Just A Little Off Kilter....

What do you have planned for the weekend?

I just love cells. "That's an odd thing to love" you might be asking yourself. Why do I love cells? Because I, myself, only exist because the millions of cells in my body are busy taking care of the business that is me. Granted, some of those little cells are not putting forth their best effort and yes, cells of my ovaries and uterus...I'm talking at you. At any rate...I love those little guys. All of my friends are made of cells too - my human friends as well as Adam's off kilter cat Brick and our house plants. When I say "our" house plants what I really mean is "Adam's" house plants...they are my friends. No, I do not talk to them. I'm pretty sure everyone over the age of maybe 8 knows that living things are made of cells. I think it is taught as a mantra. "Living things are made of cells. Living things are made of cells. What are living things made of? Cells." Everyone knows this. But do people really understand this? Ther

Things looking down? don't worry, little owlie's here to fix all that! Owlie's Awesomeness by Bike Parts via Etsy

I have an admission to make or perhaps I mean a confession... I'm eat very quickly and this often ends in causing me some form of embarrassment. I believe I can trace my "quick" eating habits to my childhood. You see...I grew up with three brothers (no, it doesn't matter that one is 19 years younger than I am). If I wanted seconds I had to eat faster than my brothers. If they finished first, they had seconds and I was out of luck but if I ate faster than the boys...I enjoyed seconds and the boys were out of luck. After some thinking on how to slow my eating, I have come up with the solution for all the fast eaters out there. It isn't complicated. It's a fairly simple solution, actually. Chopsticks. Yes , you heard me. Chopsticks. I do not give a flying fat rat how good you think you are with chopsticks - you aren't good enough. Unless you grew up in a cool country where they actually use them - where forks and spoons are not the norm - where th

Breakfast for me has never been about toasting, spreading or frying anything. I’ve never been a big coffee drinker or a fan of bacon and eggs. My name is Janet, and I’m addicted to crunchy, puffy and colourful breakfast cereal. Consuming these sugary treats formed a core ritual for the average kid growing up in America during the ’80s and ’90s. Whether I was watching Muppet Babies or DuckTales while savoring my favorite milk drenched goodies, the combo of cartoons and cereal never failed to brighten my day and make the ensuing trip to school somewhat bearable. Without the cute mascots, crunchy treats and early morning sugar buzz, I daresay my development as a human being may have been stunted. The trend towards healthy eating has seen many cereals boasting of "puffs" and "treats" replaced with those gravely presenting their quotients of "whole grains" and "fiber", while whole milk apparently no longer "does a body good". Soy milk

This morning we took another step in our long arduous journey. We also discovered that Adam and I are " That Couple ". The couple that everyone at our clinic knows about but have never met. That unnamed mysterious couple. I'd like to think that Adam and I are a little like secret spies, sneaking around the clinic making our mark but slipping away before anyone sees or hears us. I wonder what our spy names would be? Good thing the internets are all knowing. I kid you not...there's a site for that. My International Spy Name is Lady Supernova. Code Name: The Pharmacist Resides in: Venice Why You're a Good Spy: You're a good lover Adam's International Spy Name is Shock Deathbird. Code Name: The Butcher Resides in: Rome Why You're a Good Spy: You are a master at disguise For the record - I think I'd make a terrible spy but a girl can dream. We met with another Dr. at our fertility clinic and instantly fell in love with her. Dr. K. was w

Last week we met with our RE to discuss my Day 3 results as well as my AFC and AMH and the steps needed to start our next IVF cycle. I'm not going to lie...I was a mess the night before. I had a pretty good idea about what he was going to say and to be honest, I didn't even really want to hear him say any of it. As I sat there in his office, staring at his tie (which was a pretty epic awesomely tie I might add) I thought about leaning over to Adam and whispering in his ear..."Adam, can you earmuff for me?". If you've seen Old School you will know what I mean. If you haven't seen Old School ...you must. Anyway... I wasn't disappointed. In a nutshell....IVF 2.1 is going to be delayed by a couple of months. Why the delay? Well my Anti-Müllerian hormone came back at 0.5. I know...pretty craptacular right! That combined with my high FSH (17.91) and low antral follicle count (4), made him suggest that it's best to start me on DHEA, which we did that day, an

Sitting in the corner at the top of the stairs are a set of three small tables. These could be referred to as ' occasional tables'. My question is this: If they’re occasional tables, what are they the rest of the time? Furthermore, if I have a set of three occasional tables, should I be using them for different occasions or should I be tremendously extravagant and use them all for one big event? I almost feel that those cute little occasional tables are not achieving their full potential; tucked away in the corner upstairs where no one can see them. Perhaps, with these furniture items being a part-time rest place for discarded items, on special occasions, they could engage in more exciting activities the rest of the time? The smallest occasional table, for example, could be a part time shelter for a homeless mongoose. The largest occasional table could be a life raft for a very small colony of dwarf rabbits ~ to be used in case they get stuck in a boat in rough weather. 

I received an email notification that someone had tagged a photo of me. I typically avoid cameras, because my face does not translate well in 2D. I have that disorder where I look okay in person, but for some reason when captured in a photograph, my appearance is altered to show 5 extra pounds and a logging route road map of wrinkles. And that’s just my face. I asked once what that disorder was called. Apparently it’s commonly referred to as “being female.” You know how some orthodox Amish believe the camera steals your soul? It’s kind of true. Except for me, it’s not so much the “soul” as “the will to live.” This explains my hesitation about clicking the “You’ve been tagged!” link. Life is all about living...right? So I lived a little and clicked the button. I've also declared that from here on out, every Friday will now be called "Funny Face Friday". Here's my Friday submission... And yes...in case you were wondering...I have been avoiding a re-cap of

I hope baby zebra is right about lions not eating unicorns... from what I know that claim does not have scientific research to back it up. Zebra Becomes A Unicorn by Sebastien Millon's Shop via Etsy

In the two hours I managed to sleep last night, I had the most upsetting nightmare. I woke up drenched with sweat and in tears and could not go back to sleep. It was all my heartache and losses rolled into one. I dreamt I went for an ultrasound and was told that it looked like my uterus was gone. Gone? As in missing, not there. No uterus to carry a baby. No hope. The u/s technician told me so casually, as if it didn’t matter. I was hysterical, running around, begging someone to give me a definitive answer, to do another ultrasound, but all they could do was say ‘we will have to wait until tomorrow to see whether it comes back or not. And then you leave the clinic or rooms, and you go outside and the world just carries on around you. People scurry on by, having conversations, laughing, doing shopping and your world has smashed into a thousand pieces. How can the world just carry on? All these horrible memories and feelings came back to me last night, but the most overwhelming feeling

Laying in bed reading (at 3 am because I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep) minding my own business, reading away...when out of the corner of my eye I saw this humongous black thing run down the wall and across the floor. Eughh! I don’t mind spiders (usually) but I do mind them being in my house and in MY room! I don’t particularly want to sleep with one! So, I got out of bed - I say got out...I more jumped upwards and then stood there looking down at this spider from my bed, and had one of those moments where you are looking at it and thinking just how creepy and scary it looks while it stares back at you. In the rational part of my brain (yes, there is a rational part hidden deep in there...somewhere) I know I'm about 100 times bigger than the average spider, but this one seemed only just half my size- it really was that big! After getting the courage to finally peer over the side of my bed, I took a closer look at it on the ground, where it preceded to run under my bed,

I live in Canada's Capital city but I have to admit that I don't often head downtown to see the sights which is a shame really because the sights are very lovely indeed... Parliament Hill   (this is looking at the back of Parliament Hill) After a much needed sleep-in some yummy french toast, Adam and I headed downtown to see the Van Gogh exhibit at the National Gallery of Canada  . All I can say is  wow.  It was amazing to be standing just a few feet away from dozens of Van Gogh originals (even if he's not your favorite). Apparently so did hundreds of others.  National Gallery of Canad a Just across the street... Notre Dame Cathedral Basilica of Ottawa The Sanctuary Just a quick walk up the street and around the corner... Rideau Canal I think I shall make a point of taking the time to explore the treasures of my city...Ottawa is pretty amazing and I'm happy to call her home.   What do you love most about your city?

A book snob that is.  I've come to notice quite a few bookish habits that aren't necessarily good ones... All the books in a series must be in the same format. I own "Matched" by Ally Condie in hard cover so I must own book two "Crossed" in hard cover. I'm weird like that. They also have to sit in order on the bookshelf. I'm a cover snob. I will sometimes overlook books if they have a terrible cover. I'm pretty certain that I am missing out on some great reads by doing this. I spend too much time looking at how far along I am in a book, and how much I have left to read. I should just enjoy the ride and quit worrying about whether or not the book is too long or too short. I buy more books, even though I have stacks of unread ones. I need to read what I have first. This is a problem! Sometimes I read too fast and don't take the time to savour a book. This happens with books I have been anticipating for a long time.  I can't take

Yesterday was a tough day. On the drive home from work I had a little cry. I pulled into the driveway got out of the car and saw this... Now matter the troubles of my day or the sadness I feel...life marches on and I just need to march right along with it. 

Disclaimer - Do not read on if you do not enjoy a good old "I-feel-so-sorry-for-myself Eeyore-type sob post" and do not read on if you want to be uplifted or feel positive and optimistic about infertility or life in general. But please do read on if you feel like crap and subscribe to the belief that misery enjoys company. Like anyone, I love a good laugh! But It dawned on me recently, that my life has had a significant LACK of laughter lately. Before I started bombarding my body with strange drugs and hormones, and experiencing constant disappointments, and losing a young and amazing family member...I was a much happier person. I was a much happier person a week ago before my Day 3 ultrasound that showed a miserable Antral Follicle count of 4 and I was much happier before yesterday's email giving me the results of my likewise miserable Day 3 blood work. Eighty eight - E2 Seventeen point nine one - FSH Six point nine six - LH You are kidding me right?

Dear My New On line Friends, Thank you so much for getting in touch with me. Although we don’t know each other that well, I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedules to email me notifying me of my inheritance. I have to say – about freakin’ time! I have been busting a gut working my arse off for too long...now I can finally tell my boss where he can shove his job...and then I will give him a wedgie ‘cause I have always wanted to do that. But I digress…Wow!...$50 million dollars! I have no idea where to begin on spending my new found wealth…by the way money will not change me. I will not go crazy and buy a house made purely out of gold or pay a scientist to discover a potion for invisibility and then to drink that potion to stand secretly behind strangers and whisper strange things in their ears. Now all you need to do is rush that money right into my account. Sincerely, Janet

How was your weekend?

Today is my birthday. I’m 37. Wow, 37 sounds sort of old, but then again, if my 37th year is the one in which I'm living a wonderful life, how can I not love that?  I love birthdays because it’s like my own personal New Year’s day. I like to look ahead at the upcoming year and make some plans for how I want to live this year like no other before it. It’s a fun time to reflect on all of the blessings I have in my life...and I do live a blessed life.  Happy Birthday to me!

Sending all of you lovely ladies that offered me such wonderful thoughts and support on my "One Plus Three" post...a giant heartfelt...Thank You! Mr & Mrs Make Me Pearl Shimmer Thank You Cards by Little Spark Creations via Etsy 

Getting dressed in the morning doesn’t require a college degree (good thing cause I don't have one of those)...but somehow this morning my underpants confused me. I take it for granted that when I grab those undergarments from my drawer that they are the right side out and that I am not already wearing a pair (granted, I was wearing a thong but that's no excuse). Then they are on – the rest of my clothes get themselves on. I feel like I have the world at my feet – my underpants are on nothing else matters…bring that bus on my friend, cause I have clean underpants on! Then.... There I am half way through the day (insert suspense music here) when I go to the wash room and I look down...and in an instant my whole world is changed. Not only are my underpants inside out but I somehow managed to not notice that at some point before getting dressed and pulling on my, what I thought were singular underpants, I had already covered my lady parts with a thong. How could I get

My thoughts.... August 3 - In two days I turn 37. I was excited about my birthday, especially since it was going to fall on a Friday and we had a weekend at Bon Echo planned. Was. ..is the most important word of that sentence.  We have healed and are ready to start IVF 2.0 Today is Cycle Day 3 - This morning I had my Day 3 blood work drawn as well as AMA (did you also have to pay for this?) as well as my baseline ultrasound to measure my antral follicle count. All this in preparation for starting our cycle late this month. Four - This is my abysmal antral follicle count. Four. One on the left, three on the right.  4 - You are no longer my favourite number. Two - The number of people that no longer find what I say to be interesting, witty or worthy enough of tuning in. I get it.  14.4 - This was my FSH on my last round of day 3 blood work. Old - I didn't feel this way this morning. This morning I felt young.  Laughable - Feeling young this morning. "You may feel youn