Posts Tagged ‘sex’

Fun Tips I Learned Today

Here are 2 additional Pontifications that I learned today….

1. There will be a time in your pregnancy that you will want to tell everyone for 2 reasons-

a. You are joyful.

b. You are starting to look more like the Michelin man, and less like the office hottie you once where. You suspect the FAT RUMORS are beginning to fly. Please DO NOT announce your pregnancy solely out of vanity. Yes, even if you do live in NYC and can no longer fit your sausage foot into your stilettos, you may have to fake it for a while! Try secretly wearing some attractive maternity clothes, or unbutton the top of your pants (your mom friends can show you how to make a lovely elastic tie out of a hairband, so your pants won’t fall down.) WEAR SCARVES- it will draw attention to your face, and people might not notice your middle as much. And if all else fails, you can pull a Christina Agulera, and just tell your fans and friends that you are CARBO LOADING for your next tour.

Make sure the time is right for you and your partner. Tell the people that you are close to, the one’s you would tell good or bad news to. Don’t bother to tell your office rival (Who can, undoubtedly, still fit into her choo’s) or anyone whom you have distate for. It’s bad juju for your good fortune.

On a good note, your skin is starting to change with the increased circulation and hormones, so your colleagues will either think you are GLOWING or that you’ve just had some great lovin’. A little mystery never hurt!

2. This is far less compelling than point 1 but it’s important to address. Yes, you will feel barfy up until the end of the first trimester. You may not actually expel anything, but you may have waves of nausea like those you might recall from that “lost weekend” in Cancun (?). TRY GINGER BEER. I swear by this. My hubby and I discovered this by accident. Ginger Beer is not Beer (unfortunately) but it is like an extremely strong ginger ale. Ginger has been known to calm the tummy, and the mixture of fresh ginger juice, sweetener and fizzy beer bubbles does wonders for you! You only need about 3 oz  or so and you are good as new. You can get ginger beer at Trader Joe’s or any fancy grocery store . Make sure it has at least 25% ginger in it, or your just drinking Schwepps. 

Any other fun facts in your arsenal? Feel free to leave a comment!

Phenomenal Woman: a poem

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. 
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size 
But when I start to tell them, 
They think I’m telling lies. 
I say, 
It’s in the reach of my arms 
The span of my hips, 
The stride of my step, 
The curl of my lips. 
I’m a woman 
Phenomenally. 
Phenomenal woman, 
That’s me. 

I walk into a room 
Just as cool as you please, 
And to a man, 
The fellows stand or 
Fall down on their knees. 
Then they swarm around me, 
A hive of honey bees. 
I say, 
It’s the fire in my eyes, 
And the flash of my teeth, 
The swing in my waist, 
And the joy in my feet. 
I’m a woman 
Phenomenally. 
Phenomenal woman, 
That’s me. 

Men themselves have wondered 
What they see in me. 
They try so much 
But they can’t touch 
My inner mystery. 
When I try to show them 
They say they still can’t see. 
I say, 
It’s in the arch of my back, 
The sun of my smile, 
The ride of my breasts, 
The grace of my style. 
I’m a woman 

Phenomenally. 
Phenomenal woman, 
That’s me. 

Now you understand 
Just why my head’s not bowed. 
I don’t shout or jump about 
Or have to talk real loud. 
When you see me passing 
It ought to make you proud. 
I say, 
It’s in the click of my heels, 
The bend of my hair, 
the palm of my hand, 
The need of my care, 
‘Cause I’m a woman 
Phenomenally. 
Phenomenal woman, 
That’s me.

Maya Angelou

http://www.poemhunter.com/

Sexy drawers and egglets!

17 egglets as of Wednesday. Pretty exciting news. The nurse on the phone was so sweet, filling us in on the details and telling us about our 2am HCG shot. I even wore cute underwear for the shot. I know it’s stressful for both of us, and I figured having sassy-pants on would at least make us feel a little more like US ! So I got out of my frumpy pajamas when the Bear was setting up the shot, and put on my cutest pair of drawers that he hadn’t seen before. I bent over the pillows and “assumed the position”— for the intramuscular injection that is! The needle looked HUGE. It usually helps me if I sing or try to laugh or cough while it’s going in. (I learned that from my acupuncturist). For some reason, I just started saying “Ho,ho,ho,ho,hoooow!”. I sounded like an S&M Santa !

I don’t know if it was the relief that the shot was over, my new lacy drawers, or my sexy Santa impersonation, but the Bear started getting a little amorous. Of course, then we start laughing hysterically because we CAN’T do anything about it, since we have a pact with the RE to go 3 days before the transfer without any lovin. We are just cracking up because of the irony of all this. Me saying, “what’s another few hours, they’ll never know! I’ll only need 17 of your guys on friday!” The Bear saying he wants “optimal results and we have to wait.” Obviously he’s “driving the car” on this one and who am I to mess with the laws of science? It’s just silly that you have to NOT have sex in order to make a baby through IVF, but I know he takes his numbers VERY seriously. Funny nonetheless. I think I won’t forget that soon!

The first time we ever tried to do the HCG trigger shot (for IVF#1) we were in a skybox at the Boston Garden. My friend had given us 2 tickets to see the Celtics Playoffs on the Bear’s birthday. It was a great night, surrounded by friends and drinking free beer in the skybox. We went in the bathroom at 8:30pm, and my friend kept watch at the door. It turned in to a nightmare! The HCG vial had somehow broken in its paper box and the powder and glass were everywhere! We rushed to the hospital hoping the Center for Infertility would have a spare vial in the Hospital pharmacy. For 3 hours, the physicians in the ER called everywhere, trying to procure a tiny replacement. I thought I was going to loose all my eggs. Then, around 11:30 pm, the pharmacist from a Village Pharmacy had unlocked his lab and hand delivered another vial. I can’t tell you how I cried! The next day I sent him and his staff 2 dozen cookies and became a fan forever!

So this time was obviously better than HCG#1, although the Celtics game WAS fun! I think this experience, as daunting as it is, has brought me and the Bear closer together. I am glad to have him here with me through this process.

So instead of writing about how I am scared and anxious about today, I will say that I am THANKFUL for the opportunity to try to add on to our family. I am THANKFUL for our dear friends and family who have supported us through this journey. And I am THANKFUL for love, and for fate, which has brought me to this moment.

Fingers, crossed, chest, out, tail-feathers high!

WHAT ARE YOU THANKFUL FOR TODAY????


IVF and the Newlywed: The Secret Garden

I just wrote a love letter to a Farmer in Mass.

He’s the grower at the Farm-share that we recently joined. When you live in a big city and have no “dirt” of your own, it’s inspiring to still reap the benefits of freshly grown food. Maybe it’s more meaningful to me right now, as my mind is very focused on sowing a bountiful harvest, both inside and outside of my person!

 

sowing seeds

sowing seeds

 

 

Yesterday was a rainy fall prelude, nestled between ripe sunny days. Secretly, I LOVE drizzly, sunless mornings (provided they don’t come too often). I light candles and bake; cooking hearty stews I pull from my old recipes. Rainy weekends force me to SLOW DOWN. There’s something about the womblike silence of a foggy day that brings me back to center.

I keep listening to the Energy that surrounds me, again telling me to BREATHE, and that everything will be clear in due time. The rain yesterday brought me a little time to think. My husband and I sat in the warm glow of dusk, and feasted on our bounty from the farm. We talked of hopes and plans. I realized that what’s been tormenting me, even more than our recent loss, is the uncertainty of what to do next.

Before we spoke, adoption, egg donation, and IVF all offered equal possibilities and equal anxiety. But once we broke each possibility down, the fog seemed to lift a little.

I need a break from these meds and this IVF rollercoaster. I’m afraid to loose another one, but I’m open to doing it one more time and then re-accessing. There is of course, a clause in all of this. I will have the rest of this month, and possibly next, to bask in my own power and take a BREAK. That means no doctors, no blood tests, no ultrasounds, no shots, etc etc!!! I can enjoy acupuncture and bikini waxes without worrying about the next person checking out my “candyland”. We can have sex based on passion and our own hope for procreation, and when he has to (or chooses to) blow his horn, he won’t be doing so because a nurse has called to advise us that it’s “time”. We can “come” and “go” freely for four to six weeks! I’ve forgotten what that feels like!

Then , after my holiday of primal bliss, I will thereafter succumb to a cycle of medically assisted reproduction.  I will be a happy patient, probably a little more grounded because I’ve given myself a chance to rest. We will supplement with acupuncture and Chinese herbs, and try to find time to enjoy our second year of marriage.

In the event that the next round of IVF is not successful, we will re-access and decide if we should give it another go, or form a new plan. I think we will explore receiving a donor egg, if we need to. I think any child born or received into love is one which is treasured and holy. I do not think I need to be the genetic mother of this baby to be its mother.

We talked of adoption, but when I asked him what was truly in his heart, he said that he wanted to go on the journey of experiencing a birth together. He said he wanted to be there for Dr. visits and feel the baby kick in my belly. It made me feel very close to him.

I think we would like to adopt eventually, but it might be wonderful to go on that journey of love and have a child together. Any child, no matter it’s age, race or origin, would truly be our beloved. I know this as truth, so it’s really about finding the best way to make this happen.

We spend our whole lives trying to find the “way” don’t we ? As rebellious teenagers…. as young women landing our first job and finding our selves…. As lovers and mothers and daughters and friends. Can we find the time to reap our “truth” and make our life all we hope it to be?

I’ve talked to my acupuncturist about this harvesting of truth. I told her that I wish to think of my body as a sacred landscape. If I think about my whole Self, receiving the treatment, and if I nourish my whole self and not just my womb, I am harvesting my sacred landscape. It sounds a little ethereal, but it helps to validate and reinforce the Self. That way , no time is wasted time on this journey. It’s not just two lines on a pregnancy test or the bounty of the final outcome that’s important. It’s the sowing of the seeds, the harvesting and the loving moments we take to nourish the Self, which will fortify us through this challenging time. 

I wish you all wisdom, peace and a good harvest.

M

IVF and the Newlywed: Lost and Found

Lost and Found

Sometimes things are too fresh, too green. You can’t talk about them until they settle. That’s how I was feeling this weekend. I just couldn’t bring myself to put my insides to “words”. Perhaps if I were to “paint it out” things would have gushed forth like butterflies, like blood. 

I spent the weekend vacillating between turbulence and limbo. That ether-state of decision-making. A band-aid to my soul.

Friday night. Starless sky. Lying in bed with my big Boston boy. “I’m so sad, “I said, “I thought I was over this, but I’m not.” He held me and said. “We’ll never get over this, sweetheart. We’ll get BEYOND IT, but not over it.”

I think of this Loss. My third Loss. I think of all that life-potential that could not hold on. I blame myself. The scars in my womb from fibroid surgery. My age. My weight. When does the blame stop? When can you look at yourself again and feel whole and beautiful?

I am usually a happy person. A conduit of good energy. I have friends I would do anything for. Friends who I won’t talk to right now because it’s just too hard.

Sunday morning. I woke my sleeping Bear and said, “Let’s think about adoption.” We can still keep trying with IVF, but we do want more than one child, so why not explore the options. Groggily, he agreed. We hugged and kissed and laughed with the languid ease of weekend morning love.

Sunday afternoon. I obsessed over cupcakes. I just found a lovely new book exclusively on CUPCAKES. The cover features a bit of vanilla heaven with a sugared violet on top. I’m not sure where this new obsession with cooking has come from but cupcakes are my secret passion. They remind me of childhood birthdays and modern weddings, and Martha Stewart perfection. Maybe if I start to practice now, by the time I am (fingers crossed) a mom, I can become the best cupcake maker on my block. 

So I mixed my eggs and milk, and frosted with the back of a spoon, and in the end I had 24 lumps of cake. Really uninspiring looking. But hey, it was my first attempt! And even through they were ugly they tasted DELICIOUS!

 

A cupcake story:

Spring 2008. My Boy and I went down to visit friends in New York City. I was getting out of the shower when he surprised me with my engagement ring “I wanted to do this on the top of the empire state building,” he said, “but we ran out of time.” My engagement ring is my grandmother’s. It’s the ring I have always wanted to wear. My grandparents had a very happy marriage and although I never met them, I know my grandmother is looking down on us and sending lots of Wisdom and Love our way.

So this was a splendid weekend with my sweetheart, celebrating his birthday and his first trip to the Big Apple. We walked through central park and met my best friend for drinks by the pond as swans glistened past.

That night I lost my wallet at a dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen. Lost????? Not sure, but it was GONE. We had $14 left and two Amtrak tickets after we checked out of the hotel. We used most of our remaining cash to buy subway tokens to visit  police stations and file reports. Uptown than downtown, and scurrying back again! We didn’t have enough for lunch or dinner, but walking down from Port Authority was passed the Cupcake Café. Although the location has changed, the Cupcake Café in NYC brings back the warmest memories for me. My time in grad school in the Big City. Working in Manhattan for some wonderful designers. Sitting with friends for gazpacho and carrot cupcakes and musing over theatre, art and life.

We had a few bucks left, enough for a pair of cupcakes and two coffees. A welcome respite from the chaos of the city street. Sitting across from my Boy, gobbling a bit of lusciousness before we went back home. Basking in our newly engaged love. It was the perfect frosted dream to a weekend I will never forget.

These are the things I need to hold on to right now. Love, sweetness, the treasures in my life. No matter how complicated things get in our lives, it only takes a few simple things to bring us back to the heart of the matter. Back to the HEART.

 

Yum!

Yum!

The Things You Give Away….

I wanted to confess something….

 

You might be wondering why I called this blog “IVF and the Newlywed” when I haven’t really been spending a whole lotta’ time talking about my uterus or my sprightly egg count. It’s just that I can’t. I find the IVF process itself to be thoroughly exhausting and I have discovered it’s extremely helpful for me to focus my mind on more INSPIRING, EMPOWERING and TASTY topics. Right now, those ethereal things have been the juice that has kept me going. Perhaps it’s a smokescreen to the real “issues” of the fertility-challenged, but at least it keeps me laughing!

 

Now for today’s topic: The stuff you give up…..

When I got married, I traded in my sporty convertible for a lumbering black jeep. (This is not a metaphor!). My lease was up on my car and I was scared to drive it on slippery icy days. I also wondered how MILF-like I would look with a baby seat in the back and the ragtop down. How would you get a kid out of a 2-door sports car anyway?

So in the days between our wedding and reception, my husband and I picked up our new little SUV. We opted for a smaller, boxy kind that had a cleaner engine, 4-wheel drive, and really good gas mileage (relatively speaking). It was a stunning, aloof shade of black, with tinted windows and big sidewall tires. I knew I would feel safe in this car, and I liked the feeling of riding high in the saddle. In Boston, it’s all about being the top-man on the road, as you careen past bad drivers and shout nasty words from your car!!!!! (Often with your windows closed so as not to truly upset anyone!). I was a bad-@ss yuppie.

Lately I’ve been missing my convertible. I’ve also been missing the sofa we gave away to upgrade to “married furniture”. It’s been hard for my husband to understand. Sometimes, when I’m amped up on the baby-med hormone shots I’ll just sit across from the new sofa and glare at it. I even told it “I hate you!” once. (No response from the couch). 

What my husband may or may not understand is that these were my “single” things. A sexy blue sport scar with buff leather seats that screamed “I’m successful and fantastic, and I don’t NEED your money!” And that sofa bed–  one of the first big pieces of furniture that I purchased for myself, acknowledging at the time that I was a new homeowner and was going it alone. Through the years, this couch was my refuge for long nights of girl talk and even longer nights of crazy Fall  s ex. It was soft, and velvety, and it was MINE.

(Oh the things you can do on a rolled arm couch………But I digress!)

I think I miss those things because they represented my former-life to me. The carefree, sassy girl with money to spare. Successful, self-protected, smug. Sometimes I feel like I have traded in an old life for a new one, and gotten rid of my “stuff” but I don’t know what’s going to replace it yet. Will it be sweet baby furniture, or a suburban garden filled with ripe tomatoes and love? Will it be an empty nest? What are the things He and I are “building together”?

Oftentimes, it is that limbo between single lass and newly married lady that makes you feel like you are floating. It’s hard to know what you will land on. Will it be a soft, cushy new sofa, or the floor of an empty nursery?

I talked to my Advisor about this. It came out like gunpowder, “I’m giving up all this stuff, and I don’t know what’s replacing it yet!!!!!” She told me that with every new thing you bring into your life, you have to give up something else. It just happens.

I don’t know what will come into our lives to mark the passage of our first year of marriage. I only know that when I wash the Jeep it SHINES, and when I cuddle on that couch with my Sweetie, there’s no place I’d rather be….

 

Wishing you many happy momentsblog sexycouch….

Let’s Talk About LOVE

Talk about LOVE…

 

This weekend I learned (again, for the third time) that you CAN be a “little bit pregnant”. Unfortunately our Mothers were misinformed when they gave us our sex ed talk.

 

Being a “little bit pregnant” is like being a little bit lost in a dark wood. You might be close to the road, but if you are lost you will feel miles away from it. 

 

Sometimes it’s important to go into those places that scare you.

 

When you are forced to go to that dark place, you learn who stands beside you, and who runs for cover. You learn who’s hand you can hold, who you can cry to and who you can form a survival plan with. When you get lost, you discover who is there for you, who is missing you, and who will do their damnedest to save you. 

 

My husband held me for FOUR hours while I struggled through this dark place. I felt like all my blood was leaving me (and in some ways it was) but I’ve never felt so safe in all of my life. 

 

This is LOVE.

 

This is a man who would travel to that scary, cold place and come find me there. This is a man who has taught me to TRUST, to open up to another, and to recognize my power …and humor in the darkest of moments. 

 

I think of all the little things he has done, and all the big things, in our first year of marriage…

My Catholic husband has walked up the hill in a snowstorm to surprise me with candles for my menorah at Hanukkah. While this seems trivial, it was his way of recognizing that our faiths could blend together in this union.

 

My big bear of a boy has brought “offerings” to our neighbors’ Buddha. Our neighbor has a great faith in Buddha and has erected a small sanctuary in her dry cleaning shop. She said that if you bring Buddha some small bananas, then He will be pleased by your offering, and thus grant your wish. One day this summer, her daughter was running her shop, and in walks my husband and puts some bananas on the top shelf of Buddha’s shrine. No one told our friend they were there. I guess Buddha doesn’t actually EAT them, because in about three weeks the shop wreaked of rotten fruit and there were flies everywhere! They have never forgotten our openness,(or our naivete) and I am charmed by this story every time I think of it. My Man is born and bred Boston. He’s faith lies with his mother, the women in his life, the Red Sox and his G-d. However, for me, he would bring tiny bananas to a golden Buddha statue in a neighbor’s dry cleaning shop. He would do this to honor our wish for a child, because it is my HOPE that someone is listening….

 

I think of these things and they take me out of that dark place, and into the arms of the man I was meant to be with. A newlywed, at 41. Somehow it’s not that scary anymore.

 

Wishing you joy and good fortune and LOVE.