized for being a crazy woman.)

I’ve never been so relieved to be done with an insemination! Everything went well, but I was a mess. My lower-right pain started up on day 9 and grew in intensity until yesterday, when it was just too much. I still have no idea what’s causing it, but K worked on some of the tight muscles in the area and we got in with the Mayan abdominal massage therapist/acupuncturist, who used some moxa. I feel a lot better today, but it hurt so much yesterday that I was a cry baby whimp and made K stay home from work to take care of me. Yeah, this is going to be a fun pregnancy.

My mom and I were talking this morning about the myth/truth? of the first, fast sperm making a boy and later, slower sperm making a girl. If that is the case, there are plenty o’ sperm that have been hanging around inside me for days (I am a walking bag of semen) that could potentially make a girl zygote.  Of course I want a happy, healthy baby first and foremost, but secretly (not any more!) I kind of always wanted a girl. K wants a boy, so, future child, if you’re reading this and you’re a boy, it’s okay to love mama more than me.


This post may contain info that’s too graphic/silly for some. There, I’ve made my disclaimer; so no “tsk, tsk”ing!

When I told our naturopath about my retroverted uterus, she suggested I get Mayan Abdominal Massage to help the uterus get back in line. Like a woman desperate to get pregnant and willing to try anything, I did so yesterday.

After a lengthy in-take with the nice acupuncturist/Mayan massage therapist (during which I was asked to remember things about my periods over the last 23 years), I took off the bottoms as directed. I thought it funny that I was told to wear comfortable pants only to remove them. After all, I wore the pants that I would only ever wear for exercise—in my own home and with no one around. But I got to walk around a very busy area of town looking for the right office in this lovely, stretchy, drawstringy pair of “pants.”

First, she put lots of needles in my extremities and head. Then she began the massage. Now, I’ve had lots of massages. This one involved strokes beginning on my pubic bone and gliding up toward the belly button. You try to relax when a stranger’s hands are nearing third base and all you can hear is the sound of old Velcro as said stranger wipes your pubes up your stomach. Over and over and over.

When the session ended, she told me to come back Monday. This Monday? So soon? Yes. But the good thing is that I will be basting, and she said the bottom half of the massage is skipped when you’re pregnant or waiting to find out if you’re pregnant. Phew!

(Okay, one cool thing about the experience is that she used oil made from plants picked in Belize by Rosita, the woman who developed the massage technique; these herbs were individually blessed for fertility. So, really, how can I not get pregnant?)

Speaking of basting… We’re all set for E2 to come over a few times this weekend. In a couple of days, I’ll start peeing on the ovulation predictors (new ones that show a clear smiley face if my LH surges, instead of the cheap ones where you end up using a microscope to compare the pink lines). I’ll also cover my bases (i.e., be extremely OCD) by visiting the naturopath once more to go over my charts to make sure we inseminate on the right days. Ooh, and K will begin checking out my os with our plastic, disposable speculum! (Did you know they even made disposable speculums? Now we just need to get some uncomfortable, disposable stirrups.)

So, will May be the month? I sure would like to keep my privates to myself for a while.

(Disclaimer: No men were harmed in the making of this blog.)

The Family

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