Five Alive

Exactly five years ago at this very moment (if I can get this to post exactly at 2pm!), I said "I do"

Officially a Mr & Mrs!

I'm sure there are those of you out there that can agree--some days it feels like it's only been 2 months, and other days it feels like 20 years!

And I will be the first to tell you--the past five years have been happy, but not a walk in the park. Marriage is hard work. Throw two people together with their finances, opinions, religious backgrounds, dirty socks, bad habits, tampons and you've got one helluva pairing.

Then just for fun, add infertility into the mix.

When we tossed out the birth control after a year and a few months of marriage, we thought we were prepared to get pregnant and have a family. Well, we were--but we were not prepared for the toll the quest of becoming parents would have on our relationship.

We suffered.....we yelled at each other, we withdrew emotionally, we lost our tempers, we stopped functioning as a couple.

There were some truly dark, dark days.

But...

We survived....we hugged, we talked, we went to counseling, we laughed, we grew stronger as a couple.

Of course not all of our triumphs and dark moments have been because of infertility--we fight like any couple. Just last night I was nagging him about a honey-do-list and he was leaving the dishes in the sink. But we kiss and make up. We put Oman down for bed together and sing him a song...then we sat holding hands on the couch.

I am incredibly thankful I get to spend next week with my husband of five years with a margarita in my hand and sand between my toes.

Hands in the sand five years ago...

Brought to you by: The Letter W (and Mook)

W is for WRAPPING

So, for those of you who know me well enough to know of my employer and the overwhelming holiday freight that resides each year from early October until New Years day, you probably know, and can expect, the holiday season to be a royal pain in the rear. For those of you who do not know, I am one of the major helpers for Santa, Ron Karenga, and the magic of the Menorah. For my decade of tenure in bringing holiday cheer, my own cheer has somewhat fallen to the wayside.

This is not to say that the holidays have been unhappy, but more to say, that the holidays (outside my beautiful wife and parents/in-laws) was tolerable. That was until this year. O-man has brought back the wonder and excitement to this special time of year. Work is still work, but I have a new revitalized understanding that my little bit of assistance brings joy to people all over North America (except Mexico... apenado).

Back to W. So, I'm done with my holiday wrapping! Yeah, that's right! I'm done. D. O. N. E., done! (Shameless self-promotion: I am happy to rent out my wrapping skills to anyone in need.)
I love wrapping--and in the spirit of tooting my own horn, I'm darn good at it!

I am amazed to see O-man's eyes as he sees the colorful paper on the various boxes now stacked in our living room corner. His wonderment gives me that warm fuzzy feeling that was void for so long. My love for Christmas and the anticipation to see him for many Christmases to come is now, once again, aflame in my soul.

Mook pleads to you all

Hello blog-o-sphere. Two posts in one week...I know, I know...Please hold all applause until the end of my presentation plea. This is merely a begging of mercy from me, the husband not your usual attempt at comic relief.

As you all know by now, JJ is in her resting state after the current IVF with ICSI. As most of you know by now JJ is self admittedly a worry wart. She has more than enough reason to show concern with our current point of life (and I am right there with her). I can not however get enough help in easing her mind.

I assure JJ that the "Planets" (cause there's nine! Pluto counts damnit!), are in the best possible place they can be in. These doctors know what it is, that they do. I jokingly bring up the evidence of me not being able to keep up with a pair of socks much less nine microscopic embryos, so its a good thing they didn't send them home in a cooler. She doesn't quite find the humor in my speech. So, I digest. (A little Family Guy there...anyone? anyone?)

I have asked that JJ take a small break from the blogging world. This isn't to say she won't be chatting it up on email. Two reasons: 1.) She lives on the Internet with both work and normal life and 2.) Shes stubborn as a mule when it comes to things like this. I have simply asked that she refrain from Internet searches (preggo/IVF related) as well as yous guys' blogs. I hope you all can understand. I really just want her to relax and keep her mind occupied. This is a short term thing, I swear!

So my plea to you is to be understanding in her short absence and I certainly welcome any and all positive comments or support. She is a great woman and I love her dearly. So, with everything I can possibly muster, thank you for everyone's support and understanding. You all are wonderful!

Follow Mook from Room to Room

Mook here with no doubt, a highly anticipated update.

The day started early this am. Nerves were bond in anticipation on both our parts. I dub this "nervacious." We made our way over to our star studded cast, (you RedBookers will get that one), at the local knock-up center at around 8am...all the way, I'm trying to mind the roads, watch out for the bad drivers and take the quickest route.

Not so easy when you are deliberately trying to do so. Can you rent yellow flashy lights to put on your car for a short period of time? Like, "HEY! Precious cargo! BACK OFF! Don't you see my makeshift police/ambulance lights a flashin' up there?"

Once we arrived at said clinic, we made our way inside to the "Waiting Room" just long enough for my attention to be caught by whatever gab show was on TV. Like most men, I don't watch these shows, by choice, but when you are in a place that is 95% inclined to a woman's tastes, you take what you can get. So, just as my attention span grazes the point of understanding the current Hollywood scandals, we were called by our IVF nurse, "Kate" from Lost. (Only our Kate isn't an escaped murderer on the run, or so we think...)

We then proceeded back to the "Explanation Room", had a seat and again waited for the doc to appear and make sure we are who we say we are and that we understand whats going to go on in the actual retrieval process. The anesthesiologist comes in first. A cool guy, (looked and talked just like Gary Oldman), made us both feel at ease.

Then comes another nurse, Robin. This is where my morning turned comical. She leads me to another room, the "Andrology Room", giving her routine spiel the whole way. She explained to me where I was to sign my name, how I was collect the sample, etc., etc., etc.

(Important tidbit is that you understand I am from the South. My mom and pops did a great job of putting some manners into my daily life. So the whole time the nurse is talking, I respond to each instruction with a, "Yes Ma'am." )

She finally turns to me and says to stop being polite, I was making her feel old. Which I understand and we both got a good laugh out. Then she looks down at my info and chuckles. "I guess I am old enough to be your mom!" Great! Thats what I want to hear right before I get down to business. Thanks Robin! As she leaves, she dims the lights for some, as she explained, "mood lighting," and says, "The good stuff is right there under the tv!"

OK, there are three things wrong that statement.
Number one. The stuff you have, ain't that good.
Number two. The stuff you say you have, aint there (some poor sole that was there ahead of me had apparently needed the DVD collection for home practice sessions)
Number three. The glossy print version of "the good stuff" was all stuck together. No explanation needed.

So this left me in quite the quagmire. I had nothing but the ole imagination to get me goin'. But, have you ever noticed, and the guys can attest to this fact, when you are doing your deed for man and country in there, isn't it crazy odd how quiet the rest of the building seems to get? At first, all I could imagine was the entire nurse staff outside with glasses held up to the door. Pervs!

Well I finally finished up, and deposited my "romance in a cup" in the little specimen door, washed my hands and headed out. Robin yet again surprised me with, "Thanks over achiever!" Like maybe she thought I put way to much effort into that sampling... ???

Long story short (too late) everything went well for JJ today. She pulled through with miraculous efforts and made the complete process a success. 14 curvaceous beauties were recovered and the docs seemed optimistic with the whole shebang. We will have more details soon as far as the number of matures and fert report. She is doing great; home all day on bed rest, in the Bed Room. She is a tad more crampy than last time but is in overall good spirits...still has an iron grip (see previous post)

I have to say thank you to JJ for being such a trooper and going through this entire thing. She truly is fabulous! No matter the outcome, we will be happy and we will make this life together a spectacular one. I love you babra!

What I learned for $40

Mook here with the most recent rendition of our topsy-turvy ride we call: gettin' knocked up...

So, I'm a pretty laid back guy. It takes a lot to get to me and even more to really piss me off (these factors will be handy for any empathy with the rest of this story). There are also a few life lessons listed below that you ladies might want to share with your hubby.

Being the ever prepared woman I fell in love with, JJ made a list of questions for me to ask this new "guru of the junk," making sure to include every detail since I really have no idea what have of the abbreviations mean. Of course, to calm her nerves, I had to call the main office number to confirm that A) the office closest to my work was available for the appointment and B) that all of the previously mentioned tests and analysis' could be performed with the utmost speed of a ninja. All of which had a residing positive response. JJ's mind was now at ease.

Well today was one of those days. The time had come for my prearranged "male private time in a public place." So, giddy as I was, I made my way across town to the newly recommended "peni handler".

Lesson number one: say no, no to any new docto'; Stick with what you know...

I filled out all the new paper work, sat in the impossible-comfort chairs, read the four month old magazines (which all seem to be female themed), and paid my waiting dues to the respective waiting room of said new doctor. About 30 minutes into my comfort seeking, my name was called. I made my way back to the exam room. (There's just something completely unnerving about sitting on a paper covered table/bench/bed/leaning post. - I was going for a combo, resembling that of the infamous cafegymatorium...but alas).

Anyway, my man shows up about twenty minutes later. Behind him was the intern. That's right, the intern. I have no problem with people learning, especially in the medical profession; but really, why today? Why me? Is my crotch odd in appearance or was I just the absolute perfect male specimen who was having his twig and berries checked out???? (I opted to believe the latter of these scenarios).

We then go through the normal questions that everyone gets with a new doctor. The doctor asked what kind of trouble I was having. "Well doc, my boys don't seem to like to swim." Dazed and apparently clearing an inner ear issue, the doctor just gazes over at me and responds, "Have you been seen for this before?" A little confused myself, I told him yes, and I explained again that this was a follow up visit for more current numbers and blood work since I had done all the "romance in a cup" and blood samples before and the only reason for my visit with him today was to accomplish those tiny sample provisions on JJ's provided checklist. He proceeded with some small talk and asked me to drop the shorts for a little examination. I did the ole turn and cough bit thinking how easy this was gonna be. Boy was I wrong...

Lesson number two: Never under any circumstance think a visit to a urologist will be easy.

Next he murmured, "Now turn around and place your elbows on the table." At that point I knew... The dreaded test was a comin' my way

Lesson number three and four: Never shake a doctors hand but always make sure the hands you aren't shaking are small...

Then he blew me away with the response, "Well, none of those tests can be done here. You'll have to go to another office with a lab for that." This was my second point of (pardon the pun) irritable bowl syndrome. I mean I did, in fact, make a phone call to this particular doctor, at this particular locale to be sure that all of these items would be handled at this particular appointment. Had I been mislead?? Luckily the receptionist was nice enough to make some calls and found a nearby lab for just such things.

Unfortunately, when the order was faxed for my requested test profile to the new place, neglect and disarray fell on me yet again. Here I was with a freshly filled cup of man juice and no protocol for what was needed. So I went back into my spiel of infertility and the need of some current data. Fortunately, the lab lady was a great person with a true connection to this Infertile-Myrtle lifestyle and she saw the look of discomfort and frustration on my face and took pity on me. She took all my bodily fluid samples and that was that. "It'll all get straight somewhere. Don't you worry about it." I love nice people!

So $40 later and a whole new meaning to the term "taking one for the team," I think I'll start drawing up plans for my own paper-free cafegymatorium...

"Baby, was Cold Outside"

This is your late afternoon weather update from the Mook perspective. Today was a brisk, bitter cold day with the wind blowing at high speed and a nasty front coming from the southwest. Things were no warmer inside at the RE's office. The aforementioned totcicles, (see previous posts), were beginning their de-eskimoing...

Of the three arctic wanderers, two survived the journey and posed for a quick snapshot (meet Chilly and Willy), then onward to a warm yet quick spa treatment. JJ and I headed back to greet the little fellas in the torture -table room..."where the magic happens." I have to say that I am certainly glad I never went to med school to become a doctor. I would still be trying to pass the class on reading an ultrasound. I couldn't tell one grey/black blob from another; and it definitely didn't help me to figure it out when they keep moving it around; "Does this angle look better?" Ummmm, no, its the same. But whatever, as long as they knew what was going on and my JJ was comfy, I was good too.

So once the docs identified whatever it was they were attempting to point out to me, they proceeded with the slip and slide action. I have to admit, this whole process still blows my mind. I mean, I know that years and years of study in human anatomy come into play but its really like this group of random doctors just had some bendy straws and spare time and said, "What the hell! Let's try this."

Everything went extremely well with the procedure. JJ was a trooper despite her full bladder, which if there are any guys that might be reading this, there is no fury in the world like a woman who has to pee. Life lesson learned...don't try to distract her, it only makes it worse.

After the "mass relief," we headed home to plop JJ down on the couch for some rest and relaxation. I'll toot my own horn and confess to making every attempt at keeping her happy and comfortable for the day. Hopefully, I made that a reality.

Now its the waiting game once again. You'd think we would be getting good at this game...but we suck. I do want to thank everyone on the blogosphere for all of the kind words and thoughts as we journey through this craziness. It is really inspiring to read words of encouragement and know that other people can empathize with this up hill battle to save the human race. ;)

Put down your beverage....

Yesterday I read a funny post at So I Wait For You about how her hubby gets frustrated with her posts and jabber because it's all too technical (all our lingo/abbreviations). So at the end of Cibele's post, she asked the question of how well our spouses/partners might do.

So knowing Mook would be a good sport, I emailed him a mandatory quiz. I told him (jokingly of course) that he had to do this quiz because I would need him to post for me around the time of retrie.val and/or I might not have the energy to post...so without further adieu, I give you Mook's version of common abbreviations/lingo. So if that need ever comes, just beware of what Mook will think you are talking about. Enjoy...I know I did!

AF – artificial fertilization
IVF – invetro fertilization
IUI – inuteran fertilization
IF – IF need be, we'll do it again!
PG – parental guidance suggested
TTC – ticket and transportation center
DPO – densely populated ovulation
BFP – best from peni.s
BFN – best from needle
POAS – piece of awesome sh.it
OPT – optimum prime time
CD – cross dresser
BD – bad day

"yeah clearly i don't know as much as i should....i'm sorry; i do love you though more than words can say"

In case anyone reading needs a crash course in what terms really mean, go here: Bea's List of Acronyms

Oh I love ya Mook--what a sport. So I encourage participation from all spouses/partners--if anything, it will provide a good laugh for both of you--and we all know laughter is the best medicine!