Awkwardness...

Ok, so it's been determined that I probably currently have a corpus luteum.

Taken from that link: "The corpus luteum, which means yellow body in Latin, is what is left of the follicle after a woman ovulates."

The doctor basically said this gnawing, aggrivating pain is actually a GOOD thing! Who knew?

Because, it means that most likely....the Clomid did the job!!! It helped me ovulate!!! I have ovulated!!!!

Now, I don't take a doctor's word as gospel, but when I told him that anytime I "jarred" the left side of my body (i.e. my left leg hitting the ground as I walked) it's pretty uncomfortable, he thanked me for using a clinical term and said that it helped him determine, along with the exam, that he is almost positive that is what this is. He said that probably since I'm not used to ovulating, the corpus luteum is probably irritated right now. So, basically, we have two possibilities for what will happen:

the corpus luteum will cyst over or

the corpus luteum will assist in producing a baby by continuing to release progesterone.

Why is this entitled "Awkwardness?" Because I DID get examined.

In his defense, he actually was very gentle and I had no real discomfort at all except when he was pushing down on my abdomen to feel for possible cysts. He was actually kind of awkward about the whole thing, and it made it easier for me, lol. It was really funny, because after the exam, I'm sitting on the table with the paper sheet covering my bottom half, and he starts to explain what the Corpus Luteum is, and then halfway through his explanation, he stopped abruptly and was like "I'm going to let you get dressed." Wesley said it was as if halfway through the explanation, he realized how long it was, and so he thought about how I'd probably like to get my clothes on before he continued.

***

I have been having the most vivid dreams lately. I don't know if it's because I'm getting more sleep because I'm tired or what. Me and vivid dreams do not go well together. When I was younger and I would have a vivid dream that J.T.T. and I would live happily ever after, I would wake up and burst into tears. And I'd be depressed for at least a day.

I feel like I'm back in grade school again.

The first dream was that I had a baby girl. I've had pregnancy and birth dreams before, but never as vivid as this. I remember exactly what the baby looked like in the dream. Her facial features were so defined. It was so vivid, when I woke up, I looked around for my baby. It was insane.

The dream I had last night has left me depressed, and I probably will be for days. It's like nothing I've ever dreamed before.

I dreamt that somehow, my dad came back. That it was a mistake, and he wasn't really dead. He had been trying to get back to us all along, but it had taken him 23 years to do so. He came back to us. I can still see his smiling face and feel what it was like to have him hug me, and hold me, and tell me that everything was ok and that he would never leave again. I talked to him about how much I was like him, and how even though he hadn't been in my life, I had missed him so very much. He re-proposed to my mother in front of the family, and life just seemed so....complete. So wonderful. And then I woke up.

I have never had a dream about my dad coming back, or being presently in my life. And I don't understand what brought it on. But the dream seems like some cruel joke. When I woke up, still half asleep, I expected to find him somewhere in this world. I expected him to only be a phone call away. The only good I have from that dream is that for a split second, I knew what it felt like to coexist in this world with my dad. And I guess that is worth the heartache it brought when I realized it was a dream.

Then I started thinking, how would I handle it if my dad just magically appeared in my life? To be completely honest and vulnerable, I really feel like I would just cling to him and not let him go. At 23, I would literally crawl in his lap, rest my head on his shoulder, and stay there. It has made me realize how much not having a father could have had the potential to screw me up. I think it did in some way, which is why I bounced from relationship to relationship, searching for that fatherly love. But I didn't downwardly spiral as much as I could have. I have God to thank for that, as well as an amazing family who surrounded me in love. I guess I just wish I had some memory of him. Some way to recall his touch, his smile, his laugh...anything. I just don't understand why he had to go so soon. It's really strange; the older I get, the more I feel this unquenchable thirst to know who my dad was. To be in possession of everything that had a connection to him. To collect the memories of him from others. To piece the puzzle together, to somehow have a glimpse of who he was.

I don't usually talk about these things. But it's on my mind so much this morning.

Scary.

I have had this weird pulling sensation in my ovaries/uterus since yesterday. It has intensified today. It seems like the only relief I get is when I sit down at my desk. Even still, I can still feel dull cramping. When I walk around, it constantly feels like something is being pulled.

I called the doctor's office to speak to my doctor, but she was not in today, and after describing to the nurse what is going on, she set me up for an appointment and said that I needed to get in and be looked at. Despite the fact that I have a follow up appointment already scheduled during the first week of November.

Can we say scary? I'm hoping it's nothing major, but it was concerning enough to call the doctor's office. I've heard too many stories of overstimulated ovaries and such that scare me too badly.

What's worse is the doctor that is in today is...a male. I really, really feel uncomfortable about a male examining me. Being examined period is not fun. I have a feeling they're going to do that oh so invasive internal exam again, where they take pictures of my ovaries. Oh goody.

What a great Monday.

Please pray for me, that everything will turn out all right and I will figure out what is going on.

I still have the touch!

Today, I had a very rewarding day. I helped a teenage mom find temporary housing for herself and her 6 month old baby boy.

When I went to pick her up, he was sitting on the floor on his tummy. I crouched down and of course oohed and ahhhed over him and talked to him, and the first thing he did was look up at me and give me this ridiculously precious grin! One person said "he must really like you to smile at you like that!"

I picked him up immediately and had problems letting him go, hehe. He was just sitting there looking at me and smiling and laughing. It made my heart melt. As I transported them to their destination, hearing him giggle and laugh and talk in the backseat of my car made me literally warm and fuzzy inside. I just kept thinking "one day...one day. This won't be the last time I'll hear those sounds from my own back seat."

He had an adorable headful of curls and was light skinned, with the most beautiful dark brown eyes. *sigh*...he stole my heart.

And I realized that even though I'm not around babies regularly...I still have my touch. I can still pick up a baby and know exactly what to do. I thank God that he has gifted me with this ability, and that it has been with me for years. Most of all, that it has stayed with me.

But of course, this experience has left me even more heartsick for a baby. They are seriously one of the main joys of my life.


I am hopeful for this month. I think it will be very difficult for me to go to my appointment the first week in November and find out that I didn't even ovulate. Pray for me that I will be able to accept whatever happens. It gets harder and harder sometimes.

I suck at being a woman.

That's how I feel, anyway.

My dinner went something like this last night.

After several weeks taking a sabbatical from cooking, I decided to try again by cooking roast. My grandmother makes the most AMAZING roast in the world. We had it this weekend while I was visiting her, so I got the recipe from her and tried it out.

Well, it didn't go well. Not at all.
First of all, since my grandmother didn't tell me to cut up the roast, I didn't. Maybe I should have. Also, she actually cooks it in a pot on the stove with water. She adds potatoes 30 minutes before it's done. Well, it was 7:30 p.m. and still not done. So then we decided to cut it up. I was so incredibly frustrated, because it didn't look anything like my grandmother's, and I felt like a failure.

So, what does a woman who feels like a failure do when her hormones are out of control?

She has a meltdown, of course.

So here I am, melting down while trying to cut potatoes. Full out ugly cry as if I were cutting onions instead of cutting potatoes. I almost cut my finger off, and so Wesley proceeds to take the knife from me. I'm still sobbing, of course, because it just feels like I fail as a woman.

sidenote:

[Failures:
1) I can't cook. I really can't. I think I just need to admit that to myself and everyone else. I have tried, and I have failed countless times. It is not natural, nor is it cute for me. It is stress waiting to happen.
2) I can't get pregnant without the help of fertility medication. Women are designed to conceive. What is wrong with this picture?
3) I am not dainty in the slightest. PCOS doesn't allow me to be. I'm overweight and I have too much testosterone. No chance of being femininely dainty or anything like that.
4) I really have no idea how to piece an outfit together. Usually when I look cute, it's because Wesley has stepped in and provided counsel.]

Anyway, so Wesley takes the knife from me, and I'm sobbing, telling him that I'm such a failure while listing the above reasons, and adding that I can't even cut potatoes, and Wesley looks at me and says dead seriously and rather spirited:

"I would rather have a wife with all of her extremities than one who can peel potatoes!"

So then, with tears streaming down my face, I proceed to break into a side-splitting laugh. He starts laughing as well. It was all quite comical, amidst my meltdown.

All that to say, the roast sucked, and the potatoes were in too long and they literally disintegrated into tiny pieces.

Baking is really my thing. But I can't lose weight if I bake all the time.

***
On my way to my office, I saw a girl who looked to be about 7.5 months pregnant.
She was puffing away on a cigarette.
I wanted to strangle her. Does she not realize how much of a precious gift a baby is?

***

I'm so ready for a vacation. Just 8 more days. I can do this.

Here we go...

For those that follow curiously, I officially started my cycle on Saturday!!!!

After six months of no cycle, I am now regular! (for now, anyway). The Provera worked!

Let me tell you, it has come back with a vengeance. I'm trying to be strong and not throw back the Aleve like I usually do...so far, this cycle has been pain medication free, lol. I've also heard that birthing contractions are like intensified period cramps, so I'm trying to get used to all of that.

Anyway, so this means I will start Clomid on Wednesday, which is our 1 year, 5 month anniversary, lol.

Here's to hoping this is our lucky month!!!