Where-in I Reveal Information You May Not Want To Know

Consider yourself fairly warned.

In my on going quest to give Eli a sibling I've been seeing a fertility doctor and having some tests done the past month. I've had a regular exam, two blood draws, and on Wed and Thurs a sonohystogram and a hysterosalpingogram. Everything was normal until yesterday when the HSG showed that my left ovary is one big mass of adhesion's. That darn left ovary just don't work y'all. And you know I'm not freaking out about it. Actually I feel pretty OK, at least I know that there is something wrong and I know that it's not something so drastic that I'll never have kids. I do still wish it had turned out Jason was broken just for the joy of taunting the love of my life. The love of my life who was very sweet yesterday afternoon, he took Eli out to lunch and to pick up his paycheck so I'd have quiet house to rest in (the HSG was not the most comfortable of tests) and he let me know that he thinks maybe it's cancer. Don't worry, it's not, Jason thinks that everything is cancer. If I get a bad cold he wants to take me to E.R. it's kind of adorable in a way.

So I'm not really sure where we'll go from here on the baby making front, I have a big meeting on March 7th, but I am fairly certain that Eli will not be an only child. And that makes me happy and a bit less frantic.

Pictures, Followed By A Healthy Dose of Whinging

We were supposed to go Saturday morning to do Christmas pictures, but Friday night Eli had a fever followed by some nasty intestinal nonsense (these illnesses are the only time i hate cloth diapers). The photo appointment got cancelled for the second time and I still needed pictures for Christmas cards; last years cards got sent out without pictures and that WAS NOT HAPPENING THIS YEAR. So, Sunday afternoon we had a photo shoot. I bought at a backdrop and prop at the dollar store by my house. Then I tried to get Eli to hold still and let me take his photo. That was harder.

This face was solicited by Jason telling him to hold still. Adorable but sad.

This was my dollar store prop, a tissue paper tree from 1987! So awesome! And so completely destroyed now that Elijah got his hands on it. I may go over and see if there's another one and pack it away for safekeeping. It could be worth a lot of money some day...

I took over 135 photos, if you're interested you can see a bunch of them here: http://picasaweb.google.com/emilycleone/ChristmasPhotoShoot#. Monday morning I narrowed it down to three pictures and ordered cards from CVS.com. If you read this chances are good you're on my list and you'll be getting a card, I'm really pleased with how they turned out.

Now is the time for people who don't want to listen to me whine or just don't care about my issues to stop reading. Close the page. OK.

My period is almost two weeks late. And as of Sunday morning pregnancy tests are coming back negative. This is bullshit. I'm feeling a lot better about this than I was last week thanks to my baby board friends and Jason happily letting me freak out at home but it's still irking me. How am I supposed to try to conceive when my body can't get it together? Through the magic of the Internet I know tons of other women are going through the same thing I am and engaging in the same crazy behaviors. Said behaviors include: obsessively peeing on tiny sticks, pulling said tiny sticks out of the trash hours later to make sure they're still negative and becoming all to familiar with the phenomena of evaporation lines http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3093/2732979251_5a2b92d359.jpg?v=0. That's what happened to me on Friday, I was sure that the very very very faint line on my test was a positive. But no it's just a stupid test defect. The tests shouldn't do that, it's mean. It taunts ladies whose hormones are very clearly already out of whack and it makes me want to write pithy emails to people. When I think of the money I've spent on pregnancy tests I'm a lot ashamed. I'll actually save money by getting pregnant. Well kind of... Anyway I'll be happier and that should count for something.

Trying Too Hard

For anyone who is not interested in listening to self indulgent whining my advice is to skip this post.

The handful of people who read this blog probably know that I've been actively trying to get pregnant with baby number two for almost a year now. And before that we were, I guess you could say, informally trying by rarely doing anything to prevent pregnancy. I got pregnant with Eli like that (picture me snapping my fingers) and honestly I thought this time would be a snap as well. It hasn't been. And I'm having trouble thinking of anything else. I am so obsessed with getting pregnant that I'm driving myself and a lot of other people crazy. Every month until my period comes I am analyzing every single thing my body does. Every ache, every twinge, every fluid, every weird dream, every episode of absent mindedness. Could that be a symptom? Could that be a symptom? Could that be a symptom? EVERYTHING until I want to bang my head against something hard to make my brain stop.

When I was a teenager and in therapy for a few different sorts of obsessive behavior my very awesome therapist taught me to meditate (I used to do this on top of the dorm sized fridge in my room which was a please eat bribe from my mom) and made me keep a negative thought journal. Whenever I thought something like "I'm so fat I don't know how anyone can stand looking at me." or "That apple slice had all my calories for the day now I can't eat anything else." or "My mom is ten minutes late coming home from work she must have died in a horrible car accident." I had to stop whatever I was doing and write it down. This helped because 1. I saw how ridiculous I was after a few weeks of rereading my daily entries and 2. I got tired of writing these things down. And while I'm usually obsessing over something in my head nothing has been as bad as things were in adolescence until now. Of course I have considered starting another fun notebook of all my nasty obsessive thoughts but I don't have time for that with a toddler and I'm not so sure it would even work. Until I get pregnant I can't imagine anything distracting me from trying to get pregnant.

Since no one in real life wants to hear about it I finally decided to blog about it because after rereading my old diaries I remembered how fucking good it feels to write things out. I also realized how annoying 14-16 year old Emily was (sorry mom) and I don't want to be obsessed and annoying like that here but I need an outlet. I promise to head up any posts like this with a warning and people can skip over them and look at pictures of the little man and continue to like me. Seems fair right?