Last dance.

From today until about, oh, Wednesday, I need everyone out there to think fertile thoughts and cosmically send them my way. These next few days are our last chance at conceiving a baby. No pressure, though.

Now, if you’re not feeling particularly sexy, may I suggest locking yourself in the handicap bathroom stall at work (come on, you know you use it when no one else is looking) with a pocket rocket or the latest issue of Juggs or something. This is no time for modesty, people. Like I said, it’s my last chance, and I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to break out the crazy voodoo shit to make this happen.

untitledhusband has had to overcome his crippling fear of needles and blood to inject my backside with a fertility drug called Repronex (hormones that stimulate ovulation) every month. Sounds painful, but it’s hurt our pocketbook more than my rear end. Much of what I have read online says that if the injectibles haven’t worked after three months, they probably are not going to work. Month one I had a good-sized follicle, but for some reason, it did not fertilize. Second month, same thing. Some infertility bulletin boards suggest shooting room temperature egg whites up your cooch before intercourse — somehow, that makes the little swimmers survive longer. The first two months, I refrained from such stitch witchery. But at this point, I’d shove the entire chicken up there if it would result in a pregnancy.

If things don’t take this month, I won’t say that I won’t be frustrated and a little bit angry. Because I’m sure I will be. But I’m fully aware that there are many women out there who cannot have any children. For me to be all pissy because I can’t have a second, well, that’s not right. So all I ask for now is strength — strength to get me through whatever this month’s outcome will be. Strength to deal with the fact that life is rarely fair, and that undeserving assholes win the lottery, get promoted and more often than not, walk away with the free salad spinner at the Tupperware party.

All this makes me question who exactly is at the helm up there. untitledhusband believes it is no one. My scientific mind agrees with him, but my desperate heart so wants to believe that someone, somewhere is looking after me, making sure that I get a little somethin somethin for letting people into traffic and saying hi to the Wal-Mart door greeter. If no one is driving this car, well then, life is just a bunch of coincidences and consequences. Now is that a downer or what?

So in lieu of remaining confused and let down, I choose to give my doubts a rest and find some hope and faith. At least for a few more weeks. I desperately need to believe that god or whomever is not going to pass me by this time. So I am officially taking my sadness and my shrivelled old eggs and passing them off to god. But by doing so, I damn well hope that she’s going to book it to the end zone and do the funky chicken when she gets there, cause sista girl needs the Hail Mary right now.

13 thoughts on “Last dance.”

  1. Untitled, why shouldn’t you bitch and complain about this? If I had a dollar for every time someone said, “I shouldn’t complain because so and so has it so much worse than I do” I’d be a rich. You are validated in your anger and sadness – go with it.

    Isn’t it all relative anyway? I say complain, bitch, be sad, angry – whatever it takes for you to get through this. For all you haters out there who feel like you can’t let a person feel their pain because you think yours is worse – grow up. We all hurt.

  2. Wow-flashback! I did the whole injection thing 20 years ago. Hubby would start to sweat when he had to give me the shots. He would stick the needle in my butt and on more than one occasion I made a little sound so he would pull it out without injecting first so naturally he had to stick me again. And the timed sex–what an anti-thrill. Our fertility guy actually looked at his watch during one visit and told us to have sex at 11 that night~hubby said he felt like he should start eating hay since he was being treated like a stud horse……here we are now with 3 kids….None of whom were conceived with fertility drugs, just plain old sex. Good luck!!! Chris

  3. Prayin for you. Hope the untitled swimmers meet the untitled egg(s) and you get to shop for clothes at Pea in a Pod this summer.

    Untitled Embryo. It has a nice ring to it.

  4. I heard once that if after you have sex, you should stand on your head or elevate your feet or something so the semen can just sliiiide down your vagina.

    I think that was SATC, though…

  5. I say go with the egg whites if you’ve heard it will help – there is something neat-o bandito voodoo-istic about breaking some unfertile eggs to help some other eggs get fertilized.

    As for the God thing, I’ll send up a prayer. Someone once told me that the crazy thing about God is that it’s an upsidedown kingdom – you get what you need, but it’s never the way you think it’s coming. Here is to you getting better than what you could imagine.

  6. I wish I had something witty, pithy, anything to say here, but just know you and all the untitled family will be in my thoughts and prayers. It is such a frustrating position to be in because we CANNOT control it, no matter how much science we throw at it. Been there, too. We call son #2 the 1-stick wonder…we had one more ovulation stick left before we were pitching it in for good. Now, go get naked!

  7. I have no advice. I am the original anti-mom. I can’t even imagine wanting a child. Like I have said before, they just aren’t cute to me because they aren’t covered in fur…and if they were covered in fur, I would worry about that, too.

    All I want to say is that, for what it is worth, I am sending out the good thoughts for you and your baby project.

  8. Untitled, I love your blog!

    Before you go sticking egg whites in the places the sun doesn’t shine, try Pre-Seed (I bought mine from Babyhopes.com). It worked for us.

  9. The handicapped stall is not just for the disabled, it’s for every one but the disabled are able to use it and you should let them go first if there is a line.

    Good luck!

  10. Thanks for all the words of encouragement. I’m passing them all along to untitledspermies and untitledeggs.

    Manda — thank you and welcome to untitled! we’ve used the preseed (some expensive stuff) in the past. Perhaps we need to whip up an egg white/preseed cocktail and see if that works.

  11. Sending warm, happy, cheerful thoughts your way, along with wishes for things like chocolate covered jalapeno olives in your near future!

    The egg white thing sounds interesting. I wonder if it has to do with the protein or the lubricant it would provide?

    Best of luck!

  12. Wonderful things happen when you least expect it. Our thoughts and prayers are with you.

    Not sure if this means anything, but I have a friend that has always had weight issues (a pretty staunch loathing of her body). She finally decided to let go of the anger, try to feel sexy, and get her husband to buy into it – which was music to his ears. As soon as she started loving (and forgiving) her body, she got pregnant pretty quickly. Perhaps she had relaxed enough to encourage a little one to grow in a happy, loving place. All is wonderful now.

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