What can I expect from this blog?

The space Blogger gives me to give the blog description is inadequate for my needs (TWSS). So I will lay out the information here:

50% of my blog will be allocated for infertility rants.
50% of my blog will be allocated for talking about cute boys.
50% of my blog will be allocated for being snarky or asslicking about books.
50% of my blog will be allocated for working on math skills.

Friday, November 5, 2010

"War is Peace! Freedom is Slavery! Ignorance is Strength!": My uterus as ruled by Big Brother

What do George Orwell's 1984 and my uterus have in common? They both live in Crazy Logic World! This is what I've learned about sex in the last year and a few months.

  • Sex does not lead to babies.
  • Getting probed by a dildocam and having perfectly timed sex does not lead to babies.
  • Taking fertility drugs, getting probed by a dildocam, shooting myself up with pregnancy hormone, and getting my partner's jizz shot up into my uterus with a catheter does not lead to babies.
  • Doing the previous causes other people to make babies, as if I am a voodoo doll for the fertility of everyone else in the universe.
  • I really should get some kind of commission every time I do a fertility cycle, because someone else is going to get pregnant (this does not include fertile 16 year olds, because they get pregnant no matter what, even with this mythical "sex" thing). 
  • Oral contraceptives are like x-ray specs: they don't actually work (because of the first bullet point--sex does not lead to babies), they are difficult sometimes to claim as a tax-deductible expense, depending on the state in which you live, and they can make you dizzy. 
  • In order to get pregnant, I need to take oral contraceptives first. 
  • Wait, whut?
So this is what happens when you are about to start your first IVF cycle (pending insurance approval). You bleed. Then you need to take oral contraceptives. "It's not for contraception," says my RE. "No shit," I say back. Because, come on. Once again: James Carville's bald pate. Nothing's going to grow in there. But apparently you need to take the Pill so your ovaries can have a rest, as if your ovaries are capable of expelling eggs without shots and prayers and sacrificial chickens. But whatever, it was $5. They may as well be Tic-Tacs. But I will take them dutifully starting on CD3 in order for my ovaries to go on sabbatical. 

Then I get to take something called Lupron, which makes me sing a song I like to call "The Lupron Dance." I'm not sure if that is one of the listed side effects.

Then, the fun needles and drugs part comes in, that is, if the insurance request goes through. If it does not go through, I will see if I can sell one of my kidneys or maybe a lobe of my liver. 

But if it all does succeed, I feel I have given my future child a gift: the gift of knowing that sex had nothing to do with his or her conception. SCIENCE! Babies are made with SCIENCE. Not with rutting. Everything you learned in the fourth grade is a lie, including that nonsense about the United States switching over to the metric system. 

Stop trying to make the metric system happen! It's not going to happen!

1 comment:

  1. God dammit. Now I have the Neutron Dance stuck in my head. I blame James Carville. -dezz