Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Hostess Orange Cupcakes
I guess that does something to explain my laziness in posting lately, although other excuse candidates include not-enough-happening and needed-a-nap.
There's plenty happening, though. A month after making the appointment, we got to see Dr. King for Heather's pap smear and to talk about this Clomid challenge business. Neither of which, to be honest, really required her cute-as-a-button involvement. There's not much complexity to a pap smear-- although we were surprised to hear that Heather's uterus isn't actually all that tilted-- and the Clomid chat was, "Okay, so call when you get your period and we'll take some blood." The Nashville people already wrote the prescription, so we can get the Clomid on our own, then Heather will go back, give some more blood, and then I guess we can sign away our savings.
Once again, it almost feels as though things are happening. Heather's due to start her next cycle about ten days from now, and the whole Druggy McDruggerson challenge will be over in three weeks. (Seriously, how many times do I have to say "Clomid Challenge"? Is there another term for it? The words blur in my head to "Clash of the Titans," but I can't help thinking that the clashing here is really minimal-- depending on how moody Heather actually gets from these hormones.)
her sister is now pregnant with her fourth child merited one, for example. Somewhat less to my delight, Heather has also embarked upon a nutritional odyssey that has manifested itself in our refrigerator via cut-up fruits and pure carrot juice. The pineapple chunks were good, but drinking carrots is disconcerting as hell. (Less repulsive than you'd think, though.)
I've almost stopped updating friends and family at this point. Obviously, I've almost stopped blogging. We've settled on a donor, we have doctors and prescriptions and prenatal vitamins, and we're just twiddling our fingers, waiting for Heather to bleed. (This never ends.) Still, it's waiting, and I'm not as inclined to focus on what happens after the waiting as I used to be. It's step after step after step, test after test after test, appointment after appointment... We've cried wolf so many times, updating folks on our progress, that I feel like I'm wasting their time. When something gets harvested, we'll talk.
No, that's not true: I'll be sure to warn them when Heather's hopped up on artificial hormones. She's got a temper.