cha cha cha changes…

Let me catch you up on the tornado that has been the last four weeks of my life:

I got a new job! This is bittersweet because I really love my current job.  BUT, I spend over three hours a day commuting AND I have not been making enough to support me and a future kid on my own (especially in the SF Bay Area).  My new gig involves similar-ish work but my commute will go from 1.5 hours to 19 minutes (on public transportation).  That’s an extra 60 hours a month or 30 more days a year of free time!  Also, the new job involves a 38% pay increase-which will just about cover day care when the time comes.  My last day is next Friday and I am going to miss my co-workers and clients terribly.

Finding out I got the job was pretty dramatic.  It took them several weeks to make a decision and I was pretty much freaking out the whole time.  When they finally called me they said they had offered the job to someone else and he accepted.  BUT, they decided to create a position for me too!  It was like the Apprentice (minus the horrible fascist host).

I’m going to Mexico! My new job recommended that I take a week in between so I booked a quick vacation on three weeks notice.  I usually try and keep my trips in the low/mid range sections of the Lonely Planet guide but for this trip I went all out.  My only parameters were lying on a beach and doing nothing.  I decided on Mexico because it’s close, reasonably cheap, and I speak Spanish.  I landed on one of those cheap vacations websites.  They had an option called “vacation of fortune” where you pay an even bigger discounted rate for an all-inclusive package and I went for it.  Shockingly, it seems to have worked out well.  I got flights, 4 nights at an all-inclusive 5 star resort (including food and drinks) in Playa del Carmen, Mexico, for less than $900!  The flights are pretty gnarly (i’m flying from San Francisco –> Las Vegas–> New York–> Cancun) for no logical reason, but hey-the price is right!  Fingers crossed that this isn’t a huge scam.

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My BFF (and other SMC) had her baby! My amazing and wonderful benefactor in this process just had her baby!  She is also a single mom by choice and has been a big inspiration for me making this decision for myself.  The birth didn’t go as planned (homebirth to emergency c-section) but they are both doing great and I’m in love!  Hanging out with this new guy has really solidified for me that this is the right choice.  Or maybe it’s all the baby pheromones?

I went on some dates I met some pretty nice guys and one not so nice dude who mansplained that concepts of Tiki Bars (?) and the Country of Indonesia (a country I have been to and he has never set foot in).  Nothing panned out but the important thing is that I am pushing myself and getting out there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feeling totally recovered. I went to meet with the surgeon and she said everything looks great and I only have to wait 3 instead of 6 months to get pregnant!! Here are the gory photos if you like that sort of thing:


( the tumor they took out)

( my happy tumor free uterus. Those white things are my ovaries.


My MRI. The thing with the X is the tumor.

The time I drove myself to the E.R. while eating a frozen burrito.

I’m generally healing well from surgery with the exception of getting run down really easily.

A few days ago I started noticing that the incision in my belly button was leaking some gross and smelly discharge. I hadn’t been too concerned about it because the area doesn’t hurt and I don’t have a fever or anything. But after four days and a late night google search, I decided to give the advice nurse a call.

They paged a surgeon who thought I had an infection and told me to go to the E.R. immediately.   I have a $250 copay ( because America!) and I didn’t want to waste my money and time for a non- emergency. I asked if it could wait until tomorrow and she said I could get a stomach infection or something so I reluctantly agreed to go.

Anticipating a long wait, I threw an Annie’s frozen burrito in the microwave, pulled on some sweatpants, and drove myself to the E.R. one handedly while eating.
I was seen pretty quickly by a young and attractive doctor. He was very nice but essentially told me that while it was a good idea that I came in, everything looked fine. He suggested I lie on my back and let my belly button air out several times a day.

So yeah I paid $250 to get diagnosed with a dirty belly button. Happy Sunday!

6 days post surgery 


I had my myectomy last Friday and I am recovering great! While the above aftermath is a bit gross it’s amazing that I had a grapefruit sized tumor removed from my uterus just a few days ago.

The surgery itself wasn’t too bad. My friend went with me and she did her best to calm my nerves.  My surgeon came to see me right beforehand so they could put these weird leg massagers on me and to answer any questions I had. She is such a chill badass lady so I couldn’t help but feel that I was in good hands. Then the nurse stuck this giant pad on my butt and I was whisked away.

The guy who brought me to the surgery room had this amazing ghostbusters themed tattoo sleeve and we debated the new vs. old movie the whole way down there.

When he wheeled me inside the surgeons were blasting Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” ( seriously) and it was both epic and hilarious. I got a quick look at the huge robot they were using for the surgery and got a little freaked out but I just concentrated on Jimmy Page to keep me relaxed.

The anesthesiologist came over and we laughed about how he was putting me under with Led Zeppelin in the background.  I think he said something about this being perfect music to trip out to. It relaxed me so much to be around such down to earth and confident people.


The next thing I remember was waking up in recovery and feeling like I was hit by a truck. I asked for pain meds because i felt like I had the worst menstral cramps ever. The doctor came to check on me and said it all went great and a bunch of other stuff I don’t remember because I was super out of it. My friend took me home an hour later.

The next few days were a Vicodin and sleep haze and stomach was super bloated. My surgeon called to check in and she reassured me that everything I was feeling was normal. She said they fill your abdomen up with CO2 gas to make it easier to cut stuff out of you. Unfortunately this and my new inability to go to the bathroom severely decreased my appetite ( a very strange feeling for me).

I weighed myself a few days later and had lost 5 pounds since surgery despite being told I would gain weight. I decided to make the ultimate sacrifice of ordering a pizza in an effort to stimulate my appetite. Strangely, even pizza didn’t do the trick but I managed to eat two pieces before passing out.

Today my pain is pretty much gone but my stomach is still pretty sensitive. I’m able to walk around for about 20 minutes at a time and taking a shower is the best thing in the world.

I’m starting to lose my shit being home all day and reading the news about the apocalypse that will surely happen with this asshole in the White House.

So far I have watched:

1. This is Us ( cried during almost every episode).

2. Seasons 1-4 of Big Love ( i’m a sucker for Mormon fundamentalists)

3. Sister Wives ( do you see a theme developing?)

4. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills ( because i’m all about quality)

5. Sense 8 ( hard to follow at first but really good).

I’ve also read ” All the Birds in the Sky” by Charlie Jane Anders ( witches, sci-fi and San Francisco FTW).

I’m contemplating going back to work early because I can’t imagine doing this for another week. Luckily I have these dudes to keep me company:


IVF pregnancy less successful with two embryos, study finds

Research shows if a healthy embryo is transferred alongside one of poorer quality then chance of pregnancy is reduced by 27%.

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Well this has me second guessing my decision to transfer my one PGS embryo and my one “iffy” guy together.

Read the whole article here.

Happy New year??

Everyone is obsessed with talking about how 2016 was the worst year ever.  I partially agreed with them as 2016 saw the election of a fascist sociopath as our president and we lost Prince, David Bowie, Carrie Fisher, George Michael, etc. but I was never very passionate about it…until New Years Eve.

Me and a few friends had tickets to a show to see the band Sleater Kinney.  I was super, duper excited to have NYE plans that didn’t involve going to some mediocre party (while secretly wishing i was at home in my PJ’s).

We got to the venue super early so we could have a good dinner beforehand.  We were having a hard time finding a place to eat because we had no reservations and it was NYE (oops) so we were walking around popping into places to see how long the waits were.  While standing on a corner near a park we noticed a small basset hound run into traffic.  He got hit by a car going about 15mph, rolled under it, and was spit out the back end.  The car didn’t even stop.

The dog started howling and running toward the curb so i got in the street and grabbed him.  He was screaming in pain and i comforted him while we all thought about what to do.  A bunch of other people came over to us and a couple yelled out that they saw someone searching for his dog in the park.  We told them to go get this person ASAP.  Then the dog kind of collapsed in my arms and I thought he was dead.  We then noticed him breathing and realized he was probably in shock.  Then his owner came running and threw himself on top of the dog sobbing.  We comforted him and we helped him get in a taxi to the vet.

So yeah… I ended 2016 holding a dying dog in my arms.  I think this must be a metaphor or something.

 

Stupid Feelings

I just heard from one of my best friends in the world that she is pregnant.  She is in her mid-thirties but it was unplanned and she was on birth control (a less than 1 % chance).

She was very afraid to tell me.  She called me up crying and said that she feels terrible getting what I am trying so hard to get….by accident.

I assured her that I am so happy for her and her partner (I really am!) and they have been the most amazingly present, loving and supportive friends through everything in the last two years.  They even took me to my egg retrieval.

BUT

I also had to choke back tears while we were talking.  I explained it away as a stuffy nose but I’m pretty sure she knew.  Even though she was giving me the space to have my feelings I just couldn’t bring myself to have them.  I fucking hate feeling like this.

She kept assuring me that this will happen for me too-but there is a possibility i won’t ever have this experience.    I have to have a major abdominal surgery and wait 6 months before implanting my one “good” and one “iffy.” embryo.  While I am healing I have to lose 2o more pounds to make sure I am optimizing my chances of getting pregnant.  And I’m doing this as a single mom. And there is a 30% chance it won’t lead to a pregnancy.

I have to do all of this while watching my friend’s belly grow. I have to do this while another one of my best friends has her baby in February.  I feel like the most selfish person in the world writing this.

I don’t want either of them to think they can’t be happy or excited around me.  I want to share in their experiences because they are my dear friends.  I want to throw them baby showers and make them adorable animal themed outfits and quilts.  And I will lovingly do that stuff.

And I will also be sad and resentful and frustrated that this road has been so fucking difficult for me.

And I will remind myself that its ok and possible to hold both sets of these feelings.