Check out this piece that ran on cafemom.com - it's 10 bizarre ways to try to get pregnant, submitted by yours truly.
Ever tried any of these crazy methods? Chime in, please.
1. The gravity method: Putting your rear end up on a pillow, putting your legs over your head, or standing on your head post-coitus.
2. Invoking your fertility god of choice: Lots of options here ranging from St. Gerard, the Catholic Patron Saint of Motherhood (not sure why it’s a man), to Kokopelli, the Native American fertility deity, to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of fertility, to Aditi, the Hindu goddess of fertility.
3. Feng shui: Putting a ceramic elephant on either side of the bedroom door; another suggestion is to place dragon statues in the bedroom next to the man’s side of the bed so that some oomph is added to his sperm.
4. Spoonful of syrup: Downing a teaspoon of cough syrup every day for a week before ovulation thins out cervical mucus and makes it easier for the sperm to swim their way to the egg.
5. Sipping sludge: Drinking one teaspoon of 100 percent Grade B maple syrup (Aunt Jemima’s apparently isn’t good enough) and one teaspoon of 100 percent cocoa powder mixed in a cup of coffee first thing after waking ... for two to three months (at least according to the woman who worked at the health food store. And yes, it tastes like the bottom of the Mississippi River).
6. The use of technology: HormonalForecaster.com, which claims it “uses unique algorithms and patent pending technology to shade fertility charts to predict ovulation and indicate fertility.” Other software programs include Cycle Watch and Ovulation-Predict, but there are dozens of them.
7. Counting on crystals: For the earth goddesses among us, placing crystals like rose quartz, moss agate, carnelian, garnet, and smoky quartz on your uterus, ovaries, thighs, and the center of your pubic bone is said to enhance fertility.
8. Hungarian mineral baths: In Budapest, there are healing mineral waters flowing underground. They are said to soothe arthritis and even help fertility. I tried that bad boy out -- just had to stomach a bunch of hairy women (myself included), a rotten-egg sulfuric smell, and lukewarm, yellowish water.
9. Steaming the hooha method: Chai-yok, or a vaginal steam bath. Fourteen different herbs are seeped like tea, and the daring woman sits on a stool with an opening so that the steam can penetrate the gynecologic regions and increase fertility.
10. Traditional Chinese medicine: A TCM specialist swears by taking Wu Ling Zhi, which is the fecal matter of a flying squirrel; yes, popping pills of flying squirrel poo!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Reliving an infertility breakdown
Yesterday, I met one of my dearest friends in the world for lunch at our local historical society; it's also a lovely facility for a wedding reception.
My beautiful friend's soup was too spicy and she ran to the restroom to get a Kleenex. As I sat noshing on my quiche and watching her walk back from the hallway, a flasback of epic proportions washed over me.
Four years ago, we attended a wedding reception of a co-worker of my husband's at the same place. I was going through my first or second ovulation induction, doing two follistim shots a day. I had gained a few pounds, except that I really didn't notice it until I went to put on my dress for the wedding -- less than an hour before we had to leave. It spanned across my rear end with no wiggle room at all and I felt like a sausage in a casing, ready to burst at the seams. I rummaged through my closet and, with the help of one of those slimming, spandex, bike shorts contraptions and a dress that had always been a little loose, managed to make myself somewhat presentable.
We were having a nice time at the wedding and I was only mildly self-conscious about my dress. Darling husband reassured me that I looked great. Enter the bathroom mirror.
I went to the bathroom and when I came out to wash my hands I was horrified at how I looked in the mirror. My gut was sticking out in the dress and it was definitely too tight in the rear. I broke out in tears at the sight (and I'm sure all of those hormones didn't help either). Unfortunately, one of my husband's colleague's wives, came in at the height of my despair. Not wanting her to think that I was a complete freak show (notice I said "complete"), I divulged that I was doing fertility treatments which made me fat and moody. She empathized, gave me a hug, and wiped my tears. Still, I was mortified.
And, rounding out my top three infertility breakdowns:
- a rest stop in Northern Indiana where I also discovered that my rear end had filled out my skirt way too much for public display (and for my personal comfort - I couldn't sit down in it), and that I'd have to find an alternative outfit before meeting friends for dinner in Chicago that evening
- 90 minutes later, the same day, raging out of control in a Bloomingdale's dressing room, not only lamenting over how enormous my backside was, but also the ridiculous price of a skirt that I would probably never wear again (and I haven't); I'm pretty sure that the mother and daughter in the dressing room next to me ran out in their underwear for fear of what I might do next.
Of course, there are too many times to count when I have cried my eyes out in the comfort of my own home or car. Church is another big place for these outbursts.
Where's the worst/most public/unique place that you've had an infertility breakdown?
My beautiful friend's soup was too spicy and she ran to the restroom to get a Kleenex. As I sat noshing on my quiche and watching her walk back from the hallway, a flasback of epic proportions washed over me.
Four years ago, we attended a wedding reception of a co-worker of my husband's at the same place. I was going through my first or second ovulation induction, doing two follistim shots a day. I had gained a few pounds, except that I really didn't notice it until I went to put on my dress for the wedding -- less than an hour before we had to leave. It spanned across my rear end with no wiggle room at all and I felt like a sausage in a casing, ready to burst at the seams. I rummaged through my closet and, with the help of one of those slimming, spandex, bike shorts contraptions and a dress that had always been a little loose, managed to make myself somewhat presentable.
We were having a nice time at the wedding and I was only mildly self-conscious about my dress. Darling husband reassured me that I looked great. Enter the bathroom mirror.
I went to the bathroom and when I came out to wash my hands I was horrified at how I looked in the mirror. My gut was sticking out in the dress and it was definitely too tight in the rear. I broke out in tears at the sight (and I'm sure all of those hormones didn't help either). Unfortunately, one of my husband's colleague's wives, came in at the height of my despair. Not wanting her to think that I was a complete freak show (notice I said "complete"), I divulged that I was doing fertility treatments which made me fat and moody. She empathized, gave me a hug, and wiped my tears. Still, I was mortified.
And, rounding out my top three infertility breakdowns:
- a rest stop in Northern Indiana where I also discovered that my rear end had filled out my skirt way too much for public display (and for my personal comfort - I couldn't sit down in it), and that I'd have to find an alternative outfit before meeting friends for dinner in Chicago that evening
- 90 minutes later, the same day, raging out of control in a Bloomingdale's dressing room, not only lamenting over how enormous my backside was, but also the ridiculous price of a skirt that I would probably never wear again (and I haven't); I'm pretty sure that the mother and daughter in the dressing room next to me ran out in their underwear for fear of what I might do next.
Of course, there are too many times to count when I have cried my eyes out in the comfort of my own home or car. Church is another big place for these outbursts.
Where's the worst/most public/unique place that you've had an infertility breakdown?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Don't waste a snow day
Ice, ice, baby. Snow day!
So, not only does TV viewership increase dramatically during weather- induced home stays, but internet usage rockets and hot chocolate consumption is off the charts.
And, there's one more popular thing to do when snowed in - that's right, sex. There are statistics that show a rise in birth rates following snow days. Makes sense - cuddling in front of the fireplace, trying to stay warm by canoodling in bed -- so I'll be curious to see if a bunch of babies are born in 40 weeks. Remind me in December.
Oh and before I forget, if you would like to give birth on 11-11-11, try to conceive around Valentine's Day - or for my IF peeps, try your IVF transfers, FETs, or IUIs, then, too!
However, for infertiles like me, we can do it til our hearts are content (hehe) and it wouldn't result in a bun in the oven, although it does help stave off the cold.
So, stay in and get busy, whether it results in a baby boom or not.
So, not only does TV viewership increase dramatically during weather- induced home stays, but internet usage rockets and hot chocolate consumption is off the charts.
And, there's one more popular thing to do when snowed in - that's right, sex. There are statistics that show a rise in birth rates following snow days. Makes sense - cuddling in front of the fireplace, trying to stay warm by canoodling in bed -- so I'll be curious to see if a bunch of babies are born in 40 weeks. Remind me in December.
Oh and before I forget, if you would like to give birth on 11-11-11, try to conceive around Valentine's Day - or for my IF peeps, try your IVF transfers, FETs, or IUIs, then, too!
However, for infertiles like me, we can do it til our hearts are content (hehe) and it wouldn't result in a bun in the oven, although it does help stave off the cold.
So, stay in and get busy, whether it results in a baby boom or not.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
When is enough, enough?
For infertiles, this is something that after the second or third IVF - sometimes sooner and sometimes later - becomes something that completely occupies our mind. When have we given it everything we have to get pregnant?
Excerpt from The Inadequate Conception:
I’ve never been a quitter. I’ve always believed that if you work hard enough and put your mind to something, almost anything is achievable. In every other life pursuit that I’ve had, this theory has, for the most part, been accurate. But that’s not how it works in the infertility world. It’s a dimension where just because you flushed your birth control pills, have sex when you’re ovulating, or you get a major head start by having five day old embryos implanted, doesn’t mean you’ll get pregnant.
But, if you’ve been going through this stuff long enough, at some point, you may decide that it’s time to throw in the towel (or time to burn your menstrual cycle charts in the fireplace). There are plenty of reasons:
• Your frustration level is causing you to resemble the Wicked Witch of the West (“I’ll get you my little preggies, and your little diaper bag, too.”)
• You’re near financial ruin
• You’ve filled a landfill with ovulation test sticks and negative pregnancy tests
• Your age is now closer to that of a grandmother than a first-time mom
• You’ve achieved what some might consider “stalker status” with your fertility doctor
• It’s too hard to keep hoping and praying, only for a negative home pregnancy test or single-digit beta level to blow that dream to shreds
I know there are tons more. What didn't I list?
Excerpt from The Inadequate Conception:
I’ve never been a quitter. I’ve always believed that if you work hard enough and put your mind to something, almost anything is achievable. In every other life pursuit that I’ve had, this theory has, for the most part, been accurate. But that’s not how it works in the infertility world. It’s a dimension where just because you flushed your birth control pills, have sex when you’re ovulating, or you get a major head start by having five day old embryos implanted, doesn’t mean you’ll get pregnant.
But, if you’ve been going through this stuff long enough, at some point, you may decide that it’s time to throw in the towel (or time to burn your menstrual cycle charts in the fireplace). There are plenty of reasons:
• Your frustration level is causing you to resemble the Wicked Witch of the West (“I’ll get you my little preggies, and your little diaper bag, too.”)
• You’re near financial ruin
• You’ve filled a landfill with ovulation test sticks and negative pregnancy tests
• Your age is now closer to that of a grandmother than a first-time mom
• You’ve achieved what some might consider “stalker status” with your fertility doctor
• It’s too hard to keep hoping and praying, only for a negative home pregnancy test or single-digit beta level to blow that dream to shreds
I know there are tons more. What didn't I list?
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
I'm moving to Hollywood
Ahh...the Oscar nominations were announced this morning. Big deal, right? Typically, I'd say no, but not this year (OK, I do admit that it is to me since I'll once again be able to see Colin Firth in a tux. Can you say "dreamy"?)
Of course, when "the latest accessory on the red carpet is a baby bump!" the Academy Awards take on a whole new meaning.
Yes, that was a direct quote that I heard someone on E! say during their Red Carpet show during the Golden Globes as if a big belly is a Harry Winston million dollar necklace or the new Jimmy Choo's. Besides the fact that I have a real problem with someone calling a pregnancy an accessory (what does that say to young impressionable girls or us infertiles who have tried to get pregnant with all our might?), what the heck is up with all the movie stars with buns in the oven?
As many young actresses and pseudo celebrities have shown us, they don't always make the best decisions. So, why the sudden need to give birth?
I mean what's in the Evian that these celebs are drinking? Does the smog and traffic in LA encourage fertility? Does Botox and collagen actually mimic follistims and Femora? Or, is there some underground fertility doctor using unorthodox methods to get these waify girls knocked up? Whatever "it" is, I want to know about it.
Though in thinking about how much money I've spent trying to get pregnant, I could have just as easily stuffed a pillow in a pair of granny panties and bought a vintage Valentino with some awesome duds. Heck, I probably could've even afforded to pay Ryan Reynolds to walk me down the crimson rug with what I've paid in fertility treatments.
Of course, when "the latest accessory on the red carpet is a baby bump!" the Academy Awards take on a whole new meaning.
Yes, that was a direct quote that I heard someone on E! say during their Red Carpet show during the Golden Globes as if a big belly is a Harry Winston million dollar necklace or the new Jimmy Choo's. Besides the fact that I have a real problem with someone calling a pregnancy an accessory (what does that say to young impressionable girls or us infertiles who have tried to get pregnant with all our might?), what the heck is up with all the movie stars with buns in the oven?
As many young actresses and pseudo celebrities have shown us, they don't always make the best decisions. So, why the sudden need to give birth?
I mean what's in the Evian that these celebs are drinking? Does the smog and traffic in LA encourage fertility? Does Botox and collagen actually mimic follistims and Femora? Or, is there some underground fertility doctor using unorthodox methods to get these waify girls knocked up? Whatever "it" is, I want to know about it.
Though in thinking about how much money I've spent trying to get pregnant, I could have just as easily stuffed a pillow in a pair of granny panties and bought a vintage Valentino with some awesome duds. Heck, I probably could've even afforded to pay Ryan Reynolds to walk me down the crimson rug with what I've paid in fertility treatments.
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