5dp5dt

Went for a walk. Came back. Went to the bathroom. Found little brown spots on pantyliner. Cried. 

I want to stay positive and keep praying my little acrobat is sticking around and growing. I want to be hopeful and trust that some spotting is normal and doesn't mean this circus performance was a failure. 

Wipe the tears off my face. Cross my fingers hard and whisper: Please, little acrobat, grow.

Nurse Inga's Don'ts

On transfer day when Nurse Inga was telling us about the dos and don'ts she told me: "You won't have any symptoms of pregnancy before your HPT so don't go around trying to feel if anything is different". I told her I was already feeling knocked up because of the progesterone induced boob soreness and that I'd try to not drive myself crazy. And I'm not. Really. But I can't help but noticing things that are out of the ordinary, right? I'll share if you promise not to tell Nurse Inga...

• Yesterday I had cramps. Or more like a pulling tightness in my lower abdomen. 

• I also came home from the store with pineapple juice. I've never drank that before, I'm more of an OJ or Cranberry kind of gal. ???

• Last night I slept TEN hours! and could've easily kept going if it wasn't for the Dogster wanting to go out and pee.

• Today I had a nose bleed. I've never had one before so that's a little weird.

I'm sure those are all signs of me slowly becoming a looney toon. But maybe, just maybe, they're also signs of a little acrobat growing inside of me.

Welcome home little acrobat

Last night we flew back to England. Not just me and D, we had a little extra something on board.

Sunday me and D went up to Gothenburg for the transfer. Driving up in pouring rain we were still anxiously waiting to hear the status of our acrobats. I was under the impression the clinic would call us at eleven (an hour before our appointment) to let us know. But eleven came and went and the cell phone was quiet. D tried to make me call them but I refused. Until I realized we were going to be a few minutes late. I dialed the number. And got the answering machine! 

At 12.05 we spun into the parking lot, ran to the locked front door but managed to slid in behind a couple that just got buzzed in. Nurse Inga was waiting for us inside. After apologizing for our tardiness I bombarded her with questions: "Do we have any good looking emryos? Will we get to do a transfer today? Do we have anything for the freezer?" She just smiled and said: "You're here aren't you? We would've called by eleven if there had been bad news." I let out a big sigh of relief and then I asked her another thousand or more questions. She asked me to be patient until Doctor Doodle could tell us the details.

I changed into the fabulous circus costume (gown, socks and hair net) and the doc arrived before I finished buttoning up. He started telling us what we already knew but with some added details. All my eight eggs had been mature and Ds swimmers extracted from the testies had all looked normal and healthy. Five out of the eight eggs had fertilized. He then continued by telling us the news we'd been dying to hear. He said four of the five fertilized eggs had divided nicely, two had slowed down Saturday but there was still a chance they would continue to develop and be ready to freeze on day six, and two had reached blastocyst stage Sunday morning. One to transfer and one for the freezer. Great news!! Doctor Doodle said he was very pleased with the result and told us we should have a good chance of success.

He asked us if we were ready and then we all walked into the theatre. We met Kristina the Embryologist and I got up on the stirrup throne. As I lay there with the ultrasound wand on my belly I heard Kristina the Embryologist open a door and shuffle something around before she exclaimed: "Oh, my goodness". My heart skipped a beat and I envisioned a smashed petri dish with our precious blastocyst splattered on the floor. Then the live feed from the lab came up on the screen and Doctor Doodle echoed: "Oh, my!". And there it was, our little acrobat. 

Doctor Doodle explained that this is what they like to see and that our blastocyst was at a perfect stage to transfer. He pointed out the gray mass forming on the top right inside the circle and said it was a good sign. Without further ado he then inserted the catheter, Kristina the Embryologist came in with our acrobat and then the transfer happened. He showed us the drop of nutritional fluid containing the embryo on the ultrasound and when Kristina the Embryologist had made sure the catheter was empty he told us we were free to go. They both wished us the best of luck and on our way out Nurse Inga told us to "break a leg". 

We were in and out of the clinic in less than half an hour. I felt like everything had happened at warp speed and had to take a moment with D before we started our two hour drive back. We kissed and shared a nervous laugh and then just sat in silence for a few minutes listening to the radio. On the way home I got this intense feeling of calm happiness and a single thought appeared in my mind: "Välkommen lilla frö". It's swedish and translates loosely to "Welcome home little acrobat". 

Now all we can do is keep our fingers tightly crossed and wish for a miracle. Hatch, attach and grow, little acrobat, grow!

Ten fingers and ten toes

I have my fingers crossed. 

For five little acrobats dividing in a warm place. 

For a successful transfer tomorrow. 

For a big fat positive in a couple of weeks. 

For a successful pregnancy and textbook delivery. 

For a healthy baby. 

For a beautiful life for our child. 

I also have my toes crossed. 

For all of the above. 

For all of you. 

In whatever way possible. 

Join me.

Love

Unexpected revelations.

A few months ago I had a major melt down. I found out that four of my coworkers at my first agency job were expecting their first child. All of them successful women and men ranging from their mid-thirties to mid-forties. I wasn't upset because I didn't think they deserve the happiness of having a family. It was more that I thought they were happy without children. In the back of my mind I had used them as positive role models in case I was never able to have a child of my own. And now I was suddenly robbed of said role models. Of course I was happy for them but the selfish little girl that lives in my chest was bawling her eyes out, screaming "it's not fair!". 

Over the course of the past weeks since we joined the circus I've posted cryptic status updates on facebook. Things like "... has a bruised belly, ... has retrieved the magic number eight, ... has five little sparks of hope". So people that know that we're going through our first IVF gets an update and it's still vague enough so people who don't know won't get it. 

Wednesday I got an email from one of the before mentioned coworkers (who had her beautiful baby girl in September) saying she had followed my daily updates and was hoping everything's okay. I wrote back telling her what was going on, about the circus and that we had just gotten the news of our five fertilized eggs. Here's what she replied: 

Hi Circus Princess (all names have been changed),

I had a feeling.....only because I just went through it myself. (They were able to extract 6 eggs from me — 3 of which fertilized.)

We had been seeing a specialist and trying different things for 8 months. Each time the treatment didn't work so he continued to get more aggressive. That led us to our first round of IVF last December. (A week before the procedure, I landed in the ER with an asthma attack. Not good.) The odds were completely against us... a 20% chance. And it actually worked. The Dr. was even surprised. Little Miss V is a result of that IVF.

I COMPLETELY understand how difficult this is. Physically and mentally exhausting. I don't know how I got through the shots!! All so fresh in my mind.

Hang in there. Most of all, relax and stay positive. Best of luck to you!!!

Big hug, T

When I finished reading it felt like something inside me had healed and that I had gotten one of my role models back in a completely unexpected way.  Her story gave me more than hope. It also opened a door to a new friendship.

Meanwhile I'm trying my best to not go nuts about not knowing how our five little acrobats are doing. Relaxing, staying positive and embryo whispering: Divide and conquer, little acrobats, divide and conquer.

And then the phone rang

I woke up this morning at six. Got up and inserted progesterone where the sun don't shine. Went back to bed and read a few pages in my book until the letters bounced around on the page. D woke me up again at eight with a kiss and asked if I was hungry. Got up and had some juice and a yummy cheese and marmalade sandwich D had made - did I mention I have the most wonderful Hubster in the world? 

At nine thirty the phone rang and I nearly fell off the chair. It was Farmor and she just wanted to chat for a while. Pheuw! At ten-ish D and Pappa went to play golf. I helped Mamma start tonight's roast and fold some laundry while trying to not obsess about the phone. Eleven o'clock came and went and I started feeling a little hopeful that maybe, just maybe, the phone wouldn't ring. 

Eleven thirty loud ringing pierced the silence and I threw myself on the phone. A familiar voice said: "Circus Princess, this is nurse Inga." I held my breath and braced myself for bad news. "You know we don't normally call with good news... but I thought I'd make an exception for you so your husband don't fly back to England without knowing the results." Pause. "Are you there?" I managed to make some sort of noise and she continued: "We have five fertilized embryos!". 

I screamed, I laughed, and I cried and I hardly heard what she said after that. I rushed over to my Mamma and gave her a big hug. Finally I inhaled and composed myself enough to let her finish telling me how from now on they would leave the embryos alone to make their magic and not check on them until Sunday morning before transfer to decide which one has the best chance of success. I thanked her excessively before we hung up and immediately called D to tell him the good news. He laughed and said: "I guess that means I need to look into changing my return ticket. I would like to be there when my wife gets pregnant." Then I called my sister. She screamed as loud as I did. Now I can't seem to wipe this big smile off my face. I imagine the cells multiplying and turning into strong, healthy blastocysts while I whisper to my fantastic five: Divide and conquer, little acrobats, divide and conquer.

Keeping my fingers crossed while hugging my belly.

This will be a short post because the couch is screaming for me to come and lay down. Today was the big get-the-goods-out-day. And it was painful. Ouch! And double ouch for the Hubster! D ended up having a TESA instead of a PESA because they couldn't find any swimmers in his epididdythingy. They had to poke his boys six times to get what they were looking for. Not a nice surprise and all we can do is hope and pray that the swimmers they found in his testies will be up for the job. 

The retrieval would have been amazing if only I hadn't been the one in the stirrups. We got to see the follies being emptied on the u/s screen and then the eggs on a live feed from the lab. Well, D saw it all, I was busy trying to breathe and ignore the intense pressure/pain in my abdomen. They did give me some happy juice before they started but not nearly enough. And by the end of the procedure the Juice-nurse was practically sitting on my belly trying to push down my uncooperative left ovary and hence couldn't administer more drugs for practical reasons. Dr. Boss Lady was determined and didn't give up on my leftie. Both our procedures took less than half an hour and we both lived to tell the story. And they got eight eggs! YAY!

This afternoon they were introduced to each other and tomorrow morning we'll find out how many fertilized... or if we don't hear anything we'll know five or more made it. If five or more fertilize we'll do a day five transfer, if less make it we'll transfer on Thursday. So let's hope we don't hear a peep. My inside is bubbling with so many emotions I don't quite know how to deal with it. Just trying to quiet all the negative thoughts, relax and breathe. Repeat mantra and picture beautiful cells dividing. Make magic, little acrobats, make magic!

Good bye belly pokers

Last night I gave myself the final shot of the cycle. I was so nervous about missing the given time of 7.30pm I must have checked my instructions at least ten times and cross referenced at least three watches and two clocks. At 7.30pm SHARP I plunged one little trigger shot called Ovitrelle into my bruised belly to make all the follies mature into beautiful shining eggs. I need to think of a good mantra that makes the eggs mature just enough for retrieval tomorrow morning and not enough to be released. Also, I need the ovaries to be easy to find and easy to work with. I'll paint a picture in my mind of shiny, perfect spheres bobbing around inside my stomach waiting to be harvested. Mature & wait, little eggs, mature & wait. 

I'm actually surprised how fast the days of shots have gone by and how relatively pain-free it's been. The trick for me has been to have Hubster or Mamma count to three with a loud emphasis on THREE and then stab the needle in without hesitation. Once it's in, it's fine. There's been some bruising from hitting blood vessles and some stinging/itching from the Orgalutran but all in all it's been a piece of cake. Not to say I won't be happy about not having to take any shots tonight, because that will be sweet, but it's been easier than I thought.

I wish I had taken pictures of the snow that fell Friday but I got caught in the moment and missed the opportunity because the snow didn't cover the land for more than a couple of hours. Sorry I couldn't share the beauty with you. It was truly spectacular. 

Tomorrow morning is retrieval time. Our scheduled doctor is our original consulting RE, Dr. Boss Lady. I'm pleased. I'm confident she won't have as many problems as Dr. Doodle did getting my left ovary to cooperate. She's persistent and firm like that. She'll start with the Hubster, hook him up with some good drugs and assault his dudes. The plan is to perform PESA. Dr. Boss Lady is confident she'll get good results considering D has fathered three girls before the vasectomy and reversal. Then it's my turn to get juiced up (please let the meds knock me out) and strapped into the old stirrup throne for harvest time. I hope they find a bunch of perfect, shiny eggs and a mother load of supreme shiny swimmers. I hope they learn to dance and make magic and that we get at least one perfect little acrobat to put back on Sunday. I'm nervous. And excited. Filled with hope. And scared shitless.

And the snow started falling

I've spent the past 4 days silently repeating the mantra grow, follies, grow in my head and picturing a landscape of green growth in my ovaries. Today I went to Gothenburg for my second ultrasound and, ladies and peeps, we have 6 good looking follies on the right and the left side is sporting two big ones (and probably a few more hiding since Dr. Doodle still had problems getting a good view of my leftie). Dr. Doodle told me the lining looks good and is ready for a little acrobat, and that he wants me to take Gonal-F and Orgalutran for 2 more days, trigger with Ovitrelle on Sunday and be ready for retrieval on Tuesday morning. I was so happy and relieved I practically twirled out of the exam room.

Nurse Inga went over the detailed instructions for me and the Hubster (who needs to wash his dudes with special soap and give them a clean shave - whoot!) and gave me two little surprises. First surprise was that our scheduled transfer day has been postponed to Sunday since retrieval was pushed forward one day. Remember the thing about non-refundable tickets? Yup, our tickets home are for Sunday. Oops! But as I'm taking a big chunk out of that sour apple she brings out the second surprise in an orange bag from behind the desk. One 300IE shot of Gonal-F and one Orgalutran on the house! Nurse Inga rocks! I was not looking forward to having to cough up another six-seven hundred dollars for meds today on top of having to buy a new plane ticket. What a completely wonderful thing to get, I had to restrain myself from kissing and squeezing her. She probably wouldn't have appreciated that affection with the swine flu red alert thing going on in Sweden so instead I thanked her from the bottom of my heart. I left the fertility centre with a big smile on my face. And then the snow started falling. The first snow of the year covering trees still filled with yellow and red leaves with an icy white blanket. Absolutely gorgeous.

Tomorrow I'm going to pick up D at the airport. I'm looking forward to covering him in big wet kisses. Life is good and I feel hopeful. Did I write that out loud? Yes. I feel hopeful.

First count

I'm in Sweden, typing away at my Mammas laptop in the kitchen. I'm sitting in a quiet sleeping house trying desperately to stay positive.

This morning Mr. Sister (BIL) gave me and Mamma a ride to Gothenburg. We arrived early for my 12 o'clock appointment so we walked around town for an hour before taking a cab to the clinic. Got to the clinic in time and went in for my first ultrasound to make sure we're producing follicles galore. Of course I am. Right? Saw a different doc from last time who shook my hand and asked me to drop trou. So I did. Like a good girl. Then he brought out the dildo cam. In front of my Mamma. Thank goodness she's a retired nurse. Dr. Doodle started looking around but soon asked me if , by chance, I needed to go urinate. He said he couldn't see much because of my full bladder... I wasn't really aware of the fact that I had to pee again, I had been once since I arrived at the clinic but quickly proceeded to down a gallon of water. So I jumped out of the stirrups, threw undies and jeans back on and ran to the loo to relieve my bladder of what was obstucting Dr. Doodles view. Back into the room, jumped out of panties and jeans for the second time and bounced back into the stirrups. After some fiddling around he found my right ovaries and started counting and measuring... First follie was 14mm, second a staggering 15 and third was 12... I waited... and that was it for the right side. WTF?? Neither I or Dr. Doodle were too thrilled about that and he immediately upped my dose to 300IE of Gonal-F a day. On to the left. Waiting. Nothing. Lots of doodleing and fiddling and mucking about but nothing. Dr. Doodle couldn't find my left frickin' ovary!! Double WTF? He said it happens and it's probably just that there's no big follicles on that side... What? That's supposed to make me feel... relieved? What? He told me not to worry about it, increase the dose and add a shot of Orgalutran to the mix and come back Friday to check for progress. He told me that even if they're only able to retrieve three they could all be star eggs and we'd have great chances and that if they did find eggs on the left side during retrieval those would just be bonus eggs. Wasn't sure if I should laugh hysterically or cry.

The rest of the day my sweet Mamma did a pretty good job distracting me by dragging me in and out of stores, feeding me lots of bad yummy things and asking my advise on about two thousand winter jackets she tried on. We rode the train home and was greeted by Sister and Nephew at the house. My nephew kept up the good work of distracting me by playing peek-a-boo, reading stories (me, not him, he's only 15 months old) and giving lots of snuggles. He kept me busy 'til he basically fell asleep running. At ten it was time to do the bigger shot and introducing the new shot. The new shot hurt like a MOFO and my poor belly got all red and itchy. And then they all went to bed. And I called D. And I cried.

Three little follicles. Please grow. Please tell your buddies to grow. Please. Love, Your Mommy

Awards Galore

Thank you Illinare for the Honest Scrap Award :-)

Rules: Reveal 10 things not previously known about you, and pass along the award to others. 

Sorry about the random things listed, my head is still feeling "fuzzy".

1. I never wanted to get married and never dreamt of a white wedding.

2. I married my husband six months after we started dating. And then again six months later. Both times on the beach.

3. I landed my dream job right out of college but had to give it up for my husbands Navy career :-(

4. I run a graphic design business that's been put on hold since the move to Europe.

5. I hate the expressions "you think too much" and "maybe it's not meant to be".

6. When I get a compliment I feel like I cheated somehow and will be found out at any given moment.

7. I love my husband to pieces and would do anything for him. Squeeze pimples on his back? No problem!

8. I've never been broken up with. When/if I feel the "break up vibe" I hit the road.

9. I've broken up with a best friend. It hurt more than some romantic break-ups and I have no contact with her today.

10. I'm really good at getting lost. Even with Tom-Tom in the car giving me directions.

I would like to share this with:

cats with passports 

Endo-a-Go-Go

Who shot my stork

Trying to get knocked up by another man...

Learning to swim in a sea of baby bumps 

And thank you WannabeMommy for the Kreativ Blogger Award 

Here are the rules that accompany this esteemed honor:

1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award - check

2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog. - check

3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award. - check

4. Name 7 things about yourself that people may not know.

5. Nominate 7 Kreativ Bloggers.

6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominate.

7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they’ve been nominated.

And here's  another seven things you don't yet (but are about to) know about me:

1. My cat and dog both have passports. They're bona fide globetrotters. 

2. I'm multilingual. Swedish and english really well (unless I'm really tired or drunk), french like a five year old and spanish like a two year old. My pets understands both english and swedish. My Hubster knows only swedish dirty words.

3. I'd move back to Hawai'i in a heartbeat if I could convince D and the rest of our families to move with us.

4. When we got our Dogster we were told he was a Bull Mastiff. He's not. Unless he's part chihuahua. Mastihuahua.

5. Our cat adopted us. She moved over from our neighbors when they separated. Brought her little bags and said "I'm moving in folks".

6. I went to Cannes for the film festival in 1994 and got kidnapped by a crazy french couple but managed to escape by outsmarting them. They were dumb. And evil.

7. I was born with a "fire mark" on my left shoulder. It's no longer bright red but still a little bumpy.

I'd like to pass on this award to:

Our Surrogacy Adventure

The Mis-Adventures of a Modern Day Farmer's Wife

Can I get some sugar with these lemons

Donor Eggs Journey

Everyone else but me

Tales of my Follies

Peanut Noodle

I feel "fuzzy"

I'm a light weight when it comes to drugs. Probably because I grew up in a socialistic country with public, free healthcare that believes that the remedy "go home and sleep it off" works with most ailments. I had never really taken anything stronger than baby aspirin before I came to the U.S. in my mid twenties. Well, aside from antibiotics and when I had surgery, but you know, for headaches and colds and such. The first time I caught a cold in Hawaii my college room mates told me to take some NightQuil. So I did, went to bed and slept for 24 hours and woke up with a terrible hang-over. My room mates were terrified! After that episode I went back to "sleeping things off" naturally whenever I caught a cold. Until a few years ago when I started getting severe cramps with the Bloody Monster, I then popped 800mg Motrin like candy and still couldn't get out of bed. The culprit turned out to be a 1.5 cm polyp blocking my cervix and has since been removed and my periods are now as good as pain free. So thankfully this past year I've been back to my old habits of not taking any painkillers, cold medicins or what have you. But you can't join the circus au naturel, now can you?

Since I started taking the Gonal-F injections Wednesday night I've had an increasing sensation of feeling "fuzzy"... It's like my brain is surrounded by cotton. I don't know if it's related to the hormones or if it's some side effect of being a little stressed. I also seem to be a little off, kind of like moving and thinking in slow motion but being fully aware of it. Could it be I'm high on estrogen? I drink water like it's going out of style too. Had almost 3 liters yesterday and was constantly thirsty. Is this normal, does anyone know?

On another note, I just received an Honest Scrap Award from Illinare and a Kreative Blogger Award from WannabeMommy - Thank you girlies! Selecting 12 bloggers to nominate for these awards will be easy and I'll post 17 things not previously known about me as soon as I can get my fuzzball head to think of something fun or exciting to say. 

One down, seventeen or so to go

Last night I introduced my virgin stomach to Mr. Needle. I decided early that I was going to make the introductions at 21.30 and all day was a count down even though I tried hard not to think about it. I did a bunch of things to distract myself and to try to make time go a little faster. I cleaned out my closet. Replaced cute summer skirts and cotton flowery tops with wooly sweaters and more fleece pants. I started a magazine project that isn't due in another few weeks. Walked the Dogster twice as far as I normally would. Made an elaborate dinner for D. Did research on images and ideas for the childrens book I'm working on. And I watched too much TV. In spite of all this when evening finally rolled around I had just finished reading the how-to-shoot-yourself-with-Gonal-F instructions for the eleventh time. I opened the fridge at exactly 20.30 to take out the meds and bring them to room temperature (thanks for that advise dear internet peeps). Then I watched Project Runway for half an hour and when that was over we started watching House. At 21.25 we paused dr. House mid sentence spewing rudeness and went to prep the injection pen. 

INSTRUCTIONS (now known by heart from excessive reading)

• Remove cover and place a new needle on pen - clicking sound ensures it's in place

• Set the dose dial at the 37.5 IE mark. Pull out the injection button - you will hear a click

• Remove outer and inner needle cover and point pen up in the air

• Press injection button all the way in and make sure a drop of fluid exits the needle point

• Exchange nervous glance with Hubster

• Set the dose dial at the 225 IE mark. Double check. Triple Check

• Pull out injection button to load the pen and check again that you have the correct dose set

• Go sit down in comfy chair

• Select previously circled right area of stomach (right seemed easier to start with than left...)

• Have Hubster count to three

• Introduce Mr. Needle (ie. stab yourself) and press down the injection button all the way to experience weird tingling sensation when meds enter your body

• Count to ten before removing needle from stomach and then safely dispose of needle

• Exhale and give Hubster high-five

All in all the whole ordeal took less than 2 minutes and was virtually painless. The rest of the night I kept trying to feel if anything was different, if there were any side effects. Did I have some tingling in the right side of my body? Did I suddenly have some more cramps? Nah, nothing really. Was that the beginning of a headache? No, just needed to let hair down from ponytail. Cotton mouth? Went away when I had a drink of water. Dizziness? I'm sure it had nothing to do with nerves or anticipation.

So yeah, taking that first shot was a piece of cake and I can easily do that for another ten days or so. Bring it on!

I guess this also qualifies as todays "show & tell" so check out what others are showing here.

Tonight's the night

I think the Bloody Monster must have read my post yesterday because as soon as I had finished writing she arrived with a bang. And for the first time in a very long time I was absolutely thrilled to see her. Her arrival means we're finally joining the circus! I threw myself on the phone and called my REs office in Sweden to tell them the great news. "Nurse Inga" chuckled when she heard my excitement and quickly proceeded to give me the schedule of events. - I'm to start taking 225 mg of Gonal-F every night tonight. Come in for ultrasound and blood work on the 12th (good news, since my non-refundable ticket to Sweden is on the 11th - phew!) and start adding a daily shot of Orgalutran that evening. Come in for a second ultrasound on the 16th and be ready for egg retrieval and sperm aspiration on the 19th (more good news since Ds non-refundable ticket is on the 17th - double phew!). Embryo transfer scheduled for the 23rd and then we're allowed to fly back to England the 25th (which is when, you guessed it, our non-refundable tickets are for - PHEW!). 

I can't believe it's finally here, the month when we actually have a shot at making magic. With a little help from the stork assistants over in Sweden my eggs will meet Ds swimmers for what could very well be the first time. I'm doing a little dance around the office :-)

 

Last night I enjoyed what I hope is my last glass of Cabernet for a very long time. D and I shared a toast to a successful circus performance. And I'd like to extend that to you my dear blogging friends, thank you for all your wonderful support and advice, lift your beverage of choice and say - Skål (cheers in Swedish) to a successful circus performance to us all :-)

I'm ready

Bring on the Bloody Monster and let's get this show on the road. I've read the instructions and watched the how-to-give-yourself-a-gonal-f-shot video twice. I've circled the area in question on my body. The meds are chilling in the fridge. The phone has my RE's office on speed dial. I'm ready. I'm waiting. I'm a little impatient. And where did my tan go?

This is the week

This is the week we join the circus. I'm supposed to start injecting myself with Gonal-F some time around Thursday depending on when The Bloody Monster makes her appearance. No more virgin belly. No more head in the sand thinking this problem will go away on its own. Holy crap, it's really happening! I'm so overwhelmed with opposing emotions and don't really know how to deal with all this. I'm so happy I could dance and at the same time I have this deep sadness lurking in the background. I'm so full of hope I could burst and at the same time a dark fear of failure is constantly stalking me. In essence these emotions land me on a rocky neutral where I'm constantly at risk for falling. Kind of like walking the tight rope. Wish me luck.

For me?

I had a little surprise waiting for me last time I visited The Farmers Wife  - Thank you! 

This particular award comes with rules... so here goes:

Rules

1. You Can Only Use One Word!

2. Pass this along to 6 of your favorite bloggers

3. Alert them that you have given them this award!

4. Have Fun!

The Fun Part

1. Where is your cell phone? 

Charging (seems like I charge it every other day. I know, one word, but if I write in parenthesis it doesn't count right?)

2. Your hair? 

Blond (with one or two stray grey)

3. Your mother? 

Wonderful (I got the best Mamma in the world)

4. Your father? 

Protective (My husband is the only boyfriend he ever liked and trust me, he let the ones he didn't like know it.)

5. Your favorite food? 

Sushi (and cheese, not together though)

6. Your dream last night?

Coma (last night got later and wetter than expected)

7. Your favorite drink? 

Cabernet (partly to blame for last nights dreamless state of coma)

8. Your dream/goal? 

Published (working on a childrens book)

9. What room are you in? 

Office (future baby room...)

10. Your hobby? 

Reading (watching movies, blogging, playing the piano, singing, drawing, painting, dog whispering)

11. Your fear? 

Sickness (and fake boobs)

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? 

Mother (of hopefully at least one 6 year old)

13. Where were you last night? 

Norwich (had sushi and went bar hopping)

14. Something that you aren’t? 

Angry (not very often)

15. Muffins? 

Nah (not a big fan, I'll take some cheese though)

16. Wish list item? 

Mini (Cooper S)

17. Where did you grow up? 

Sweden (south west)

18. Last thing you did? 

Walked (the Dogster)

19. What are you wearing? 

Fleece pants (yes, the Dr. Seuss ones, and yes they need washed)

20. Your TV? 

Flat

21. Your pets? 

Meow-girl and Pooper (well, that's two of their many nicknames)

22. Friends? 

Yes 

23. Your life? 

Sweet

24. Your mood? 

Happy

25. Missing someone? 

Always (especially that someone that is yet to be conceived)

26. Vehicle? 

Honda

27. Something you’re not wearing? 

Socks

28. Your favorite store? 

TJ Maxx (or TK Maxx like they call it here)

29. Your favorite color? 

Blue

30. When was the last time you laughed? 

Today

31. Last time you cried? 

Last week

32. Your best friend? 

D

33. One place that I go to over and over? 

Bathroom (although not as often as I used to)

34. One person who emails me regularly? 

Cousin F

35. Favorite place to eat? 

Shikis (in Nowich, England, Pio-Pio in Halmstad, Sweden, Lanna Thai in Mililani, HI and Ivar's in Mukilteo, WA)

And here are the six blogs I'd like to award:

Trying to get knocked up by another man

Our Surrogacy Adventure

Can I get some sugar with these lemons

Heeeeere Storkey, Storkey

Yes, We're Parents

Fertility Foibles