Who wants a book? Tell me your wacky pregnancy trick

My goal for this blog (most of the time) is to point out the absurd, funny and outrageous things that happens as you go through the crappy-ass infertility journey.

As many of you know, I wrote a book, The Inadequate Conception, in order to make lemons into lemonade (with vodka, that sweet tea vodka is even better). It was both cathartic and it was also something that I wanted to share with other pregnancy virgins who've gone through similar experiences, and perhaps never looked at all of the treatments, injections, hare-brained ideas, and other stuff in a humorous light.

So, here's the deal. Leave a comment with the wackiest thing you ever did or tried to get pregnant (whether it worked or not), and I'll pick a random comment and the craziest one and send both a copy of my book.

Can't wait to see some of these, and note that this info could be used for book #2!

Shut the frick up, fertiles

Borrowing a line from one of my very favorite Web sites, I'd just like to give a shout out to all of the fertiles who say stupid and insensitive things to those of us who either:
1. Can't have children due to infertility
2. Decide not to have children at all.

While deciding what wonderful words of wisdom to opine about today, I immediately sat up straight on the couch (as opposed to lounging comfortably), when I read the following FaceBook post from a friend of mine who decided not to have children:

...got quite irritated today when a random lady at yoga incessently debated my very personal decision not to have children like our 30 second relationship entitled her to make life choices for me...

Apparently my friend, who is a huge dog lover and rescuer, and Ms. Have-a-baby-or-your-life-is-meaningless were talking about caring for canines, and the Babymaker told her that people who have pets are good with children. Excuse me lady, but have you heard of Michael Vick?

She went on to tell my dogophile pal that she "seriously needs to reconsider having children" because once she has them she "will realize that my world is now incomplete and unfulfilling."

Ahem... Excuse me Ruiner-of-friend's-Zen-from-yoga, but I beg to differ. Firstly, my girlfriend's decision not to have kids is none of your effing business. That's a highly personal decision that you just stomped all over. What if she told you that should stop breeding so that no more idiots were entering society?

Second of all, there are millions of us who can't conceive, can't get our adoptions to move forward, can't afford more fertility treatments and/or adoption, and can't bear to continue trying to have our hearts broken.

I have news for Ms. Asshat. I bet I lead a more full life without children than she does with, and I know my amazing girlfriend does. I won't tick off a list of accomplishments or things in my life that I'm happy about, but I could and it would probably kick hers in the tail.

Zip your lip and mind your own beeswax.

Why going to the dentist reminds me of my childlessness

Sometimes it's the oddest places that make me think about my childlessness - not the traditional McDonald's playland, school yard, church or Dugger house (19 and Counting), rather Home Depot (dad and son picking out tools); veterinarian's (little girl with new kitten) and this week, it was at the dentist's.

My dentist's office is pretty high tech as teeth doctor's offices go - flat screen TVs with the latest software tracking my records, X-rays of my chompers, etc.

I went to get my teeth cleaned, as I do pretty religiously every six months. Yes, while my uterus doesn't cooperate at all, my insisors, bicuspids, and molars are in fairly pristine condition (I'd rather trade some cavities and root canals for my non-functional womb).

Up on the big ol' 42" flat TV, showed an out-of-date version of my medical history, which said that I was "undergoing fertility treatments." I didn't have the nerve to tell them to remove it from my history. So, once again, I relived that period of my life a bit while I had the hygenist's hands in my mouth. And, since I didn't tell them otherwise, I'll just have to see it again in November when I go back.

The other thing that just kills me is that since I only go every six months, every appointment is just another reminder that I don't have a child (my son from Vietnam or a biobaby) yet. For the last five years, each time I schedule my next cleaning, I have thought, "I bet I have a baby/my son before I am back to see Dr. P." And, thus far, that hasn't happened.

Perhaps I'll try the nitrous oxide next time to make it more fun.

A quick funny because I am in a really rotten mood

Adoption stuff is not going well...but we will prevail. It truly stuns and appauls me how our own government could leave hungry three-year olds in a mold-infested orphanage. So, I'm not in a very good writing mode right now.

In the meantime, I wanted to share a little funny with you, since that helps me laugh instead of cry.

One of my girlfriends who went through a few IUI rounds, said that she often wondered if those of us who've been through vials and vials of fertility meds will glow in the dark one of these days.

If anyone starts illuminating, please let me know.

Get out your armor infertiles!

It's no surprise that most of us infertiles have issues with certain holidays, and some are much harder than others. For me, Mother's Day is an off-the-charts stinker of a day.

In our multi-media centered world, I can't turn on the TV without seeing a commercial for flowers, jewelry or cards for Mom; email promotions are touting sales for gifts for moms; and even the Twittersphere is getting into the act. Facebook is safe...for now, but that will change this weekend. We might want to go dark on Facebook on Sunday to save ourselves from seeing all of the happy messages for moms.

And, I know that if I go to the grocery or pharmacy, I am sure to be met with "Happy Mother's Day" from well-intentioned clerks. It's happened before and they feel like barbs instead of good wishes.

It's a double-edged sword; on one hand, I want to celebrate the mothers in my life: my mom, sister, grandmother, aunts, and friends. But, on the other, it's just another very blantant reminder of the fact that I won't be getting a crayon-drawn card or burnt pancakes (that is, unless my dogs and cats surprise me this year).

I already have a plan to combat my emotions of that day, which is sure to be tough. I'm going horseback riding.