I went to my clinic to get a final blood draw, and ultrasound this morning to see what my levels are and what my Endometrium (lining) is. Dr Yelian did it himself.

Results: Endometrium 12.4, E2 185+, P4 26.87. My PIO dose has been increased to 1.5ccs. Ow! The transfer is tomorrow at 2:15pm. I will need to be there 30 minutes early, and I will be having acupuncture both before and after the transfer.

I stopped by the Temple today to light candles, meditate, pray, I asked a monk for a blessing, I asked for strength and grace, for this blessing to become a reality, and for happiness good health and harmony for my family. I also asked for forgiveness because I’m a tremendously flawed person. But I am becoming someone I like.

Then I went and got my hair done, because you know what? I don’t want to spend the next few weeks looking at my dark roots. I’m such a girl (I don’t know where this vanity comes from, I’m not even a big makeup wearing person). On the way home, I stopped Costco and bought a big fragrant pineapple, some milk, and some nuts.

You know what I didn’t do today? I didn’t hide me knickers at the ultrasound. In fact I took a picture to prove it.

I even wore hot pink ones just to give my otherwise boring underpants choices a pop of color. I’m starting a knicker revolution. Not really but my blue skirt and hot pink underwear made me laugh and Dr. came into the room before I could shove them out-of-the-way. So here you are. My knickers. It’s not the full shot but its them all the same. Also notice I was not tidy and didn’t fold anything. Its been about 100 degrees lately so knit skirt, t-shirt sandals, I’m golden.

Meditations tonight, some happy thoughts, my first butternut squash soup of the season. A nice peaceful, quiet, evening.

Thank you to everyone that responded to my earlier post, What ever happens is out of my hands now. But I will be praying my little Jinyu snuggles in tight.

Lastly, I’m going to post my IVF song. Don’t look at the video just listen to the music and lyrics. It’s by Ian Britt, an incredible artist and a friend. It’s what I’d say to my imaginary baby. (Shameless plug) You can buy Ian Britts amazing work on iTunes.

Wish me luck. Thank you so much!

The Shape of Us


50 Shades

For a few months now I’ve been hearing about this “50 Shades of Grey” trilogy of books, which have flown off the shelves and is now in pre-production to be made into a movie, rumored to be directed by Angelina Jolie. Que giant eye roll. Seriously? 6 kids and you want to produce that? Really? Ok then, Ive questioned her judgement for a long time.

Everyone and their idiot brother has done an article or a segment on how “these books are changing marriages everywhere!”

These books started as Twilight Fan Fiction, which should have told me already that they would be horrible and after seeing middle aged women’s reaction to the whole Twilight thing, I have to admit, I was embarrassed for my gender.

I read one of the Twilight books because my stepdaughter wanted to read them, and I was appalled by the poor writing, the stupid teenaged angsty plot and the general lack of good decision-making. But ok, who am I to tell someone not to read something so she read them. All of them. Shes also seen the movies. When I rent them for her she makes me leave the room because she knows I will make fun of them. Somewhere toward the middle of the movie she comes to get me and we make fun of them together.

My personal reading tastes tend to lean more toward history and classics and though I enjoy an occasional chick lit kind of book it’s not usually my kind of thing.

These books are straight up Mommy Porn. That include spanking, and other S/M type er.. other graphic stuff. Look I don’t care what goes on in anyone’s bedroom. Swing from the chandeliers for all I care, I just don’t really need it in excruciating detail.

The main character is a 23-year-old VIRGIN (again with the giant eye roll), who bites her bottom lip a lot, says “oh my” and “Jeez” every 3 sentences. She also can’t remember to take her birth control pills and is basically why we don’t currently have a woman as president.

The man is older rich, incredibly good-looking, misunderstood and a tortured soul. The girl, decides she’s going to try to change him. Because that always works out so well.

Anyhow. I’m not really sure the point of this post and I don’t want to discourage anyone from actually reading, but the fact that I’ve seen these books at Costco appalled me. It’s like “YAY for mediocrity!” Ugh. Cant we do better than 50 Shades of Complete Crap? Please?

Honest Toddler

I happened across this blog yesterday and nearly peed myself laughing (always with the oversharing).

I thought I’d share it with you. Because there just hasn’t been enough funny in my life lately, and assuming the Fertility Circus ever actually produces a live baby, it will become a whole other kind circus all together. One I will look forward to but still. A Circus.

Have a read. Its hilarious!

Honest Toddler


Because of finals and Mothers Day we haven’t seen my stepdaughter in a little over a week. She loves cupcakes from Sprinkles but I don’t love paying 3.50 each for them. So I made my version of the Sprinkles Chai Spice cupcake. The fact is that I love anything chai flavored, and until I made these I had no idea how to make that spicy flavor. Turns out its super easy.

Mix it all together and store in an airtight container. I have a tiny Tupperware thing I use. You only need a teaspoon or so (I prefer a teaspoon and a half for added spiciness) mixed into the frosting, icing of your choice, preferably home-made. She tried them, and declared they are better than Sprinkles!

As you can see, I’m not a great froster. I can bake and cook, and it usually tastes pretty good but it’s not always the most beautiful presentation.

I also promised some pictures of bracelets I’ve been making. I’ve been experimenting with color combinations though obviously nothing too crazy. I’m also posting a picture of the red string bracelet I was talking about in the “Red Thread of Destiny” post.

I’m waiting on some purple beads, and want to get some blues and greens to mix it up but these I’ve made in the last few weeks.

The pink quartz one, with the moonstone is supposed to be a tangible reminder of your fertility. I don’t know if it works but I love moonstone. The grey one is a combination of Labrodorite and Moonstone, has a Japanese Good Luck cat charm. The solid red one is red coral which is supposed to represent good fortune. The red coral with the watermelon color is a form of tourmaline. I don’t know what it symbolizes but I thought the combination was pretty especially for summer.

The spare room I’ve been working on, it’s still not finished, too much plain white. It’s kind of got placeholder furniture now. Pardon my purple yoga mat. I’ve been doing yoga in there, and I like to read there too.

I painted the room, the trims, the ceiling, the little vanity in the corner, refinished the floors, made the curtains from linen, bought the bookcase from craigslist, and the chair and ottoman from Ikea. Spending a grand total of less than 500.00. If we ever actually do have a baby I wont feel bad about getting rid of whatever is now there. But for almost 5 years it has just sat empty.

These are the things I’ve been working on in my free time, and when I can’t sleep. They are the things that have kept me busy and my mind occupied while going through the process of trying to complete my family.


I have tattoos.

3, in mostly places you can’t see but I know they are there. I got them in the 90’s, when I was really coming into my adulthood. At the time, I thought it was important that I marked these major events in my life. Permanently.

The first one was an act of rebellion in a marriage where I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Where his violence, alcoholism and judgment, that is to say, him judging me to not be smart enough, well read enough, educated enough, pretty enough or good enough consumed me.

The second represented my divorce, and the forced independence I tried to face alone. I was so scared. It marked forever, the ending of my naivety, my blind faith, and of my trust in, there are so many words I could put here, but lets just leave it at people.

The third was about me finding myself, my voice, my path in life. Which at 27 I still hadn’t found. Looking back, I have to smile at my arrogance. I had no idea where I was going or who I wanted to grow up to be.

All these years later, I don’t think about them much, except to think that I’d be happier if they weren’t there. I wonder, if they weren’t there, that the painful memories of these events would have quietly slipped into the recesses of my mind.

At some point, after the third tattoo I realized that I have enough scars. Some you can see and some you can’t, but that I didn’t need to mark events of my life on my body. In my early 30’s I started to have them removed. But the process was so blisteringly painful that I stopped. You can remove them, but not cleanly, and not without more scarring.

Given the opportunity to do it again, I wouldn’t. I don’t regret them exactly but I’d prefer to be unmarked. The scars on the inside can be hidden, the ones on the outside, especially ones you gave yourself, can’t be. I’d prefer to go through the remainder of my life with a clean slate, a clean skin.

But that will probably never be.

I want to state for the record that I hate the word “step daughter/son”. It offends me. But I use it because my stepdaughter has 2 functional and loving parents. I am not one of them. I am secondary. I do not discipline, I do not judge. That is her parents job. I get to be the “aunt” she has fun with, who taught her to use chopsticks, to ride a bike, who plans birthday parties with her. I get to be the one who taught her to drive. Who helps her with her iTouch, who suggests songs and apps she might like.

I don’t count as much. I step aside a lot so her mother doesn’t feel like she has to share or is trod upon. I do my best to never make my stepdaughter feel like she has to choose. Because I know her loyalty lies with her mother. I understand that, it’s as it should be. This child never asked for the chaos of divorce. So it’s all of our jobs as parents to make sure she isn’t raised in chaos.

Should I ever be lucky enough to have my own child, I want him or her to grow up like my stepdaughter has. She is confident, smart, clever, optimistic, secure in the knowledge that she has a family and extended family that love her, she knows she will be well looked after, that she’s pretty, she is poised and graceful and kind. She loves animals, and school, plays the piano and looks forward to college.

J.K. Rowlings said “I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons. Let them never be Stupid Girls.”

Boy or girl, let them grow up as unmarked as possible.