Squirrels Falling From Trees

Yesterday I was walking to work through Madison Square Park.  This is a beautiful park with loads of green space, tall leafy trees and tons of squirrels.  You can even find them trying to eat banana peels!

My mind was swimming with thoughts of all I'd gone through the past weekend and wondering what my protocol for the next cycle would be when suddenly I heard:

CRASH! THUMP! KERSPLAT!

In front of me lay a squirrel crumpled on the pavement having fallen from the tree above me. Our eyes locked as his body twitched.  Horrified, I looked around this normally busy park to find someone who had witnessed this crazy event.  A woman came up behind me and I pointed to the poor squirrel.  She remarked that she'd heard the crash and we both stood on the path speechless.

"This is a bad omen, an ominous beginning to my day", I worried out loud....

And then the little guy gave a big jerk, righted himself up and scampered over the grass, just like that.

The woman, this perfect stranger, put her hand on my arm and looking me in the eye said, 

"It's not a bad omen.  It just means that sometimes we fall down.  And when we do, we need to pull ourselves together, get back up and carry on again."

Bidding me a nice day she walked away.

This is Not a Belly Shot

Of a pregnant woman.

This is a belly shot of a woman who has just been told she was probably a little bit pregnant and it just didn't stick.  So, I guess I was right about getting pregnant in May...sort of.

The red-headed, fat lady is currently singing her heart out and that's all there is to say.

I've had so many phone calls today and well wishes from both internet land and people I know in real life.  To know that so many people care about me and love me has made this day not just bearable but ultimately one where at feel at peace.

Right after getting the news, a friend made a special trip to the park to bring me wine and sit with K and I awhile.

Then, 2 more people showed up and 2 more...people came and went throughout the afternoon.

K and I made dinner and we ended the evening with a picnic in the park and a new group of friends.

This week I'll have to talk to my RE and see where do we go from here.  I'm scared as hell to go on meds not because of putting drugs in my body per se, but because of the risk of multiples. My body can safely handle one baby.  My RE has said I 'could' carry twins, but that I will be high-risk.  In two weeks, I turn 39, so I'm already on the edge of risky territory right there.

No one said this journey would be easy...

Thanks for all of your messages and comments and phone calls and love.

I feel it and it means a lot to me.

Madness in the Toilet Stall

We took the world's longest walk yesterday, starting at 18th and the East River and took the esplanade all the way down to the lower tip of Manhattan, did a bit of sitting meditation in front of the Statue of Liberty, then headed up the West side on the Hudson River, passing Battery Park City.

We made another stop at the marina in front of the World Financial Center (where the WTC towers used to be), where we ate dinner as we watched a glorious sunset and then continued up the west side esplanade to the West Village, crossing over at 11th Street and walking across Manhattan to go back home where we started over 5 hours earlier.

Exhausted, but with a clear head, we discovered we'd walked almost 8 miles!

This morning there has been alot more blood and clots as well, madness in the toilet stall!  This happened 3 different times and I was trying to be all zen and not worry, but suddenly I was overwhelmed with the most incredible nausea.  I'd been in the middle of making breakfast and everything was fine, when BAM.  It hit me like a wave.  I grabbed the trash can and collapsed on the couch covered with sweat and chilling.  Ten minutes later...totally fine.

I called my nurse and she has assured me that there's no way it could be an ectopic (good news) but could tell me nothing else.

There are only 2 possibilities:

• I'm pregnant (yes, please, I'll take one baby, thank you)
  
• I'm having my period (never had a period this early, this type AND my temp is still elevated)

Today, we are running errands and laying around in the park...

Tomorrow, I go for a blood pregnancy test at 8am!  

By noon on Monday I will know 100% what is going on!

Still Spotting

And freaking out.  It's not AF, but it's not normal.  It comes and it goes now for almost 4 days.

I broke down this morning and took a test...BFN...but with a possible faint second line.

We went to brunch and in the bathroom I was SURE I had started my period, then came home and nothing!

This is maddening!!!!

I'm playing Dr. Google and while there's loads of information, it's all different.

My nurse called me back yesterday and encouraged me to try to wait until at least Monday if not Tuesday to test (which of course I failed to wait!).

K is really doing her best to keep my spirits up, be supportive, keep me from buying a pregnancy test and talking to me about our future vacation plans--that always takes my mind off of bad things!

Thinking of Bali, not going to test, thinking of Bali, not going to test....

Going on a long, long walk now....goodbye internets.

How Long Can You Stare at the Crotch of Your Panties?

Crotch.  What a word and not a very attractive one, either.  Most words that are ugly in English usually end up sounding great in French, but this one fails me "organ genitale" is roughly what is translates to and I don't find much comfort in this either.

But let's get back to my crotch, shall we?

For the first time, I *think* I'm having symptoms.  Like spotting.  I mean, something is going on and it's not normal...and spotting is the closest description I can provide without completely grossing out my gay, male readers (and yes, I do have a few believe it or not!).  If indeed this is what's happening then it could well be implantation bleeding that I'm seeing a bit of and that would be right on target as it's 9DPO...or AF is rearing her bloody head and bearing down upon me--Really F*cking Early--a week early.

Of course, I'm hoping for the former for obvious reasons and if it's the latter, not only will I feel let down once again by AF's arrival, but also more distraught than ever as it will mean my cycle is incredibly out of whack.

I'm also having a bit of cramping, more yesterday than today....and I can't be sure if it was because my 12 pound cat had just stepped squarely on them or what, but I'm pretty sure my breasts are more tender than normal.

Fatigue has also been present.  I've been in meetings for the last two days and found myself yawning non-stop, really fighting to stay awake.  Now, one one hand, it could just very well be that because I have relatives staying in my house and we are staying up later than usual and I don't sleep as well with guests....OR....it could be THE FATIGUE.  

Whatever it is, I left work early yesterday, came home and took a nap.  I never do that.  Never.

As I sat on the toilet last night...pondering this new found symptom, I reached down for my last pregnancy test strip.

I got a package of them for free and have one left...turning it over I found the expiration date, 5/08.

I'm taking that as a good sign!

A Shot in the Stomach

Last night I had to give my cousin, who is squatting on my couch for three days, a shot in her stomach.

I didn't want to do it, but she couldn't/wouldn't do it herself and neither would her daughter.

That left me.

I said, "well, if I ever have to do injectables and/or IVF, this will give me an idea of what I'll have to do to myself."

Right after that I thought, "I think I've cursed myself.  Does this mean I'm going to be doing this?"

And for the first time all week, I felt not pregnant.

It's 7DPO and I know it's too early to tell one way or another and I really try SO hard not to obsess over every twinge or temp rise, but I felt for the first time ever this month I really could be pregnant this time.  I never felt that way with IUI #1 or #2....but this one had possibilities...until that shot in the stomach.

The shot wasn't so bad, I could do it to myself if I had to, but I'd much rather I didn't...

Pole Dancing and Jayson Williams

Last year on my birthday, K had a surprise party for me at my favorite Thai restaurant in Queens. We had such a great night having delicious food in the patio garden, but then it got even better.

My friend J is a pole dancing instructor for Shelia Kelley’s S Factor. And she’s quite the exhibitionist (along with being somewhat of a devout Christian/Jesus freak and somehow those two things just don’t seem to go together, do they??), but still…we didn’t expect her to spontaneously ‘change’ into her pole dancing panties on the freaking subway platform in order to show us her skillz on the N train.

But she did. And her skills are AMAZING. They delighted not only our crew, but the entire subway car who mostly sat silenced with mouths agape.

What does this have to do with Jayson Williams? Absolutely nothing.

But to illustrate that random, strange, spontaneous things happen in my NYC life and that is how I ended up having drinks with Jayson Williams, former NBA basketball player and oh, right, the guy who may or may not have killed his bodyguard a few years back (he was acquitted, but hey so was O.J.).

K and I had dinner with two girlfriend’s on Saturday night at Suba on the Lower East Side. We had a 9:15 reservation and for an HOUR they told us that they were ‘getting the table ready’. They offered us champagne and then cocktails (and I can’t have either!!!) and then appetizers on the house before we were finally sat at 10:30pm. I sat on the banquette side and was ridiculously close to the table next to me, a 4-top full of BIG, LOUD men. I pay no attention.

Seriously, sometimes I am obliviously blind when it comes to spotting famous people. I can be out with friends and they will point out ‘there’s Liv Tyler, there’s Mario Batelli’ and then I realize it. But by myself, not so much. So when I notice that K and C were whispering and sending glances…and hey so was that table next to them…I figured someone at the table just inches from me was ‘someone famous’. Which one, I didn’t know, but it turns out it’s the one with his large, long leg inches away from mine. Never one to be deterred, I simply put my hand on his leg and said “Hi, sorry to bother you, but I know that you’re someone famous, but I really don’t know who you are and my friends (who are mortified at this point) and I are trying to figure it out.”

Ever so gracious for someone 6’10” he leaned in, introduced himself and then said, “But you’re someone, too. Who are you?”

Without going into all the boring details, he proceeded to keep up the flirtatious conversation, sent over a very expensive bottle of wine (that I couldn’t drink!!) and after dinner invited us to the back room to have drinks with he and his group. By the end of the night, he’d paid for everything, including our dinner, asked my friend C if she would have sex with him (the answer-no-and I don’t think he’s used to that!), talked about Freud, women and what they want, his relationship woes and other things too graphic and scandalous to mention.

It was a fascinating night not only because I've never been part of someone's entourage and it was an interesting way to spend what could have been a very routine dinner and dancing with friends, but also because here’s a guy who grew up on the Lower East Side, rose to stardom for this amazing talent, is worth $87 million, but at the end of the day wonders if his own wife really loves him or is just with him for his money. Sad.

K and I walked home, in heels as there were no cabs to be had, soaked our feet in epsom salts and were happy to not be rich and famous.

You can read C's take on the evening here.

And how was your Saturday night?