Lesbian trauma at the bridal store.

Every girl from an early age is programmed to start thinking of her wedding. The "man" she will marry, the dress she will wear, the flowers she will buy, and the honeymoon she will take. However, I was never that little girl. I dreamed of cold slides against over sized microscopes, suiting up to work in the deep dark regions of the CDC. Yes, I wanted to be an infectious disease pathologist. I went as far as to kill all my barbie dolls, and "dissect" them in the backyard. I assume several are probably still buried there. Yes, I have always been an odd sort.

So at the first of August Andrea said, "hey babe why don't we go up to Iowa and get married?" I had a deer in the head light moment. Sure, I want to get married. I mean we have the right to, I feel we should exercise it. So what do you need to get married. I fell back onto all those images, my mother had programmed into me as a girl. First, I need a venue (check), second I need a dress.

Now, I consider myself to be fairly feminine under the definitions of our societies constraints. Meaning, sometimes I wear makeup, I can be vain about my hair, and I like big chunky jewelry. Feminine, right? Wrong.

I made an appt. at the local bridal boutique. The call, me "Hi my name is Amber, I need to make an appt to try on dresses." Which in itself is an odd thought to me, an appt to try on clothes. So strange. The clerk, let's call her Deb. Deb says, "Sure, what style do you like? A-line, ball gown, mermaid, ruched? Do you want formal, retro, laid back. Should we talk designers?" Me ".........I want simple, the rest I have no idea." Deb "Oh no worries we can fix you right up."

So the appt was made. I showed up after seeing six patients that day, my braids were askew, I had my 11 yr old daughter with me- who by the way wanted to try on every gown in the store, and it was 108 outside. I looked like a sweaty, tired mess. The clerk ushered us in to a table, where another clerk sat looking like a pristine picture of peace. She had a huge book, and was marking names in it like a person on crack picks at a scab. "Hello Amber, my name is Deb. I will be taking care of you today." Alright, I was thinking I could browse around, pick some dresses try them on. I was unaware I needed help. Also, I suck with help.

Before I knew what was happening I was shoved into a dressing room with a large number on the outside "28" all the rooms had floor to ceiling mirrors on the outside, and the carpet was a deep plush red. It was a cross between a strip joint, and a country club. I stood alone in the room. After awhile Deb came back carrying three bags. Those aren't big enough to be dresses was my first thought. She says, "You are a 38 D right? Here is a corset, and a slip put them on." Ok, a little bossy, but whatever. I start to strip, and Deb pokes her head in. "Excuse me" I say in a huffy voice. Deb says, "Oh just checking on you, turn around let me lace you up." Being half naked, and shoved into the corner, I turned around and let her lace me up. Deb seemed happy that I couldn't breath, and that I had lost all senses of modesty.

Next followed a procession of dresses, some to big that I was pinned into, some too small that wouldn't zip. All the while, I had to march around in front of the large fun house mirrors. While various employees came by to "ooh and ahh" over the selections. Mostly while I was naked in a corset, and slip Deb would take the opportunity to discuss gay rights. She wanted me to know, she didn't care I was marrying a woman, even though she was a christian...and on...and on...and on.

Three hours later I was done. I still had not found a dress that I was comfortable in, or that I liked. I walked away having decided that I am in fact not feminine at all, and that if I never see another bridal shop it will be to soon.

Third times a charm??!!!

I don't even know where I left off, and no, I didn't go back and read my previous post from months ago. So, that said, I'll just give you the current run-down.

I have seriously slacked at writing on this blog. However, I have a great excuse this time. We moved, yet again. Making a grand total of 7 moves in 6 years. I think we should get some sort of lesbian moving award for that.

In March, I took a job with a company in Dallas. So we find ourselves yet again, back in the great state of Tejas. Andrea is beyond happy about this, and the kids have settled in nicely. It feels good to be getting back into a normal routine.

So the dust has settled down, and all the boxes have been put away. We thought we had better get back on the baby wagon again. Since, we have been trying unsuccessfully for months alone, and it's true. Neither my partner or I have sperm. There hasn't been an immaculate conception yet, and all of our efforts to reproduce have ended up with no results. So we thought, it best to go back to the professionals about the issue.  

I had an HSG test back in Feb, I believe it was. Just as I thought, everything was perfectly normal, but hey I just wanted to make sure, that if we spent a small fortune, that all the parts were working right. As it turns out I am a speciment of physical normal-ness.  Good to know, since mentally- I am unstable.

We decided to change sperm donors for our most recent attempt. This will be our 3rd donor I think?? Lost count I guess. Well, let's go back, donor 1: an actual gypsy violin player from California Cryobank, donor 2: a Biologist/football player, also CC, donor 3: is a writer/soccer enthusiast who is also Native American. Number three, you better have some good swimmers!!! I was also, unhappy to find out that CC has increased their rates, a .5-1ml vial will now cost $615 a pop. Insanity! That doesn't include shipping. Wonderful.



So IUI #2 looms before us. If you recall, we did an ICI at home once, just like all you hetero folks do- and we did an IUI at the doctor's office once.  We decided since we were spending a small fortune with every try, that we should probably up our odds as much as possible. So perhaps 3rd time will be a charm?

Here is to hoping!!!







                                                                                   

BFN? WTF?

Wow! So look at what a slacker I have been. When was my last post? I can't even remember. I would like to take this moment to blame the holiday season, on my absentee blog posts. This week I have received about 10 emails wanting to know about the baby making. I wish it was as simple as whipping up a cake, and sticking it in the oven. I could do that no problem all day long- from scratch. Things never seem that simple in our world.

I should probably take a moment to tell myself to be patient. Alas, patience was never my virtue. I don't like to sit around and wait for things, I am a pro- active type. We started thinking seriously about babies in Sept, my doctor gave us the green light. We thought of trying in October, timing was wrong if you remember.

We bought the goods in Nov- and this was our first attempt. We did an ICI at home (Just like all you straight couples out there.) 11DPO- BFN and AF. :( As you can tell my conception vocabulary has increased two-fold. Mostly because I believe if your going to be good at something, you need to know all the details. I am a detail whore. Andrea thinks I am crazy, I have charts, and graphs. Come on, I was a Biology major its what I do. So after the negative result in late November we decided to wait until after Christmas to try again.

I continued BBT and graphing, the numbers soothe me. Perhaps, I am a tad OCD?

Second try- we are going to the doctor. Mostly because its not cheap making a baby. 1st attempt: $800= 0, multiply that by my anger. Well you get the idea.

Late Dec-

I took clomid cycle day 1-5. What is clomid you ask? Well its an estrogen blocker, what does this do its causes your ovaries to produce more- there by increasing follicle stimulation (eggs). Why would I need it? Well the doctor assures me that its to make more eggs available at the time of IUI. IUI (interuterine insemination) that's right the doctor places a small catheter into the uterus, and deposits the goods. Not so romantic right?

What else does the Clomid do though? It makes me like a lunatic. I am hot/cold/sweaty/depressed/angry/weepy/sick I am like a schizophrenic gone wild. My ovaries hurt, and I threaten to kill people on sight.

Cycle day 11- ultrasound to check follicles. (U/S = $150 a pop in case your keeping tally) Right ovary 4 follicles good size, Left ovary 3 smallish follicles. Most of the time one ovary will make one follicle which turns into one egg. I am thinking the clomid did its job well. I am told to come back in one day, the doctor wants the follicles greater than 18mm.

Cycle day 13- ultrasound ($150) Again 4 great follies, 3 that are almost big enough. I am told we are going to do an HCG trigger shot- which will release the follicles- better for timing and all. Plus three of my follies are greater than 20mm. HCG trigger shot ($105).

Cycle day 14- IUI. We wait with my legs in the air, for a large Jamaican doctor to place the goods. While I am flat on my back with the doctor between my legs, he chooses to talk about child labor, and Walmart. The nurse prefers to talk about my jewelry, she loves it wants to know where I bought it. Ummmm this is a surreal moment. I could possibly be conceiving our child, and this is our conversation. In all of 5 mins the procedure is done, and I am to wait on my back for 20 mins.

So total for the day $375+ $840 for the goods. I think the grand total was $1700 for the whole ordeal.

2WW Did I tell you patience is not my virtue? Yeah- so the HCG trigger shot will supposedly stay in my system for 14 days, causing a false pregnancy test. So not testing!! Yeah right, I POAS on cycle day 4 its negative, so at least I know the trigger shot is gone.

I wait...I wait...we wait.. I HATE THIS!!

10DPO (10 days past ovulation) Horrible cramps, and nausea. Maybe implantation? I want to die, its like contractions during labor it hurts so bad. I have an incredible pain tolerance, once I walked around with a pulmonary embolism for a month, before nearly dying. I can take pain. I feel like something is wrong? My ovaries feel like they are in a vice. I call the doctor...test..testing..I am informed its OHSS- what? Ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome, essentially my ovaries have swelled and collected fluid. Why? Oh the fertility drugs I didn't need. Makes sense.

Can I still be pregnant?? 11DPO- a big fat BFN. I am officially a day late. Surely I am pregnant? 12DPO- a big fat BFN! GRRRR! AF starts. This sucks. So now I am stuck with swollen ovaries, and a uterine lining of 16. Its going to be a lovely cycle.

Andrea and I sit down to talk. I am upset, and she is so calm. Maybe its the drugs? Hers or mine who can tell? I say, "Let's wait to try again until we move." Oh yes, we are moving to Dallas in June. I am tired, my body is revolting. I have walking pneumonia, my ovaries still hurt, and I just am lacking heart. She says, "Babe we can wait, we can go, I am here to do whatever you feel like doing." I love this woman.

So if your still reading, that's the story. We wait. We have some travel plans, and we have to house hunt so I am sure to keep myself busy while we wait.

Side note- I have to go in for an HSG- which is basically like an MRI of my female goods, to see if the swelling in my ovaries is better.

We wait.....

Ask yourself do you feel froggy?

As most of you know we received our y chromosomes last Thursday, from there it has been one long countdown to ovulation. I think a short play regarding sperm delivery should be written:

*Doorbell rings*
(I am upstairs peeing on a stick yet again, Andrea is downstairs- I think she will answer the door)
*Doorbell rings* *knocking*
(Ok Andrea is not going to answer the door- insert Amber running down the stairs before the fed-ex guy leaves)

Amber: (Opens the door slowly)

Fed-ex guy - lets call him Ted: Delivery for Ms. Massey.

Amber: Yep, that's me.

Ted the fed-ex guy: I need a signature, what do you have food in here or something this package is so cold.

Amber: Sure I will sign, nope its a sperm tank.

Ted: Just when I think I have delivered everything- well good luck.

I drag the 22lb, 2 1/2 tall tank inside. Thus, its been sitting in my bathroom for the last four days. I knew upon ordering it that the liquid nitrogen would run out in about a week. I was hoping that my body, would comply early, but no just like me its a stubborn bitch. So I calculated the liters of nitrogen that it leaked daily, it was just about to be empty, and well I needed more time. Plan B find a liquid nitrogen supplier. Well that's easier said than done. I mean I can't just hop in my car and drive down to Walmart and buy liquid nitrogen, most places won't even sale it to you without a license.

After around the 8th call this morning, I found a company that said- yes bring it down we will fill it. So I threw on my scrubs- and headed down with Andrea, and Savannah in tow. By the way Van says she is going to write a book about our family and call it a sperm's tale. She thinks she is funny. I drag the tank down the stairs, and straddle it all the way to the airgas company. What? I am not putting it in the back, it needs to be secure.

I go in the glass doors dragging my tank behind me. A burly man with grease on his hands, ask me if I need help. Ummm yes can you not see the big tank? I say what I need, and John the gas man comes to take my tank. John wants to take the tag off the the cylinder at the top. I have a slight freak out moment, and explain that the contents can not touch room temp. He grins a big toothless grin, I can see him squinting at me behind his welder glasses. "Ma'm" deep southern drawl "I have to take the top off, to put the nitrogen in, I can't pump it through the little valve in the side." Which was my first request. I say, "Yes, I gather that you must pour in the liquid- I am just saying do not expose the contents to air." He snaps the blue tag, and lifts the lid. Andrea is standing by the door arms folded, as if she might jump him for taking the lid off.

So away John goes with our hopes and dreams. In a few mins, he sticks his head in the back door. "Hey whats in this thing, you need medical grade nitrogen?" I say, "Its cryogenic, yes I want medical grade." He shakes his head, "Alright then." In that moment he reminded me of Slingblade- alright then, I like them french fried taters.

Ten minutes later the tank is full. John puts it back in the box for me, and tells me to keep the lid loose. I say, "Yes, I do not want cause and explosion." He said, "Where ya want to put this at in the car?" I say, "I want it up front with me." He laughs a big belly laugh, "Man, you are a brave soul." Look dude you have no idea the size of my balls.

So we go back in to pay, the cashier says- "Your account number please?" Umm what? I say, "I don't have an account, I will pay you cash- you want my name?" He says, "Oh you have to have a license for medical grade nitrogen." Don't mess with man- don't mess with me. I say, "Look- no one said that (I knew that), and my tank is already filled. I will happily leave you my nursing license number, but hell or high water that tank is going home with me filled." So ask yourself do you feel froggy? Andrea is standing in the corner at this point, eyes big. I think she might let me kill this one. After that the cashier got real friendly. $30 dollars later I have a full tank that is safely back in the bathroom, seeping small increments of nitrogen. We are good to go for another week. I don't think it will be that long, but like I said- stubborn bitch.

To kill or not to kill that is the question?

I find it amusing how the straight world often describes the experience of lesbian conception into terms they can understand. I can't tell you how many times a straight person has assumed Andrea and I are making regular trips to the doctor for our IUI, because really, what other way could a lesbian possibly concieve???? My friend actually asked me if anonymous donor sperm comes from some sort of vat. Even though it's impossible, imagine if we got sperm from a vat. No longer would sex be the only mystery.

You would think that urban legend of the turkey baster would have enough power to at least bring the concept of home insemination into the mainstream.

They just don't think about it much. After all, baby making for them is all about getting off the pill and fucking like bunny rabbits. Which is why when we show up with a baby they are amazed and think that baby must have been made by fairy dust and chants under the full moon.

Just this week, I had two people ask me how exactly, we were going to go about getting knocked up? In moments like this I think I should reference my friend Taylor's plan for men on a global scale. She proposed we place men in "libraries" and if you need a lover, need a friend, need some sperm- you just go and check them out like a book. Works for me. Bye Bye boys. :)

Most of the time I just answer the questions politely, and explain options. I have read the stats, every time you try to concieve you have a 20% chance of getting it right, regardless of whether you are in an office or not. So I explain,that I want Andrea to be as involved as possible- I want her to pull that plunger back, and push it in (for lack of a better description).

This week there was a slight melt down on my part- imagine that. It was like a nuclear disaster area, I exploded and for generations people at CCB will be growing extra body parts. I sware most of the time I am really a nice person, just don't mess with the sperm, I can't take it.

We had ordered vials for this go round, only to get a call saying "Oops, we didn't have him in ICI form." LOOK THE CARD CATALOG SPECIFICALLY STATED HE IS CHECKED IN! So I melted down, I spent a small fortune and you don't have want I want??? WHAT!!!

Andrea talked me down off the ledge which she has been doing for days now, thanks to fertility drugs that make me like a serial killer waiting on prey.

My intent to kill has not declined today, after spending yesterday evening in an ER with Van. Is it a prereq that ER docs have zero personality? He even tried discharging us without reading her ultrasound images. WHAT! Excuse me, I have spent 4 not so fun hours perched on a bench in a room that is colder than North Dakota, and you don't have the time to read images? Again- Andrea stepped in, she def is keeping me from commiting a felony this month.

The only thing that helped my sleep deprivation state of being, is a a call from a specialist for Van, and a sperm tracking number (A tall Russia gypsy with blonde hair and brown eyes, like Andrea)- five more days. Five. Best pray for the people around me.

Ps. Lots of luck to two of my lesbian friends who are awaiting results for pregnancy this week!! Much baby dust to you both! :)

When it rains- it comes a monsoon.

Greetings again, from the pine ridden hell of East NC. Ok, so I definitely could use and attitude adjustment this week. As I rolled around with my bad attitude, the universe decided to show me that, in fact- my emotions are not the center of the world. I know, sometimes you are forced to think outside of yourself.

We have worried and counted for three months now with baby planning, trying to get all things perfect. My body was not a very cooperate participant. I finally said, ok I give- its going to happen when it happens, and I cannot control fate. Although, I frequently try to control everything. I would be a nasty dictator if given the option. Of course I do not learn lessons quickly, I have to be beaten within an inch of life to learn my lesson. I realize that stubborn is a character flaw.

So after 10 days of provera, my body finally started to cooperate. All is on track again- and a big tank of sperm will be sent to our house next week. Don't worry I will take pictures, I have never seen a big tank of sperm. So we should be happy right, our ducks are in a row? Life has a funny way of saying "Haha you just thought it worked out."

Earlier this week, as we waited to see if my body would cooperate- Andrea got a call from her Dad. We knew her Dad had to have surgery this week, nothing major- in and out day surgery. However when I came home from work on Monday, all caught up in my counting and baby woes- I found Andrea crying on the couch. I am not one to drag out waiting, I said, "Give it to me just tell me whats wrong?" Turns out her Dad's doctor while screening him for surgery found a mass on his right lung. All the air just sort of sucked out of the room, as I watched her cry. Life has a funny way of telling you to slow down and focus on things right in front of you sometimes. We are waiting for more news of tests and things, but we will be back in Dallas in about three weeks.

After the stress of parent issues- we sat down to reflect. Is this the right time to try? We both decided to keep chugging a long, neither of us are getting any younger. On top of all that, I ended up at the doctor's office with Savannah this week too. She has been having some weird stomach illness for about a month now. They gave her meds, and ran about a million tests, so today I wait to see what is wrong with my baby.

In all this, I can see a message. Cherish those who matter most, give an extra hug to the people you love, be there with them in times of need, don't forget to be thankful in the stillness. Stop you are moving to fast, slow down- all the stuff, and things you buy and do. Do not matter, people matter, family matters.

*If anyone reads this on facebook, please keep Andrea's Dad's condition to yourself. Only a few people know right now. All positive thoughts, and well wishes are greatly appreciated.

Hey Lady!! How U doin?

Today, has to have been the longest day, in the history of days. It actually started last night when I realized Abe had been trying to (successfully I might add) grow fungus on his foot. Due to his attempts to be the dirtiest child in history, he almost managed to rot an entire appendage off. So after 4 hours at the PCP/hospital for xrays- we had a dx of staph infection, without foreign body intrusion. Why does my child refuse to wash his feet? Why?

The rotting flesh of my son's foot just added to the specialness of the day. Today, I finished my last Prometrium pills. I am happy to account that I managed to not actually kill anyone, even though today I had a momentary lapse of judgement when I thought of running down the Boosterthon guy with my car. Have you met the Boosterthon people? Every year the kids have to sale things to raise money that is donated- for what? Not the school, I am never sure where it actually is going to. We do not participate in the Boosterthon, regardless of what the children can "win".

Today in the car pool line, as I sat there with a headache- the Boosterthon guy blared music (bad music) from the school speakers, and he danced around in circles, talking and laughing with the kids. People that happy make me want to smack them. They have to be on crack, or something. I did refrain from mowing him down.

In earlier events today, I saw in a parenthood magazine (Doctor's office waiting)that there actually is a free sperm site. A few weeks back, I wrote about what I thought a donor from a free site would be like. So for kicks, while I waited I created a profile. I posted a serious profile, you know- professional lesbian couple seeks donor for AI or shipping only. I did notice on the site that you could choose NI or natural insemination I bet. So I posted our picture together, and typed out a quick bio.

Not even 10 mins later my email inbox was flooded with donors who wanted to "help" give us the gift of life. Email 1: Donor- FSDR10066

Hey Lady! How U doin! I'm a 29 y/o white male who is interested in donating sperm. I am a proven donor, with 4 succesful natural inseminations (Ya know sex). I have donated via AI and NI in the past, however it is my personal experience that NI is most effective (ya know sex). I am offering NI donations only at this time. As I said before and because I am in healthcare NI (natural insemination) works best in mine profesional opinion. Hit me up, if you are interested.

Peace,

MagnumPI

I nearly spit out my drink at the last line.