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Thursday, November 28, 2013

I'm in a Glass Case of Emotion!

AKA Happy Thanksgiving(!!!), AKA I started a Clomid cycle. And yes, this is truly how I feel:

I'm gonna go ahead and throw in a Jump Break here, because this post got over-the-top long-winded. So if you're interested in reading my return-to-the-RE drama, read on, and if you're just here for the crafts, you can skip this one. :)


Yep. It had been over a year, but we finally made it back to our Reproductive Endocrinologist this month. The whole getting-back-into-the-swing-of-things process has been a lot of hurry up and wait.

First, I needed my annual exam from our OB-Gyn, because the RE won't start anything until the results come back A-Ok there. A week later we were in the clear so we called to make an appointment with the RE (to discuss a game plan) but they didn't have any appointments until the following week. So there's another week. At that appointment, the RE was super excited that I'd lost weight (I'm currently down about 10lbs... I had lost about 18lbs but gained 8 or 9 back over Tishrei and I haven't been able to lose it since. I did run out of Metformin, and/or was taking it sporadically there, so I have a hunch that the Metformin is what's doing the trick, unfortunately), but because I'd lost weight he was hesitant to move on to the injectables like we had discussed doing before we took our break (partially because I was nervous about moving on to the injectables). In short, he was afraid that the injectables would work TOO well and we'd end up with more follicles than we could manage, and would have to scrap the cycle. Cool.

In the end, we're trying 200mg of Clomid again. It's kind of nice to be back in familiar territory. And walking into the office for that meeting was awesome because all of the secretaries and nurses, etc. were SUPER excited to see us. There were a lot of hugs, smiles and a bunch of playful accusations that we'd left them for another doctor. They also did blood work for both of us that Thursday, saying it should be back late the next week.

Welp, it didn't come back for 12. Freaking. Days. I think I was freaking out so much because I was scared I'd have another case of cold feet and we wouldn't end up back there for ANOTHER year. Or that my period would inconveniently (yet miraculously) come while we were waiting and then we'd have to wait even longer because the RE wouldn't write the prescription for Clomid until the blood work was back, and therefore we'd miss this month's cycle.

When it finally did come back Tuesday afternoon, they wanted me to come in the next morning. But I work on Wednesday mornings from 6:30am-9am, and the blood work hours are 6:30am-8am. #winning. Normally, that'd be fine- I don't work Thursday mornings, so I could go the next day. EXCEPT that the Thursday in question was Thanksgiving, so the Brooklyn office was closed, and they suggested I head there the next Monday. #winning

Basically, like a crazy person, I moved heaven and earth to find coverage for my shift and was able to make it to the Wednesday appointment. You don't even want to know how many favors I owe said coworker. It was actually only my 2nd time ever going by myself, without E. True story. While I was there the NP informed me that my thyroid levels were slightly elevated, so she wrote me a prescription for Synthroid. It was a 2.9, which is on the high end of normal, so she said if we weren't trying to get pregnant they'd never put me on meds for it, but pregnancy can elevate the levels so they want to prepare for that. Actually, they checked it twice- once in their office and once at the lab they sent the blood work out to, and at their own office it came out as 2.1. So it's really just a precaution.

Ha. So much for cutting it short. The point is, now I'm on Synthroid, a prenatal vitamin plus Vitamin D, metformin 3x/day, and Clomid. And now I'm ALREADY (on day TWO) an emotional basket case and sobbed like a baby (ironic) this Thanksgiving. Which I really felt was legitimate at the time, but now a few hours later and the suggestion of my husband, I'm pretty convinced that it was the Clomid.
I think that's enough for now, I'll post more about our attempt at a Low Amylose Thanksgiving meal ASAP.

Have I ever mentioned that Alanis Morissette forever warped the concept of irony for me? Jagged Little Pill was my 2nd CD, ever. 5th grade. I was young and impressionable. I love her, but I think my entire most of a lot of people my age have this problem. You should totally watch this if you have the same issue. It'll clear some things up. #firstworldproblems

Jim Morrison Might Be Proud...

Still here! Haven't forgotten about this. I have a bunch of photos of projects from the past month or so that I just need to sort through and write about. And, I guess, the biggest news is that we started seeing our RE again after a year+ long break. I'll save that post for another day (/month? haha) and keep this one limited to The Doors. Or, really, the door. Our front door. I don't know if I ever posted this "before" pic (from my Instagram, haha), but this is what our hallway looked like....

I have no idea why our front door is open a crack here...
Don't get me wrong, I love this shot. That's our "Family Tree" frame wall over there. And our West Elm runner that I'm thankfully still madly in love with. Note that this was before we I painted the off-white molding white. Such a good move, btw. But we had this leftover quart of paint (Benjamin Moore's Dolphin at 75% strength- I know, it's shocking that an attempt at a custom color didn't work out... ::sarcasm::) that I'd bought while trying to find the right gray for our living room (more on that here) and it was burning a hole in my... storage closet? Long story short, I decided to paint the back of our front door. So I tested it out on the peep hole (I always feel super dirty saying that- is there another word for it??) and it stayed like that for, oh I don't know, 3 weeks? Thankfully, my husband never even noticed it or he would've realized I was up to something and tried to stop me. ;) Here's that look (let's ignore the fact that I still haven't painted that off-white trim a the top of the door):

Yep, those are shelves from a discarded book shelf still waiting to be brought down to the garbage area. 
The other day, a friend texted me a photo of her newly-painted black door, and that lit the fire under my tush. When E ran out to do a couple of errands, I whipped out the paint and a brush and went for  it. Here it is after one coat (yikes):

I was about 1/2 done with the second coat when I heard E coming up the stairs... womp womp. I  opened the door for him (chivalry ain't dead) and told him to come in very carefully. He was surprisingly a bit wary of this project, pre-completion. But once that second coat got up there and everything had dried, voila:

I'm a little obsessed. I started referring to it as "Industrial Chic" bc it kind of looks like a metal door. Which is slightly ghetto but in a cool way (just go with it). I kind of want to marry it. And just for kicks, here's a new version of that Instagram pic:

A few other discrepancies between the new and old views aside from the new door color: the entryway table and art.
I smile at the door practically every time I walk by, even from way back here. It's actually a little worrisome. I was thinking about painting all of the doors this color but I think I'm going to hold off on that now and just let this be the star of the show. Hope you like it as much as we do (because EE is sold on it now too!).