28 Million Boyz

There are 28 million sperm inside me in various life forms right now.  Some dead, others alive, some probably too stupid to swim forwards (they are men at the end of the day) and hopefully at least ONE going headfirst in the right direction and attacking ONE of my 4 or 5 eggs.  I mean please, boyz, it's much easier this month.  Get it right, ok?

Yesterday my good luck fertility charms came in the form of Olive and L Babypants whom I had the pleasure of eating a lovely sushi lunch with just hours before IUI #1 (nice to get sushi in one last time!).

They are both wonderful and it was great Olive could squeeze in a lunch during her time here in our fine city.

My nurse said all systems looked great and again expressed surprise at how well I responded to the Clo.mid.

I bought a pineapple on the way home and tried to eat some.  Now, I did this last month and it was all "Oh yum, pineapple.  How I love you.  Chomp, chomp"  That was before I found out that the deal with the pineapple is that you are supposed to leave the core in it!  WTF people????!!!!  Who eats pineapple with the core???  So now it's all, "Oh pineapple, yum, chomp, chomp, oh shit there's the core, Gag Gag."  The anticipation of when I will get the core has taken all of the fun out of pineapple eating.  Not Yummy.

Went to bed early with socks on feet.

This morning it was back to the clinic...with my lucky summer white pants on!  Yes, I figured it was probably the last day I was going to be able to wear them for awhile because soon the progesterone will bloat and distort my stomach and possibly make me cry about it.  But for today, they fit.

The sperm count today was even higher than yesterday and I still had lovely EWCV and a great looking cervix for IUI #2.  My sweet nurse insisted that "If you get pregnant this cycle, it's all you, it had nothing to do with us and I really hope this is it for you!"  Woo and Hoo.

Afterwards I headed to the office for a meeting with our CEO, followed by a 3-course lunch at a very expensive restaurant.  I admit that after lunch I wanted nothing more than to ditch my stupid white pants in the street and walk home naked.  Almost.

Seriously, I was starting to cramp up and I don't know if it was the ovulation pains or the IUI's or the tight pants or just too much food or a combination of everything, but it hurt!

By 5pm, I felt like a waddling, stuffed platypus making her way down the streets.  It hurt so much to walk that old ladies were passing me.  Slowly I made my way to my acupuncturist for some post IUI needle-lovin' who once again gushed that I am her poster child for a most excellent cycle on Cl.omid.

All this talk is making my head big and has me thinking that I might actually get pregnant.  It's a nice feeling and a dangerous feeling all at the same time.

Now I'm just chilling at home with the cats...waiting for the night to come and my love flies back home to me.

67 Kids, 25 Minutes

K and I have been talking about how Manhattan (NYC in general) is on a baby boom. The economy has been great and more people than ever are deciding to forgo the suburbs and stay in the city once they have kids.
We live in a great area for children, surrounded by at least 8 kid-friendly parks, green spaces, riverside esplanade, bike trails, etc. We love it here and can’t wait to have a baby and raise it in the city.
But it makes not having a baby difficult when you are TTC. This morning, just for shits and giggles because I think the progesterone is seriously spinning me a mindf*uck, I decided to count how many kids I passed on my morning walk to work.
67 Kids under the age of five. How depressing. I know I missed some because I passed three parks and it’s impossible to count all the kids.

By the time I give birth they’ll have raised our rent so high we won’t even be able to afford to live here. (There is no cap for apartments rented under market rate in NYC. Rent control ended in 1998 and now anything over $2,000 is fair game for rent hikes. We’ve experienced rent hikes as high as 22%. It’s insane. We know.)
To top it all off, my co-worker who is the same age as me, has a precious 14 month old and lives in the same apartments as I do under rent control (she grew up there).
So yeah, she has the baby and pays probably a ¼ of my rent.
Life is unfair sometimes, but at least I look 10 years younger than her.  I know that sounds terribly vain and I really don't care.

Did I mention I hate progesterone?  I think K might have been secretly happy to get on the plane this morning and not have to deal with my moodiness again until Friday!  Sorry baby, I know I'm a handful!