Do my eyes deceive me?

At three this morning, I awoke from a happy sleep with a full bladder and a sense of dread. I couldn't decide whether to end the dream or just take a damn piss. I decided to end the dream. But the dream may not be over. There's a faint, faint hope.

RIGHT? I'm not just hallucinating because of the early hour? Mr. Bunny is out of town, so I have no one to ask.

I've been here before and yet never been here before. I've seen this incredibly faint line before, but only three days after my period was due. Then, the ghost of a line told me it was over. Now, it's 12 days past IUI and I don't know what this line is telling me. Despite the helpful key on the test. I know, I have a PhD, I should be able to grasp this. But there should be a middle circle with a faint line, reading HA HA! Maybe yes and maybe no! Have fun with that! And good luck getting back to sleep, mothafuckah!

I should just keep this to myself, particularly when I know a) how much seeing this sight can be a punch in the gut in our world (I'm so sorry) and b) how quickly this phantom can vanish. But I can't untake the test, and I'll need you if tomorrow's test shows nothing at all.

The state of my uterus

Thank you for all the information about your breasts! I'm fascinated by this kind of amazing variability. And I find it comforting to know there are loads of other women who go through multiple weeks of DON'T-COME-NEAR-ME-OR-I'LL-DIE-painful breasts, all for nothing. (I mean, okay, it's a sign of our bodies preparing for a possible pregnancy, so it's not for nothing, but still seems like a fucking ripoff.) But I may have inadvertently suggested that there was something interesting going on with me. Uh, NO. Part of my point was that my breasts are useless as a pregnancy barometer. And also as weather barometer. And as a vegetable peeler. The list of things my breasts are no good for goes on and on. Anyway, to convince you, here's a quick peek into my uterus. For comparison, I've included a peek into the normal uterus.

Fertile WHORES. HAAAAAAAATE YOOU! (Are you are fertile whore? Did I hurt your feelings? Sorry. But why are you reading this weblog? I mean, COME ON.) Also, a subset of wonderful infertile women, for whom I am genuinely thrilled.

Me. Click to enlarge.

Care to answer some intimate questions?

I'm very interested in your breasts.

Is that a creepy enough way to begin? Does it conjure up images of me lurking outside your bathroom window, notebook in hand? Actually, that's not me--must be someone else.

When BFB was early in her pregnancy, I asked her to tell me the story of finding out she was pregnant. Not because I wanted to hear it, because I felt I owed her that much. (By the way, I ended up telling her to fuck off for a while, and she was very gracious about it. And while I still think about her and her stupid baby a lot, at least it's on my terms now.) She said she knew something was up because her breasts started hurting way sooner than they normally do. This was surprising to me because mine start hurting well before they could be indicating anything. As I've listened to you guys talking about symptoms, I've become increasingly curious about this variable. I've also started wondering if you ladies with more ample bosoms are less likely to get hurty early on. So, if you'd care to answer the following personal questions, please oblige me. (Yeah, I could put up a POLL and be all technological and shit, but...nah.)
1. On what cycle day do you typically experience breast soreness, if you do.
2. Is the soreness slight, moderate, or XTREME. If it changes, please describe.
2. Would you categorize yourself as ample in the bosom?

My responses:
1. I used to reliably get painful breasts on day 21 of my 28 day cycle. Since my surgery, it's started earlier--maybe day 18 or so. THANKS FOR AN EXTRA WEEK OF UNTOUCHABLY SORE TITS! So this particular item is useless as a pregnancy symptom for me.
2. Goes from slight to XTREME over days 18ish to 21, then stays extreme until my period arrives.
3. Hells no. I'm a 34B.

Ancient Chinese Wisdom

This fortune cookie fortune is taped to the wall of my office.

I was thinking of endless department meetings when I stuck it up, not two week waits, but, being Ancient Chinese Wisdom and all, it's got multiple applications.

Of course, unlike with department meetings where I make Noises of Extreme Annoyance when my colleagues get off track, I'm not showing any impatience. It's all within, bubbling away on endless simmer. Like one of those fancy water baths you use to poach things. Like fish. And chicken.

Uh...where was I? RIGHT! IMPATIENT! Impatient and afraid. Not ready to face the result I know is coming. I think y'all's positive attitudes towards my eventual pregnancy infected me, and made me forget that of course it will never happen. (Not that I want you to be negative. Too bad you'll never have a baby, Bunny. Sux 2 B U. = Not really what I'm looking for.) Maybe I just feel alone, despite your lovely support. There's not much we can really do for each other during these periods except offer words of hope. And my husband doesn't like to talk about it, doesn't ask how I'm doing, doesn't think about this every moment of every day. It's a solitary experience.

I went to the botanical garden today for a few moments of quiet contemplation. I threw a coin in the reflecting pool, and remembered throwing a coin in the pool this time last year, making the same wish. Today I sat on a secluded bench near a little stream. I watched water sparkling over sand, and a chipmunk sitting on the bank. I felt no peace, just a heavy heart. As the Ancient Chinese say, this shit sucks.

Savory torments

My, I haven't had a real two week wait in a while. I'm not really a fan. I'm doing my best to follow Low Fat Lady's advice: let go of all the what ifs, do everything I can, hope for the best. That does kind of quiet the noise in my head...but not for long.

Last night I saw two bunnies in the back yard, a big one and a smaller one. There's no guarantee that it was a mamma and baby, and it's not like I don't see bunnies pretty regularly (one of the reasons I love my house so much!), but of course I want it to be an Auspicious Omen. The thing about Auspicious Omens, though, is that you just feel worse than ever when they turn out to be Meaningless Coincidences.

So I'm also reminding myself that, should things not go my way, I'll get to have the biggest, most alcoholic drink on the face of the planet. And, I have to travel to CA for a conference (at which I have to give a keynote address! AAAAAAAAAH!!!) in a few weeks, and would be really worried about that if I were pregnant. So there will be a couple of upsides. Though you know as well as I do how completely un-comforting those upsides are when in the throes of disappointment.

Meanwhile...TOMATOES! They've arrived! We've been getting about one a day for the past week or so, and they are pretty damn tasty. I've made risotto, a tasty dish we call food stacks (basically puff pastry with carmelized onions, goat cheese, a slice of tomato, and some basil), and pizza. Just in case you thought I was only going to torture you dairyless, wheatless, low fat folks with desserts.

The four year anniversary gift is jizz in a catheter, right?

Four years ago was my wedding day. I married Mr. Bunny because he was the first man to love me despite the fact that I have a big black oval for a face. (He sees my inner beauty.) As it turns out, he's also the perfect match for me. I can never quite get over my astonishment that he's willing to put up with my crankiness and nagging and fits of despair. 

That blurry figure is Mr. BFB, who performed the ceremony. You can only see Mr. Bunny's hand. Just in case you think I'm married to a guy with a blurry face. Wouldn't THAT make a pretty baby?

I considered trying to get pregnant that same year. Once I'd recovered from finishing my dissertation and moving and buying a house and adjusting to life as a faculty member, I felt like there was a lot of extra time in my schedule. But I wanted to spend a few years being married first. I wonder what would have happened if we had tried then. Would we have gotten to skip this IF bullshit? Would I even want that? As long as there's still hope for a baby someday, I can be grateful for the ways this experience has brought us closer and made us stronger. Or would we have spent those first fairly happy years being miserable instead, going through exactly what we've gone through, but without the deeper understanding of each others' characters we developed in years one and two?

It would be pretty awesome if we conceived a child on our anniversary, if via a very unromantic method. (Everything went fine this morning. I told Nurse Idiot that the bend in my cervix goes anterior, then posterior, and she was in with only a few sighs of frustration. I HATE having some person between my legs sighing with frustration!) Missing out on the fabulousness of that coincidence will be an added source of disappointment if this goes the way it's always gone before.

It's a bit weird to post poems read at your wedding, because taste in nuptial readings is so subjective and personal. But one of the poems read at ours has come to have extra meaning for me in the wake of IF. I think many of us who are the broken ones in the relationship wonder whether our partners would like to trade us in for someone with working parts. And I know my husband fears that if we never have our own child, he won't be enough. And he won't be--something will always be missing, there will always be a hole in my heart. But he's what I would choose if I could have only one thing in life. And I do not think that this will change, no matter how rocky our path.

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution's power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
It well may be. I do not think I would.

IF 101

In the fall, I usually teach a small class in which I work with a co-instructor. We've worked together since my first semester here (with the exception of last fall), but she's from a different unit at Mediocre Institution, so I don't see her otherwise. She's a great woman. She's also a fellow infertile. This emerged immediately because she's got an adopted son who is a different ethnicity, and she chooses to explain that up front. She knows about my situation because she's nosy and kept asking me when we were going to try. (Good to know IF doesn't cure people of that annoying habit.) So when we started trying I told her, and now it's pretty obvious that things are not working out.

We just met up for a pre-semester planning session, and we updated each other on the personal front as well. Her husband is dying, so that's awesome for her, while I'm staring down the barrel of IVF. While I normally prefer to keep my personal life very separate from my professional life, I find that I'm really glad to have someone who knows my situation, and will be sympathetic in a way no other kind of woman could if some weeks I am a complete mess.

On the other hand, she's also one of those people who got pregnant while finalizing adoption proceedings. Those situations must come with all kinds of complex emotions that I can't begin to understand, but some of her comments to me do have a slight "just relax" or "give yourself over to God" flavor. So having her know my situation might also be rather frustrating. We'll see.

IUI tomorrow morning, barring unforeseen complications. I think my egg is hanging out around my appendix right now (I have this whole theory about my eggs never being taken up) so this is all totally pointless, but you know me--I'll do anything to have my cervix assaulted with the Extra Pokey Catheter.

Also, I won't torment those of you on fatless, dairyless, wheatless diets any more with photos of delicious delicacies, but those of you who want to gorge your faces on sweets can find recipes here.