(Lots of nursery talk in this one)

Shelby and I are great procrastinators, we really are, but when it came time to start getting things ready for baby, I’m all over it.

We’re nearing 25 weeks, but I’ve already started getting rooms in the house ready. Why the rush? Well, besides waiting FIVE FRICKING YEARS for this opportunity, it really is part excitement, part a little manipulation of the universe. Sure, I still worry about our little guy each and every day, but I’ve accepted and embraced the fact that *this* is going to happen.

It really is.

We’re so close to viability without major health problems. I can smell it. After getting our carpets cleaned, our office converted into office/guest bed room, I decided to take on a venture that I never thought I’d do; Paint a nursery. As Shelby drives away, leaving to have lunch with a few of her friends, I find myself stirring a can of baby blue paint. Two major things are happening here; I’m actually painting (something I hate to do and suck at) and I’m about to, dare I say it again, paint OUR nursery.

As I pour the No-VOC, light blue paint into the roller bucket, I find myself staring at the liquid and becoming awestruck that this event is here. If one was to catch me at this time, you might even see a tear in my eye. I never thought I’d be happy to paint. I used this time to blast music, put blue on the walls, and take count of things. Over this experience and the past few weeks, I learned a few new things about myself as a father to be;

Why I’m going to be a bad father?

1. I sung along to songs promoting drugs, sex, and rock and roll while painting a nursery.
2. The words; son of a bitch, fuck, god dammit, and shit came out of my mouth more times that I can remember while edging.
3. I threw a (dry) paint brush at my cat for almost getting paint all over the place.
4. I wanted to give up edging after the first 30 minutes.
5. Painting makes me want to drink, heavily.

Why I’m going to be a good father?

1. I painted a nursery while Shelby was out and wanted to surprise her when she got home.
2. I missed the cat with the paint brush.
3. I kept the vision of a complete nursery in my minds eye which served as excellent motivation.
4. I horrible at slowing down, taking my time and being careful, but wanted the nursery to come out perfect and worked very hard at making it so.
5. Seeing Shelby’s smile after she got home made it ALLLL worth it..

How I know I’m going to be a the BEST FATHER IN THE ENTIRE WORLD?

1. If you tell anyone, I’ll deny this: On Monday, I traded my DREAM CAR in for a mini-van and did so with a smile on my face.

(Lots of baby and pregnancy talk in this one)

Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve updated. I know all two of you have been on pins and needles, so this is the day you’ve been waiting for!

Prior to our unscheduled visit to Labor and Delivery at 23 weeks, we were in Portland visiting my cousin, his wife, and their 8 month old baby (Baby L). I have to say, time, situations and perspective is a interesting beast.

My cousin and his family are wonderful, thoughtful, beautiful people who I look forward to spending time with, but in 2008 I simply couldn’t. When they announced a surprise pregnancy prior to moving to Portland, it was like a knife in my chest. You’ve read about that feeling on every IF blog, so I don’t need to repeat it. You get the idea. They moved to Portland shortly after that, and I was glad to not be involved in bump watch.

Their baby was born in Sept. of 2008 and, to me, represented the pain, loss, and un-rewarded efforts in our struggle with infertility.  They came to visit family for Christmas/New Years that year. Shelby should have been due any day, and we should have been beaming to see them and their adorable baby. To make a long story short, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to see them. It was too hard. I felt awful about making a lame excuse and not going to see family visiting from another state, but I knew that we needed to protect ourselves.

Now, present day, I find myself sitting on an airplane that is taking us to see my cousin for the first time in over a year. Those feelings of last year are a memory now and have been replaced with pure excitement of seeing his new baby. I have a special relationship with my cousin, he’s the only person (besides Shelby, of course) that I feel comfortable, and open enough to stay up until 4 AM drinking scotch and talking about anything and everything (ok, the scotch helps). Our conversations range from light heart-ed and jovial to some heavy, deep shit. I tend to shy away from these conversations with most other people, because frankly, I don’t give a crap about what they have to say. They either have no life experience, come from a perspective I do not support, or simply just want to talk at me. My cousin on the other hand, will listen, absorb, and understand.

I’m excited to see him and his family for many reasons and one reason is very new to me. I’m excited to see their baby. What the hell? I’m excited to a baby?! This is a weird feeling to say the least. With our baby due in November, I actually find myself looking forward to getting a crash course in baby. It’s a funny place to be… Shelby and I have spent countless dollars and effort to have a baby, and I’ve really NEVER been around one. I have ZERO experience with one.

I’m also excited to see him and have a single, very important conversation. I want to share our battle with infertility with them. This is one of the few couples that Shelby and I feel comfortable enough to bring them into the loop. As soon as we arrived, the baby talk commenced. The more we talked about baby stuff, the need to share our story grew. I simply couldn’t have the baby conversations without having them know where ours came from. Hours after landing, I find myself telling our story, sharing pictures of our two transferred blasts, and sipping a iced white mocha at Starbucks. While pausing at the end of our story, after explaining how hard it would have been to see them during the holidays, I brace myself for their reaction. This is one of the first times we  explained our struggle, and I prepared myself for the response. As we all know, they can range from ignorant, to rude, to invalidation.

Their response? Complete sympathy and respect for our battle. While they couldn’t understand everything we went through, they sympathized with how hard it must have been on us. They were amazed at how hard we tried, and how strong we are though the battle. They were in awe of the procedures, pictures, and efforts.

It was exactly the response I would have wanted, dare I dreamed of one. Sure, the “fertile” baby talk and advice flowed, but at least they knew our story. They knew the story of our baby growing in Shelby’s belly and that was what mattered to me. Over the course of our visit, and many glasses of scotch, my cousin and I talked about our battle and how hard it has been. It was a weight off my shoulders to talk about this freely.

Only after those conversations were out of the way did I completely open myself up to their baby. This was the first time around her, and I completely let her past all of my built up and hardened baby-defenses. I saw a small hint of what my love will be like for my own baby and it floored me. I didn’t know it was possible to get any more excited about November, but I am. I was worried that I’d have no idea what to do or act around a baby, but my fears were laid to rest. My time with their baby was wonderful. I even managed to postpone a full on baby meltdown by just doing what felt natural.

The trip was worth the visit, in every way. I learned one, important thing about myself that help calm my fears of our own baby.

I will be a good father.

I’m a fan of celebrating little milestones of, of sorts. I love these little celebrations that range from Shelby hugging the porcelain god with her first real bout of morning sickness, to our little guy, who is 1/2 way done with the best hotel stay of his life (Hey, it even has 24/hour room service!), to Shelby’s baby bump, and to last week, where I received my first annoying pregnancy comment.

I bet you can guess the question… I rank it up there with the ignorant, “natural twins, or [voice quiets] fertility twins?” when someone finds out you are having twins. Yes, you guessed it, I got the “was it planned?”

Really, what kind of question is that? In the millisecond after it was asked, a few things occurred to me when that question is asked. I take it two ways 1.) I’m a responsible parent by planning the creation of a human being, or 2.) I’m a drunkard who didn’t want to use a condom, it broke, or we’re just TOO fertile. Ha, TOO fertile, imagine that. Sure, there are exceptions to that, but really, you’re asking me a pretty damn personal question. I mean, think about it, that’s pretty intimate. They are really asking what my (and Shelby’s) mental state was as at the time Shelby and I did the horizontal tango. What’s your next question? What position got Shelby pregnant? Ahh, the questions of the fertile.

Well, in our case, there was a lot of FUTILE horizontal tango going on. Fun? Sure. Productive? Not so much.  Actually, I believe the position we were in was begging on our hands and knees, praying for our IVF to work.

I know it’s an innocent question, but how should it be answered? I carefully considered my question and responded to “was it planned” with the answer of “Yes, very much so” and left it at that. I know I could have answered with a simple yes, but at that moment, it seems to cheapen how much we’ve gone through. Hell yes it was planned. And we have 5 years of a monthly payment to continue to remind us of that fact.

To answer any other way would seem to dishonor my little bean that is budding. We worked hard to get to this 21 week mark. We worked hard just for the chance of getting here, and I simply cannot turn my back on that effort.

I’m proud that we have an IVF baby. Simply put, I’m proud of us. We have gone through the hardest 5 years of our lives, and we’re coming out happier, more in love, and closer than ever. Even, in some way odd way, I’m grateful that we’ve worked so hard to get here. It’s made me a better  lover, husband, and soon-to-be, father. So when people ask “was it planned?” the answer should be “Planned enough that it took 5 years, a hundred appointments, heart break, tears and $60,000. Our baby, that we fought so hard for was indeed, very much planned.”

Until I feel comfortable enough to say that, I will for now remain, half way in the closet and simply answer, “Was this baby planned?” with “Yes, very much so.“

*This is about my wife’s, Shelby, pregnancy after infertility*

Wow, it’s ICLW already? Where is the time going? Thank you for visiting my little corner of the web.

I can’t believe our Level II ultrasound is here already. The first few months of this pregnancy went super slow, but now it seems as if time is speeding up. Shelby is already rounding the half way point. As I mentioned in my post, The Secret Pregnancy Handshake, I still feel awkward at times when people talk about our pregnancy. It’s out in the public, Shelby is showing more and more every day, so it’s hard to deny. However, there is a part of me that still feels like our struggle with infertility is now invalid. Maybe invalid is too strong of a term, but part of me still needs to pay recognition to our struggle. I feel very out of place when other pregnant woman are blissfully talking about what crib or stroller they are going to buy. Sure, I can compare notes, but all our concentration is about having a healthy baby boy. The crap we buy is so insignificant compared to that.

However, somewhat reluctantly, it’s time to really admit to ourselves that this baby is going to happen. It’s time to shop. I know it sounds a little hypocritical given my last paragraph, but I’m really looking forward to picking the baby gear out. Slowly, I’m feeling like less of a fraud and more like a real dad to be. It’s a hard line for me right now and I don’t know how to really act as a expecting infertile. I don’t feel like I’m in either sides “club.” I just don’t have that same click that fertiles do. Our path is different, even though we have a pregnancy in common. It’s an adjustment, and there aren’t really any books about this one.

On to the good stuff however. Our scan was amazing. We haven’t seen our little guy in a month, and this transformation was huge. It really looks like a baby now, perfectly formed. He is weighing 12 ounces now. We saw fingers, toes, hear chambers, feet, bones, and baby boy bits. Our little guy seems stubborn and moves right at the wrong time. He gets that from his mom Speaking of which, Shelby seems to be doing great. She has energy back, and is getting a beautiful, perfect pregnant profile. She looks amazing.

I do have one question though. While our scan went great, and nothing was a concern, our doctor mentioned that her placenta was a little too close to the cervix. Not close enough to be considered “abnormal,” but close enough to warrant a follow up appointment at 27 weeks. Dr. Google, who I have a love and hate relationship with, tells me that it increased the chance of a c-section (which we already are facing, Shelby has a narrow pelvis) and you need to keep an eye on any bleeding (duh!). I also read that in more server cases that pelvic rest is required (which we were not put on). The doctor did not seem concerned at all, as the  placenta tends to gravitate up as you get father along, but I’m curious if anyone has had any experience with this and can offer any input.

Finally, we got a few awesome shots. I’d like to share my favorite one with you (the cute shot of a button nose was my 2nd favorite.

I like to call this shot, “Two Tickets to the Gun Show”

I think it’s due time for keyword salad. Well that, and I really have nothing else to say.

Our full anatomy scan is on Monday. We will be 19 weeks, and 2 days. I’m very excited and anxious for this appointment, as it’s our last checkpoint before we decide to start buying things. So far, we’ve only purchased 2 small trinkets, that were a pure impulse buy. Nothing that can’t be boxed up and ignored forever should the unfortunate happen, but after this SUCCESSFUL (look how good I am at the positive thinking here!) scan, the gloves come off.

To be honest, I must say, that I’m actually nervous to start shopping. It’s going to make it feel even more real, and that scares me. Shelby and I are in this awkward holding pattern. We’re anxious about our full anatomy scan, but at the same time Shelby *thinks* she may have felt movement (a wiggle, worm, or flutter) but it’s been very faint. She’s suspicious, and wants to chalk it up to gas, mostly because it’s simply too good to be true. Then she won’t feel anything for a day which ups the anxiety level. Sure, every website tells you that early movement is subtle, and infrequent, but still… Damn, can’t it be November already?!

Anyway, enough rambling, onto Google provided humor;

can you tell you’re pregnancy day of IUI

You’re wondering if you’re “pregnancy” the day OF your IUI? Well, Mrs (Mr.) impatient, I do believe in PUPO, but man, I hope your first IUI works, becuase it’s a LOT of waiting. Now, if you’re wanting to know if you’re pregnant the day OF your IUI, Google’s good, but “tell the future good,” I think not?

+1 to using the little known apostrophe in you’re
-1 to for “you’re pregnancy”

naked shelby, i love shelby, shelby butt

Ohh, I think Shelby has a stalker! Now, “naked shelbys,” you’ll have to send me proof. Shelby’s like a cat when the camera comes out. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast to avoid a snapshot.Shelby butt? Good luck seeing that because it’s usually firmly planted in front of The Sims 3, in bed, or watching Deadliest Catch with me.

fear of lab coats

Can I get an AMEN? I hate handing a “sample” to them. There they are, looking all smug in their perfectly white lab coat, staring at the dude who just pleasured himself. I see you and your mocking eyes! I swear, my brow is always this sweaty. I wonder if they make fun of the samples? “Ohh, this one seems a little lighter than the last one…”

intrauterine insemination a woman’s perspective

Hmm, I think I can sum this up in a few words;

Oh god please work, please work, ow, ow, ouch!, please work, I hope they didn’t mix up the baby batter, please work, OW watch it doc, please work, please please please.

Booooooooob dirtyoldgrandma

Yes, Johnny, if you’re grandma has a Booooooooob then she is, in fact, dirty. One big, uniboob full of old saggy dirty skin. eww.

I can imagine the person searching for booooooooob. I bet it was a 14 year old boy, with a computer and internet connection alone for the first time. He was SO excited to search for boob that he just got carried away with the “o” key.