Crazy

I wish I could imbed the Official video...

Truthfully, I don't think I've ever had PMS, or it was so long ago that I don't remember what it is like. This is logical considering I don't menstruate and my progesterone levels have proven to be low. However, this doesn't get me off the hook. This means is that I can't blame any of my bitchiness on PMS. No scapegoat for me. Yep. I can be a bitch. For no reason at all (I'm sure I feel like there is a good reason at the time, but there usually isn't).

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry about doubting the power of hormones and subsequently PMS. Whoa! I've been humbled during the infertility process and I am in awe at how intricate and amazing the human body is and what a delicate system it is. One deficient chemical and the whole baby making process fails. I am in awe yet again.

Lemme splain.

After the IUI, Dr. K. put me on 200mg Prometrium twice a day to keep my lining thick for implantation. Progesterone is an enigma...or maybe snake oil. Take your pick. I've read that it causes cancer, prevents cancer, treats menopause, initiates menses, prevents miscarriage, controls PCOS, clears skin, treats migraines as well as PMS. Some people have a wonderful time on progesterone. It increases their sex drive, helps them sleep, improves their mood, etc. However, progesterone has a dark side for some people... irritability, bloating, depression, dizziness, shortness of breath, headaches, anxiety, and on and on and on....

I've reached a whole new level of crazy with Prometrium. The dose may be higher than what an average woman produces, but nonetheless I feel like I have some serious roid rage of the Incredible Hulk variety. Throwing the fridge off the balcony kind of crazy.

Thankfully I am aware of it and don't act on theses urges, but it is incredibly frustrating to be so angry for no apparent reason. Poor Ryan. I've found I start to feel better when I talk it out, but I'm sure my rants are not fun for the listener. I try to keep myself in check and if I feel the hot rage bubbling up I try to keep my mouth shut and seek some solitude. Sometimes I think the self isolation makes the frustration even worse, but I don't know which is better.

If it turns out I am pregnant (test is this Sunday) I am supposed to keep taking progesterone for 8 more weeks! I don't know if I can handle 8 more weeks of crazy, so I called Dr. K. If I am pregnant we will reevaluate my natural progesterone levels and hopefully reduce the dose...if we can.

You might want to include Ryan's survival in your prayers for us.

Do you think Ryan would get me a Great Sword for Valentines Day?

Forever Young

My sister Erin emailed me two poems that my niece Sophie wrote the other day. She just barely turned 9. I don't think I even knew what a poem was when I was 9 and I think my first attempt at one in 4th grade English had something to do with a paper cutter being like a tiger. In fact, I think it was a haiku. Paltry compared to her verse.

But Sophie isn't like other little girls. She doesn't like loads of girly stuff or what ever the Disney Channel is slinging. At 4.5yrs she loved dinosaurs. I took her to the Thanksgiving Point Dinosaur museum where she shocked me by looking at the skeletons of these huge lizards and listing off their names: Dimetrodon, Iguanodon, and Archeopteryx. Did I mention she was only 4.5? I looked for the name plates to make sure she was right and thought she might be able to visually associate the name (she couldn't possibly be able to read dinosaur names at under 5yrs could she?) with the dinosaur. The name plates were on the far end of the exhibit...too far for anyone to read. This tyke knew her stuff. She got all of them right. I was even more impressed because these weren't your run of the mill dinosaurs like the Triceratops, T-Rex or even the Stegosaurus.

At this time she also loved ghost stories and preferred to have them as her bed-time stories. Of course they were never too scary, but spooky enough for a 4.5 year old. I was surprised by her requests.

A few months later my sister told me a story about how they had been driving to their local Rec Center when Sophie (now 5) recited a poem that she had written.

I died for what I had not known
I didn't see the girl coming to squash me
I am dead
I am dead
I am dead

At first Erin didn't believe her and asked her if she learned it in school (Halloween was coming up) or heard it somewhere else. But Sophie explained that the poem was about a fly that she had squashed in the car. She also explained that when you said "I am dead" it got quieter each time. Huh? What? Since when do 5 year-olds use that type of syntax? I don't even know what to call that type of sentence structure. So you see, Sophies' creativity started early.

The following summer Sophie composed a song. Again, Erin didn't quite believe that Sophie created it on her own, but she did. I don't remember all of the lyrics but it is sung with harmony and has depth. My sister took her to a Cowboy Poetry reading where she mustered up the courage to stand in front of seasoned poets and weathered cowboys to shyly sing her song.

Going back to her most recent poems. I called Erin almost immediately after I read them and asked for the story. Once again, Erin was a little skeptical on if Sophie had really written them. Poor girl, can't catch a break. When Erin asked about the "copper witches", Sophie told her casually that she just thought it sounded good, not recognizing the symbolism (pennies) that they have and how they make her fall to her knees. As far as a "lopper"? Well, she just made that word up because she liked it. When asked what it means, she replied, "it's kind of like a loser." Erin asked if they should change it to say "loser," but Sophie thinks "lopper" sounds better. So do I.

This girl is brilliant.

I didn't post her poems...yet...because I want her to get them published and I don't know if blogging them would interfere with her chances. Any suggestions?