WELL.

I was going to post about how I had the honor of meeting the fabulous Erin over at The Vicious Cycle of Cycles and her awesome hubby  last weekend and how fun it was to have them over to meet the babies and see the Twinapalooza in full effect.  I had them come down to watch a feeding so they could get a better idea of what it’s like to have two babies…I wanted to stress the joy and excitement and that YES, it’s a hellava lot of work, but LOOK! Even with an almost crippling anxiety disorder it’s still FUN and aren’t boy/girl just the bestest ever?!?!  But of course BeBop had to open his pie hole and be all, Oooooooooh GAWD, the sleep deprivation!  I wish someone had been honest and warned me!  So I’m warning you…it’s HARD. And I’m tired and waaaaahhhhh! And if we’d been sitting at a table I would have kicked him under it, but instead I tried to divert their attention back to the guacamole and LOOK OVER THERE CUTE BABIES LOOK!

But they were great and I’m so glad we can be friends and I look forward to hanging out together once her babies are born and be the Twin Freak Shows parading around the greater Bay Area with our ginormous strollers that enable the babies to arrive approximately two minutes before we do at any given location.  And, as an extra special bonus you all simply MUST head over to her blog and beg her to post her recipe for the DELISH "enchilasagna" she brought (along with chips and BEER and adorable onesies for the babies, how great is she?!?).  It was so yummy and I thought we’d eat it two nights in a row (YAY! No cooking!) but it was so good we devoured the entire thing that very night.

So, anyhoodles, I was going to post all about that but then I watched the Tyra Show today.  THE Tyra Show, people. The one I was sort of asked to be on and then sort of unasked to be on.  First of all, the title of the show was Motherhood At Any Cost with the tag line, "See how far some ladies are willing to go to have their own biological child."

It was such a weird, uneven show. 

First of all, The Bachelorette Trista Sutter came on to talk about her struggles to get pregnant.  1) I do applaud her for openly discussing the issue.  Not many ‘celebrities’ (and I know, loose definition there) are willing to publicly discuss problems conceiving and I think if more people did, there wouldn’t be such a weird stigma attached to it.  But 2) Trista did get pregnant after an HSG, not fertility treatments per se, which is not to discount how hard her journey to motherhood was for her and her hunky husband Ryan, but STILL, I couldn’t help but think some of the motivation for her appearing was to sell her new line of diaper bags and perhaps that crazy ovulation predicting watch-thing she kept mentioning by name.  Is she also selling that?  I know, I’m such a freakin’ cynic.

And fo’ shizzle they HAD to include a brief but painful (for me) discussion of Trista’s recent US Weekly cover  entitled "How I Got My Body Back!" which is just a hideous and very painful slap in the face (and the still super-sized GUT) to any of us who haven’t gotten our bodies back and don’t have any hope of getting our bodies back within the next century. And by then it will be too late so who frigging cares but…where was I?

Oh yeah. Reality TV stars Trista and Ryan…

Truth be told I would have liked to meet those two in the green room, I can’t lie.  And does anyone else think it’s so weird that Jackson has the same onesie her son Max had on? And that I too opt for the baby layered look by putting on a long-sleeved onesie under the GAP one? And that I swear Max and Jackson could almost be twins despite the fact that BeBop and I do not, unfortunately for both of us, bear ANY resemblance whatsoever to Trista and Ryan? 

No one else thinks that’s weird?  Ok.  My bad.  Moving on…

The next guest was a woman so desperate to have a baby she’s lying to her fiance (who’s not ready for kids) about taking the birth control pill.  Once she made the staggering confession that no, she doesn’t actually take the pill consistently like she says she does, the camera panned to the audience who was all, oooooohhhhhh, and they shot a close-up of a woman with her mouth agape, oh-no-she-did’t practically written across her forehead.  The poor fiance was then dragged out, only to be told on national television his beloved has been lying to him. And then it seemed like Tyra did her best to break them up.  Is it just me, or did you all think that too?

Tyra did speak to a couple in the audience who has undergone some kind of fertility treatments, but they didn’t elaborate, only casually mentioning they had already taken out a third mortgage to pay for whatever it is they did, which they didn’t even discuss.  And their response to the ever-helpful, ‘did you ever think of adopting?’ question posed by Tyra elicited the ever-annoying* ‘we wanted a baby who was a product of us and our love…’

BLECH.

Blech to that annoying and condescending question that almost all of us have to hear countless times during our long and painful journeys to become parents ("D’oh!  Adoption?!?  Why nooooo, we never thought of THAT!  What a convenient, easy and affordable alternative!!  Not to mention speedy and free from complicated paperwork and sometimes even the prospect of international travel.  And totally without risk of heartbreak. GAWD what would we do without you Tyra!?").

To emphasize how totally awesome it is to adopt (even though: see tag line above,WTF?!?), at the very end she paraded out the editor of some magazine who turned 40 and decided to adopt as a single woman.  Who then dragged out her adorable but clearly frightened two-week old baby whose startle reflex was quite developed as she quivered and shook her little baby arms in response to the bright lights and deafening applause she was subjected to.

I can now totally understand why the producer I spoke to asked me if I could say something like, "You have to go on living your life…" to someone struggling to conceive.  Can you imagine?  Coming from ME, the poster girl for NOT living her life while trying to conceive. 

What’s this?  I just received a new text message:

I am a pot.  U R blck.  U suk.  U R an a hole.

They didn’t really talk at all about fertility treatments or the lengths intelligent, well-adjusted women will go to to have a baby.  They didn’t talk about the social stigma attached to undergoing fertility treatments.  I was hoping for a frank and eye-opening discussion of the pain we all go through, month after month.  And what that does to our self esteems, our outlooks on life, our marriages, our lives. And what about an informative conversation about the medical options that exist, without the ‘did you ever think of adopting’ question thrown out there.  I would have preferred not to have been ‘compared’ (as a woman who underwent five years of fertility treatments) with a woman who is lying to her fiance in the hopes of getting pregnant even though he’s made it perfectly clear he DOES NOT WANT KIDS YET.

But I guess that was too much to hope for.

I guess in many people’s eyes, we are the same:  the infertile woman, the single woman who chooses to adopt, the deceitful woman who lies to her future husband.  I guess we all DO go to desperate lengths, but it seems a shame to talk about all of us in the same conversation.  We do share the dream of becoming a parent, but to put all of us in the ‘Motherhood At Any Cost’ box is simplistic at best, insulting at worst.

*And not to be all judgey McJudgey, but I just don’t like people to knock adoption by saying that the only way to have a child who is a ‘product of their love’ is to conceive one.  I think for many people adoption is a fantastic alternative and that a family started this way is still a product of a couple’s love.  But to each his or her own and I shouldn’t be such a buttwipe, I know.  Sleep deprivation makes me more of a witch than normal.  (But don’t tell Erin I said so!)

And that was ME, not the babies, of course!

So that didn’t work out so well…THAT being the Lexapro, which seems to have brought on the World’s Most Severe Migraine.

I didn’t just have a migraine, people, that migraine HAD ME!

Why didn’t you warn me?!?

Oh yeah, right.  I begged asked you not to.  Silly me.

After a few days on the lowest dose, I came down with this awful migraine, complete with vomiting…and… OHLORD the vomiting.  It lasted all night and into the next morning when BeBop had to place an emergency call to my Mother, who rushed over to help me feed the babies since he had to get to work.

It was terrible.  It was baby-throwing-in-the-Boppy-so-I-could-run-to-the-bathroom-and-dry-heave awful.

So onto my next plan, which is to see a real live psychiatrist, instead of the nurse practitioner, and investigate a whole range of options, since I seem to have a hard time ingesting these meds. (Did I tell you I started Effexor a few weeks ago and that also made me really sick?)

But, I am feeling better.  Whether it’s a few days on the ‘Pro or a coinkydink or some placebo effect, I haven’t had the daily anxiety that plagued me for months.  So I feel like I have some time to check out different options and come up with a plan.

In the meantime, the babies are doing great.  At 9 & 1/2 weeks (MYYYYYY how time flies when you’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown!) they weigh the exact same, 10 pounds, 11 ounces. 

I take the 2:00 AM feeding and BeBop does the next one around 6:00 and then heads off to work.  I wake up and try to down a cup of coffee before they get up and then I do the 10:00 AM feeding which is followed by play time.

We listen to music and they sit under this jungle-themed contraption with music and lights and Jackson loves the hell out of this thing, but it’s a bit much for my little Peanut.  She prefers to ‘read’ with Mommy which entails me showing her pages from one of those newborn baby books with the black and white images and reading some of the most inane words ever put to paper:  Did you feed the baby?  YES!  I fed the baby!  What a wriggly giggly thing!  I usually make up my own words:  Mommy has anxiety issues!  Does Mommy need a spa getaway?  YES!  She does need a spa getaway… to make it a little more interesting.

They loooove their swings and so do we.  I swear when those suckers run out of batteries I practically have a conniption.  Parker has just noticed that while swinging, there is a mirror directly above her head.  She stares and stares at herself making little cooing sounds, while I encourage her by lamely repeating "Who’s a pretty girl? Who’s the pretty girl?" over and over again, to both of our delights.

It’s odd to look back over the last couple of months, to see how far we’ve all come.  I was so sick and scared when we got home from the hospital, and between the hourly (at least) crying jags and the anxiety, I could barely function. 

I am still getting my Mom Legs as I call it — still trying to find my way through this incredible maze.  Every day is different, and just as I think I have a routine or a rhythm down, things change and I’m forced to try something new.

The babies are so good, but sometimes we have the Double Baby Meltdown.  This usually happens when I’m running late to feed them, which starts with me changing one and putting him/her in the swing and then changing the other one and putting him/her back in the other swing and heating up the bottles and then placing them on the Boppy pillows to eat.

Then begins the three-ring circus known as feeding time when I prop the bottles up and burp one and then the other, a couple of times each, until they’re both finished and then I stare at them, wide-eyed (me, not them), and ask what they want to do next.

If you were to visit, you might very well hear the following yelled from one room to the other: ONE MOMMY, TWO BABIES! ONE MOMMY TWO BABIES!  HOLD IT TOGETHER PEOPLE!!!!

This happens when I am busy changing one of my little angels and the other one is losing his or her shit in the other room.

(I am convinced that if either Jax or Parker follows in my footsteps and seeks out any kind of therapy in the future, they will share with the therapist that somewhere, deep in the recesses of their brain, they hear an odd statement over and over again that sounds a lot like "One mommy, two babies" and they don’t exactly know what it means…)

This so does not come easy for me.  I like things to be planned out, I like to know what to expect.  I prefer to study and prepare and know what’s coming. I like to believe I know what I’m doing.  I like to feel competent.

In short, I am ill-suited to this new job I took on a few months ago; I am still woefully unprepared for the promotion from Pregnant Gal to Mom.

But I try my best, each and every day.  And I’m grateful, each minute. I still sneak into the nursery and watch them sleep, side by side in the crib.  And I stare at these two little miracles and still can’t believe that after everything, they’re here.  And that they will be here, with us, for the rest of all of our lives.  That the four of us will walk through this world, together.  That I’ll help them take their first steps and drop them off at school and one day when her hair grows back get a matching Katie-Suri haircut with Parker and make BeBop teach them to drive and wait up for them at night and, hopefully, be here to see them find partners and have kids of their own if they so choose.

It’s been a crazy, wild journey so far and yet, we’re still at the very beginning. 

 

Hi Everyone ~

I got a wonderful phone call this morning from the beautiful Faith who shared the great news with me, and she said I could post it.

So you heard it here first:

Baby Andrew was born yesterday (September 27th, 2007) at 2:58 PM by c-section, weighing 5lbs15oz and he was 19" long. 

Following one minute later was his younger brother Matthew, weighing in at 5lbs1oz,  and he was also 19" long.

Momma and babies are doing well, and Faith sounded amazing when I spoke with her.  The boys have to spend a little time in the hospital to make sure their lungs are strong, but they will all be able to go home within the next few days.

So head on over to her blog and wish them well!

Fuckin’ A RIGHT it is!

One of these days I swear I’ll put together a real post.  Not that you’re sitting around waiting, all panicky, in anticipation of a new Watson post, risking a repetitive stress injury by refreshing your screen all day for an update…

Click here to see how your blog is rated!

Welcome Baby Ash.er

Born yesterday (via c-section, after many hours of labor) to my sister and her husband!

8lbs 10 oz
21 1/2 inches

Momma and Baby are doing well!!

Okay, so like two-hundred years ago (at least!) the beautiful and tough-as-nails Reality nominated me for a Thinking Blogger Award.

I mean, this was so long ago, we were all wearing palazzo pants and blazers with padded shoulders, feathering our hair and listening to Spandau Ballet.

(Have I totally aged myself?  I fear that I have…)

Anyhoo, soon after Reality’s post, a duo I’ll creatively refer to as The Two Saras ( Sara and SaraS-P) also nominated me…so golly gee!  Thanks guys!!

Although, I did have to laugh, I mean ruhlly…what in the H-E-double sticks do I make you poor people think about?

My ovulation schedule?  Check.

The consistency (and prevalence, or lack thereof) of cervical mucus?  Check.

My crazy dog, husband, and/or Mother?  Check, check and CHECK.

But I was honored just the same, and now my task is to nominate five other bloggers.  And so, because although tardy I’m quite good at following instructions, here you go.  And I’m sorry if you’ve been nominated already.  And I’m really sorry if you’re still wearing those palazzo pants and I offended you with my comments above. My BAD.

‘Nilla at Vanilla Dreams: I have been reading the dear, sweet ‘Nilla since I started blogging over a year ago.  She’s been to hell and back and is still one of the most honest, beautiful writers I’ve ever seen.  Or read. You know what I mean.  She’s awesome.  (And she knows a CRAP LOAD about cosmetics and the beauty industry!)

I was lucky enough to stumble upon Faith at Keeping the Faith just before her first IVF cycle, and discovered we shared the same doctor!  She was my lifeline during my own cycle, and was always there for me. I would pester her with e-mails, asking her to describe in minute detail what the retrieval and transfer were like so I’d know what to expect. And she never minded when I asked if she was totally bloated too.  And that’s a good friend.

Zee at This is NOT What I Ordered! is like the most HI-larious person EVAH! Her posts are thought-provoking, sad, humorous and passionate, all at once.  She left such a funny comment last summer I practically begged her to start her own blog because, selfishly, I knew she’d provide hours of good reading material for me.  And she did not disappoint.  I’m not sure she’s still reading now, so she might not see this.  But if she does, please know you’re still my East Coast Doppleganger Double. And I love you.

Vanessa at Twisted Ovaries is also hysterical and such a great writer.  She’s now pregnant with twins and believe me, you’ll want to follow along on her journey to mommyhood.  I wish she didn’t live so freaking far away, because she’s the girl you’d really want to meet for drinks.  Or, errrr…decaf coffee I guess. But drinks would be waaay more fun!!

Kir at Kir’s Corner is just starting her first IVF cycle, so head on over there and wish her luck.  She writes with such honesty that you feel like you really know her and are friends in real life. (And I don’t mean that in a weird, stalker-wish way, I swear!)

And last, but not least, Ali (aka Ms. Planner) started a new blog recently, only the link I had isn’t working!  But being the rebel that I am, I’m still nominating her for the Award, and if you see this, comment or e-mail me with the link, ‘kay?

(OH! I just found you, you sneaky little vixen…here’s Ms. Planner’s blog.)

And that is all, my friends, that is all. Until I post again and bore you to tears with pregnancy symptoms. 

Because it allll comes back to ME, right?!

But seriously, there is a lot of good news in the blogosphere recently and I know you’ve grown accustomed to me whining, bitching, complaining and describing in waaaay too much detail my bodily functions, but today?

I have decided to share some good news.

Three lucky and deserving women have gotten those elusive BFPs in the last couple of days, so head on over there and wish ’em well:

The lovely and brilliant Faith, the riotously funny Vanessa and the hysterically clever  Susan.  Yay ladies, I wish you all the best and just want to say CONGRATULATIONS on your good news!

And me?  Well, today I went to the pharmacy to pick up the Lupron and the goody bad of needles and alcohol swipes.

(PS, couldn’t I just LICK one of those before the shot to dull my senses??)

One of the pharmacists brought me into a little private room to go over everything (which my regular pharmacy does not have, thus the public humiliation of last week).  But hanging above her head was this giant photograph of three tiny babies… swimming!  UNDERWATER! Just hanging out, chilling, like it was the most common thing on earth.

It was so weird…it looked a little like this. 

Go on, take a peep:

Isn’t that odd?  What the frick are those crazy babies up to anyway?  Like thanks for the nipple, Ma, I waited my thirty minutes and now I’d like to go for a dip?

I just don’t get it.  It kind of freaked me out, to tell you the truth.

But anyway, my real point in posting is to convey my heartfelt congrats to the lucky ladies who received good news. May you have healthy pregnancies, and healthy and happy babies. 

And if they want to go swimming while totally naked, well then, good luck with that, too.

Have I told you that I am an idiot?

Yes, I think that I have. On several occasions, actually.

Definitely in the last post.

I think I mentioned how, ohbythewayIamCRAZY, like totally Cuckoo for Coco Puffs, in this embarrassing little tale.

And of course there’s the whole business about coming from a less than traditional family, and by ‘traditional’ I mean ‘normal.’

But, really, the sad truth of my idiocy was just brought home for me once again when I called Dr. Z’s office to get some additional details.

(PS Thank you all SO much for the wonderful information you provided. Man, you guys rock. Seriously. Want to all meet for a spa weekend one of these days to celebrate your awesomeness?)

Anyhoo, I called and discovered that I am NOT taking two entire packs of pills. I am taking one pack, and then if needed a few additional pills around the time I start the Lupron.

So basically I failed to do the second grade level math and figure out that one pack only has 21 pills, and I might need another 7-8 pills at the start of the protocol, therefore necessitating another pack.

But I won’t be taking the entire second pack. No!

I need approximately 28 pills and each pack only has 21, and 21 – 28 = durrrrr….ME NEED MORE PILLS…I am an idiot!

And yes, the pills are to quiet my system, strap down those antral follicles and make sure they don’t get all carnival freak on my ass. If all goes well (meaning the follies are nice and quiet and demure, and not all Jack-and-Coke swilling ass-clowns) I will take the pills (ONE pack and maybe a few stragglers, NOT TWO)  (IDIOT! said in best Napoleon Dynamite voice), and around March 4th or 5th start the Lupron and then go from there. You all know the drill A LOT better than I do!

                                               ***          ***           ***

"You are beautiful. You are sexy. You are pregnant. Flaunt it."

Now this is just a delightful sentiment, to be sure. But did I want to receive a package at work with a giant sticker on the front exclaiming this little ditty?

Not so much.

But that’s what happened today when I got the t-shirt I ordered for my sister.

I saw a link on Heather’s site to these adorable tees (thanks H!), and I thought: what a nice gift that would make. What a nice sister I am.  What a big person I am to swallow my frustration and jealousy and order a frigging t-shirt.  I should get pregnant MYSELF soon because of my immense generosity of spirit. RIGHT?? 

And then I whacked myself in the head – hard- with a nearby two-by-four because, really, it’s just a goddamn t-shirt and it’s not that big of a deal and I really need to get over myself.

Having it sent to my office was an all together lame ass idea. Since below the spot where the label exclaims I am sexy AND pregnant and encourages me to flaunt these assets, it also clearly states it’s from a company selling "maternity wear for the haute mama." 

They might assume that…I am the pregnant one.

EEEEEKS.

What on earth must my co-workers assume I’m doing when I’m supposedly at all of these doctor’s appointments undergoing quote/unquote fertility treatments, week after week after week?

Getting a regular Brazilian bikini wax to keep the hedges nice and tidy?

Doing Meth and hanging out at the Mall, trolling Forever 21 and humiliating myself as the only 39 year old woman trying desperately to squeeze into their size 10s?

Scouring the Internet in a vain attempt to discover whether or not the rumors about my little Brit-Brit being pregnant AGAIN are true? (Couldn’t be!)

Watching back-to-back episodes of 30 Rock on one endless, hilarious loop? (I do have the boldness of a much younger woman…)

The possibilities are endless.

But, alas, instead of the waxing, trolling, scouring and watching, I will soon be at the doctor’s office day after day trying to become one haute mama.

Wish me luck.  I’ll need it… 

Yes.  That’s right.  ME.

And also?

Antral follicles:  YOU CAN SUCK IT.

So this will come as no surprise to you, but I am a total idiot. 

Like the time in college I walked straight into the men’s room in the packed student union and when I suddenly realized my mistake (BOYS!  STANDING UP!  HOLDING  THEIR PEE PEES!  IN THEIR HANDS!!) I turned around, rushed back out the door and then looked at my watch.  And tried to appear impatient and totally in control of all my faculties. 

As if to say to anyone who had witnessed my grave error: Oh!  I meant to do that.  I am waiting for someone and he is very late and so I thought I’d take a peek into the men’s bathroom and see if he was in there.

I am that kind of an idiot.

Because I thought once you said, okay doc, I’m ready, let’s get this IVF train out of the IF station and straight downtown to babyville it would just happen quickly.

But no.

I have to do not one — but TWO — cycles of birth control pills.  I guess because of the antral follicle count they want me to start the Pill at the beginning of my next cycle, take it for the 21 days, have a period, and then start another pack of pills and then the Lupron.

Is this normal?

And by ‘normal’ I mean ‘within reason’ because, really, my definition of normal is skewed now that I will willingly be putting my feet into stirrups and asking a doctor to pluck my eggs from me, mix them with BeBop’s sperm in some kind of a petri dish contraption thing and then (if all goes well!) stick them back in me. 

So it looks like I’ll start Lupron the first week or so of March and then the whole retrieval/transfer business won’t happen until the end of March.

Which brings me perilously close to my younger sister’s baby shower planned for April, but that’s a whole other whiny, poor me post.  (Which I’ll treat you to another day because I’m a sharer like that!)

In addition to the whole timing issue, I also have a question for you lovely ladies about the meds.  There is a local pharmacy that carries the Lupron, Gonal F/Bravelle, Repronex, Medrol (which?  What is this?  There’s a great middle eastern restaurant in San Francisco called Med.jool but I’m thinking this is not a gift certificate courtesy of my doctor for some Cosmos and pita with hummus…) and the PIO (Oleate or Oil? Wha???). 

And the needles.  Sweet mother of God, the needles!

And I know: totally preaching to the choir here.

Here’s my question:  should I just get the meds through the local pharmacy or order them from some other place that ships?  Is there a cheaper way or am I just dreaming that I don’t have to spend the future kid’s college fund just getting knocked up with him/ her??

Any other helpful hints in terms of the meds?

And NO, it’s not me silly bears! 

But wouldn’t that be funny?

I mean, not funny ha ha, but funny weird as in:  I have somehow secured a rip in the space/time continuum and have undergone IVF AND gestated a baby all in the span of time since my last post.

GAWD.  That would awesome. 

But wait!  This is not about ME!

Her most fabulousness, Momo, went and had herself a BABY! 

Welcome Baby Benjamin!!

So head on over there to wish her well.