You expect my uterus to do WHAT?!?!











So I woke up this morning and the temp was still up, 98.19. I am putting everything else behind a block for those that aren’t into TMI.  Read the rest of this entry »



{January 28, 2008}   The more you know? I call BS

So I watched all 90 some minutes of the National Geographic special about pregnancy.  The more you know? Ha! I was doing alright with the whole baby idea until I really watched the cells dividing and how the baby actually forms.  I thought I was a pretty competent person, but damn, I can barely cook dinner sometimes, let alone play my role in the formation of another human life.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve thought of the actual pregnancy and all of its complications before–what if I take the wrong medicine, eat the wrong food, accidentally become exposed to something toxic and the baby is born with a defect?  Hell, what if I do everything right and something somewhere was just a little off-kilter and the baby has a problem?

I’ve thought of all of those before but I never really thought about the simple stuff, like how the features actually form.  You may or may not know this, but the little ridge between your lips and your nose is formed when two flaps meet in the middle to make your face.  Yeah, I know about cleft palate (what happens when these don’t join together right) but I never really thought about it (does that make sense?).

Maybe it’s because this is looking to be a real possibility, you know?  Although the tests keep coming back negative, there are some other things that are making me think that maybe we did it this month.  The rational long-time  ttc-er in me says “God damn it, don’t go getting worked up” but the hopeful woman in me says “16dpo…that’s an achievement. You never know.”



{January 26, 2008}   Ticking moments…

Greetings and welcome to Boo’s first ever live POAS-athon.

I told myself I wasn’t going to test this weekend, what have I become? In the past week I’ve pretty much taken two $40 bills and just pissed all over them. God, I hope our future kids have no hopes for College.

I don’t know what’s gotten into myself, after a year of being good, I am right back at where I started from. My first cycle, I was convinced I was pregnant. I was 100% sure that there was a future hell raiser dividing its little heart out in my previously barren uterus. My boobs hurt, I wanted to puke, I was cramping, there was spotting…oh yes, dear readers, I was PREGGO! (and yes, I used to use that word before I realized how unbelievably annoying and stupid it sounds). Sure enough, the cramps stopped and with them came the news that my uterus was barren.

Well Shit.

The next couple cycles, there was a little hope but nothing that quite compared to that first month of unprotected conception. Months went by, cycles started adding up and slowly but surely I’ve switched my tone from “I am! I am!” to “Ha, as if! As if!”

So does someone want to explain to me why I’m sitting here staring at another $3 worth of urine soaked waste?

Maybe it’s because I’m having a psychotic break. Maybe this is the midlife crisis of an unassisted conception quest. I had my pre-ttc appointment with my doctor, but since we were “just going to let it happen” (ahh the innocence of someone that hasn’t held items dripping with her pee in her hands) we didn’t outline a plan of action if this thing didn’t happen. Maybe it’s because I realize that over a year and nothing has happened might mean that there is something scary or expensive in our future.

Maybe it’s because I seriously want to believe that this is the month, this is the cycle. As I’ve been preparing for my grandma’s 80th birthday party, I realize that my family is getting old. My grandma, one of the people who I used to think would never die, is reaching the stage in her life where she is dividing up and labeling her posessions so that “she knows the right people will get them when she passes”. Looking through 80 years of pictures of my family, I realize that my parents aren’t getting any younger either. I see pictures of my mom and dad and realize how old they look now. I realize how quickly they’ve turned grey and how tired their eyes look. I know how much I loved being with my grandparents and how much I miss the ones the died when I was a young child and I don’t want our kids to go through that.

So as I sit here, thinking about raising my children in a world where my grandma and my parents don’t exist, I’m not going to lie, I am tearing up.

So maybe it’s all of these “symptoms” that have never happened before that make me think this might be the cycle. Maybe it’s the fact that a year of just letting it happen hasn’t done anything and the thought of spending thousands of dollars and undergoing invasive tests scares the shit out of me. Maybe its the little voice in the back of the heads of every couple that tries for more than 6 months and has no results. The little voice that screams “maybe you’ll never have success at all” and makes you wonder if you’re fated to be someone’s adoptive parents or even the crazy cat lady in the creepy house at the corner of the block.

Maybe it’s all of this, but maybe it’s just the thought that every morning that I wake up and I’m not pregnant is another day less that our children will have with the people who have meant the most to me, the people who have made me who I am. It’s a day less for my parents to revel in baby hugs and sticky kisses. It’s a day less for my grandma to tell my children stories about when their mom is a little girl.

By the way–the test was negative.

-JustBoo-



{January 23, 2008}   Amazing song…

Wow. How true

Read the rest of this entry »



Well one topic has been coming up time and time again on the boards recently (and no, it’s not about how amazing Liam is or how ugly frankendress is), what is the proper way to handle a BFP.

No one’s stupid, with a board themed around TTC and PG, people are going to be excited about a BFP. However, anyone that has been lurking for any decent amount of time (or n00bs that don’t have their heads up their asses) will realize that there is a large # of women on BOTB that have been trying for many fruitless cycles.

It boils down not to the news itself, but how someone delivers it.  A “OMG, I can’t believe we’re pregnant!” vs a 20 post saga about the poas experience or “I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW FERTILE I AM! WOW! ONE TIME WE HAD SEX FROM 10 FEET APART!!!!1! HIS SPERM ARE MAGIC!!”  There is an obvious difference there.

People will be bitter even if someone posts a thoughtful BFP post, regardless of the conception conditions, but someone that is so careless about their method of delivery makes regular posters upset (and with good reason).

It is salt in a wound when someone announces a BFP and no one has a CLUE who they are. It’s one thing to lurk, but if you don’t post regularly, why would you post a BFP unless to be an AW.  If you don’t post regularly or lurk, why would you post at all? If you lurk, one would hope that you’d have enough sense to realize the dynamics of the group before they post.

However, as they love to point out, it’s a public message board and we can’t stop them from posting.  However, its a public board and people are just as entitled to bitch about how much it pisses them off.

Everyone says “Wait til you get your BFP, you’ll see” and assuming I ever do get a BFP, I’ll try to practice what I preach. However, it’s not looking like that is going to happen anytime soon.



First of all, she wants to know how a mysterious someone from her past found her Nestie Screenname. Seriously, methinks someone might have a stalker. Imagine, someone from your non Nest-related past coming and iming you on your Nest Name. That’s like Spiderman finding the Batcave and sending off the Bat Signal. Who does that? Seriously, who does that?

Secondly, she’s really pissed about the people that come on the nest and post about their BFPs (Big Fucking Positives for those of you that don’t frequent the boards) after a mere 1-4 months. I totally agree with her on that one. It’s really obnoxious when someone pops on the board and talks about how they thought they were out for the month and weren’t really even trying but looky looky!!A BFP.

For those people that get pregnant, I don’t think BFP is the right term, I think BFD (Big Fucking Deal) is. Not that they shouldn’t be excited, yeah–you made a baby–yay. I think it’s just that, a BFP for someone that wasn’t really trying is like someone getting overly excited when a 50 year old man poops in the potty like a big boy. Obviously it wasn’t that big of a challenge, you’ll have to forgive me for not pissing myself with joy.

From 5months to a year, it’s exciting, but kind of like…the baby didn’t throw up on you during your family pictures. The odds are small that it would have happened anyways, but the fact that you escaped fluid-free makes you a little giddy.

Now when someone who has had obviously IF issues (I say a year or more) then I get excited. It’s like a baby sleeping through the night everynight for the first week.

Two years or more, the excitement level is up to when your toddler tells you to “Twy Sentwa” when you’re looking for your keys. Pretty damn exciting!

However, for you women that come on and talk about how you weren’t even trying but here you are–pregnant (even worse, pregnant AGAIN), big freaking whoopie. You managed to insert tab A into Slut B.



{January 20, 2008}   The psychosis of pre-pregnancy

They say that pregnancy does crazy things to a woman.  Physically, emotionally, hormonally, mentally–there is nothing that is not affect the moment that two lines appear on those pee-soaked sticks.

However, very little is said about women trying to become pregnant.

There are really 4 types of women when it comes to baby making.

Type One: “.001%”

These women take their birth control exactly as prescribed, exactly on schedule.  They take every reasonable precaution (except for avoiding sex altogether) but sure enough, they’re having a baby.

Type Two: “The Britney Spears”

These type of women seem to be the most fertile and the least intelligent.  They seem to have no idea how babies are made, what birth control is or how to be a responsible parent or adult.  You’ll find these women most often at Wal-Mart, on Maury or in the bars wearing a too-small tube top.

Type Three: “Switzerland”

They know how things work and they know how to make babies.  They’re not preventing a baby, but they’re not actively trying to have one either. However, this type often has nervous breakdown the last few days of their cycle wondering why they haven’t taken this more seriously and wondering if they are pregnant.

and lastly

Type Four: “Psycho”

This type of woman knows exactly what is coming out of every hole in her body and has it noted down in three places (at minimum).  This woman can describe for you exactly what her cervical mucus looks like at any given point during her cycle and has just about every ttc and pregnancy book memorized.  She is often found staring at her chart, refreshing her books, shopping online for baby clothes or at the dollar tree, stocking up on more pregnancy tests.

You know them, I know them, maybe we’ve all even been them now and then.  Women who do all sorts of strange and neurotic things to their bodies and their psyche (not to mention their spouses) in the quest for a baby.

The most interesting of all of these types of women are types two and four.  We’ll start with type two for today.

For anyone that finds amusement/home on an internet message board focusing on reproduction, you can spot a type two right away.  A typical post usually contains any of the following:

  • The words “Prego”, “preggers”, “knocked up”, “Preggie/Preggy”
  • Any nickname for a body part “The girls”, “His thingy”, “My hoo-ha”
  • Complete lack of knowledge for the reproductive system
  • Overuse of punctuation
  • Lack of punctuation
  • Numerous misspellings (either accidental or purposeful)

These women will list random symptoms and then ask if they are pregnant.  Sometimes there are no symptoms but more of a description of the last time they had sex.  Then they expect the members of the board to use their utero-vision to see if they are indeed pregnant.

Sadly enough, these women often come back within a day or two announcing their pregnancies.

Life’s a bitch sometimes.



I want you to think back to High School. Remember when some teacher, who was undeniably VERY uncomfortable, sat you down in some classroom and made you watch a video about how babies were made. The video that was considered out of date 10 years before you were lucky enough to view it likely repeated the same thing through the 20 minutes of informational diagrams: SEX = Babies.

I know the video that I watched pretty much said one thing and one thing only. If you look at a boy, he’s going to want you to kiss him and if you kiss him you might get pregnant. If you had sex with him you were going to have a baby and if you had protected sex, you were still likely to have a baby, because sex = baby.

So when I started dating my now-husband, I thought long and hard before I let him play “Hide the sausage” because I sure as hell didn’t want a little pants-crapping mini-person running around. I got on the pill, made him wear a condom and things were good. After we were engaged and I had been on the pill for awhile, we decided that the condoms could stop. After all–we wanted kids anyways, so what was the harm if we had an ooopsie baby.

So we had the ceremony and promised to only pester each other for the rest of our lives and friends and family rejoiced. We came home, looked at each other and thought “now is as good as a time as any” and I stopped taking my pill.

One month–two months–three months…hmm, interesting. Well, you know–it does take awhile for the body to get normal again after being on the pill.

Four months, five months, six months….hmmm, wow. Well, surely the pill is gone by NOW. I’m going to start charting and figure out when we should be hugging in that “special way”.

Seven, eight, nine, ten months—Well I’ll be damned. Maybe we’re just not timing it right. Let’s do it more often (:insert excited look from husband:)

Eleven, twelve, thirteen months— Shit.



et cetera