Give me an "S"..."U"..."C"..."K"!

We got a call last week from Mr. Mandolyn's aunt. She and Uncle had extra tickets to an out-of-town football game that they knew we wanted to attend. We'd cheer for opposite teams, but they wanted to offer two of their season tickets for the game-- a nice gesture nonetheless. We already made plans to go with my parents, so we graciously declined. Most of Mr. Mandolyn's family went to the opposing team's school, so we thought his brother, SIL and our one and a half yr old nephew might be invited (they had expressed interest in going). Turns out they were ultimately told Uncle didn't want to invite them because he didn't want children in his area. They might be loud and rowdy and squirmy and crawl on the seats. At a football game.

This won't exactly do wonders for the already strained family relationship.


I infer three things from this unfortunate situation:

1. I feel sorry for his grown children and future grandchildren. Sounds like he'll make such a tender, warmhearted Gramps.

2. I hope that everyone around him is loud, obnoxious and under the age of four.

3. I realize that we were only invited because we don't have children. And although I'm sure it wasn't meant as such, that stings.

I normally don't like egg whites

Or yolks, really. I'm not a picky eater, I just can't handle eggs. Scrambled, sunny side up, poached, fried, etc. I'm especially disgusted by bits of eggs hiding in tuna fish and salads. My nose turns up at eggs. And milk. Unless they are baked into something...then it's usually ok.

But I digress.

I've heard of this "consistency of eggwhites" sign of ovulation but always filed it under my "another thing that somehow doesn't apply to me" mental folder. Until three minutes ago in the bathroom at work. (TMI? Well, tough.) It wasn't intentional. I was tending to business as usual and then was caught off guard by this clear stretchy stuff that resembled, well, eggwhites. I smiled. That's supposed to happen. That's a sign that things are working. That's (gasp) normal.

After my first round of Clomid, blood tests showed that there was no sign of ovulation. Second time around, same result, but with a fantastic twist. Intense cramping and no period (again) made me POAS just to be able to answer the doctor's office with an exasperated "YES (damn it)" when prompted. We were surprised. So that time, we beat the odds, threw a finger up at the blood test results, and put some pretty good pregnancy hormones on the board. Until...

But now I feel confident that an egg (or two?) is chillin' just waiting to be fertilized. Actually, I hope that she and Mr. Mandolyn's contributions are already doing the tango in my womb, but it is Day 16, which means that we've got at least two more chances to start the music this go around. So thanks for the reassurance, eggwhites, the chaos in my brain appreciates it.

Season Two: A Projected Winning Streak

Mid-August. That marks the official one-year mark of attempted baby making. What a trip around the sun. I've felt excited, nervous, disappointed, emotional, elated, in complete disbelief, blissful, devastated, shocked, teary, thoughtful, calm, and now...hopeful. 365 days. Five (give or take) rounds of Provera, two rounds of Clomid, one conception & loss, and a lot of healing. It could have been better. It could have been worse.

Yes, the innocence is long gone. One of my best friends was talking to me not long after the D&C and trying to understand. She paused and then said, "So you're saying there's not a single day that goes by that you don't think about it?" Nope, not a single moment. (I know she had to be thinking, "Wow, that's effed up.") But now I'm realizing that doesn't have to mean negativity. In the past month or so, I've begun to make peace with it. I feel a million times lighter and a little bit stronger. Reasoning and logic has been thrown out the window.

And again, I'm ready. I've got a pomegranate string on my wrist. I'm in the middle of my third round of Clomid. Mr. Mandolyn and I are excited to start taking it again. Woo-hoo! Now we feel like our game piece is on the board. So here we go, team...Game On!

A Tentative Love Letter to My New Blogger Account

Dear Blogger Account,
I recently set up an account with you. Truth be told, I just wanted to leave a comment on a site that required a log-in. I have to admit, it feels a little like cheating on my MSN Spaces account. But Blogger, it feels pretty good. I notice that you have spell check. (For that, I could kiss you. In fact, I just did.) Now, don't get too excited, I plan to keep up my other blog. In fact, I will probably treat it as if you never existed. But I think you'll be the one that I will spill my TTC guts to. From now on, you'll get to hear about the relief of "day one" after a layover in Provera Park. You'll have to suffer through the bitchiness that will once again follow the 5th-9th days of our vacation to San Clomid. You might have to endure the emotional tidal waves along the way. Heads up, Blogger, I haven't seen calm soothing waters in quite some time. Welcome to my head, my body, my world. Make yourself comfy, New Account...we could be here a while.

Love (I think),
mandolyn

P.S. So as not to repeat over and over, I'll let you visit my Mandolyn'sBabyQuest background story over at the other blog if you so please. It's in a nutshell, but you get the idea.