Bionic Mamas

you're not losing a vagina, you're gaining a son


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Thinking of England

Inspired by Twangy Pearl, Sugar presents an artist’s rendition of last Tuesday’s inspermination:


Note, please:

– Funny Socks
– Good Luck Thumb Ring on left hand
– Comfort Items Worthy Of A First-Rate Nerd: a hardback, high-ish brow, dystopian novel (quite excellent, by the way — and while it is grim, I was at least reading the chapter titled “Pollination,” which seemed apt), cell phone, and trusty journal. With pen. You never know.

Your wonderful well-wishings were folded up and tucked in the book. I got them out at the word “tenaculum.”

But wait, you say. Didn’t you need those buoying comments precisely because Sugar wasn’t able to accompany you? How does she know what it looked like?

Well, because on this snowy evening, I have just now been re-enacting the scene on our living room couch*. Yes, I put the socks back on and everything. The Society for Creative Anachronism‘s got nothin’ on us.

Next time someone asks what exactly it is lesbians do, perhaps I will tell them about this.

Happy Snow Day, everybody. Check out what the other kids are up to on Mel’s Show and Tell.

*NB: our couch does not have stirrups. Fear not. Also, full disclosure: I was really wearing a zip-up cardigan, like the nerd professor I am.


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You Know What’s Awesome?

Valium. Valium is awesome.

If I were in the market for a new addiction, I’d strongly consider this one. Although bear in mind that I am still pretty loopy.

You know what’s better than valium?

You all. Thanks for all the kind messages today. When I heard the word “tenaculum,” I unfolded them and read them again. (And tried to name every part of England that I could. I’m pretty good with geography, but not when high, apparently. Kept getting caught in a Devon-Dover-“They’ll be bluebirds over the white cliffs” loop.)

More later, when I am sobered up. Typing like this is way too hard.

P.S. The socks, for the curious and the SITM faithful, are from Little Miss Mismatched (which means there’s a third one, too, in red and yellow). The nurse liked them, too.


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Back In The Saddle

Or the stirrups, at any rate.

Greetings from the [state college where I teach] campus library, where I spend my non-teaching time this semester, since I don’t have an office. Today I’m at a large, shared table in the very open art history section, staring at the double-lined OPK I’m holding under the table, where I can pretend that the students can’t see it. (They can, of course, just as I can see them pass notes in class.) Lord knows what they think, but who cares?! I am FINALLY OVULATING! W00t!

A little background: after taking November and December off from TTC — November because I o’d the weekend we got married; December because of travel (and because I wanted to be drinking, not weeping over my period, while visiting my in-laws) — I expected to ovulate about two weeks ago. Which was right when I found out that I might lose my health insurance. And just like in October, when my revving-to-go body encountered a big wallop of stress, everything came to a screeching halt. (Except the soreness at my left ovary that I get every month around ovulation. That has obligingly kept on going.) Following some major hustle on my part and some help from others, I did NOT lose my health insurance, but even though I’ve been peeing on sticks like it’s going out of style, checking my TP like I’m expecting the Virgin Mary’s face to turn up there, and urging my pituitary on, nothin’. So, I say again, W00t!

I’m going in for a valium-assisted IUI tomorrow, so wish me luck, please. Sadly, Sugar can’t cancel her afternoon meetings, so I’ll be riding solo. I’m sad about that, but it’s evidently a difficult thing to schedule around, my ovulation. I’d be happy to think some of you were keeping me company, however virtually.

Heigh-ho, Spermies, Away!


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On The First Day of Waiting

…I’ll tell you a little bit about yesterday.

In the morning, we were still at the beach. I’d planned to be in the TWW while we were there, but my body had other ideas. We’ll talk about just how damn many sticks I’ve peed on this month another time. At any rate, there seems to be something to this whole “stress can delay ovulation” theory.

The good news about all that was: no limits on hot tubbing or drinking red wine. And indeed, no limits were observed. It was beautiful and peaceful and — here’s the key, I think — relaxing. …The next thing I know, I’ve got EWCM out the yingyang, and a true, indisputable positive on my OPK. Since we were planning to leave the next day anyway, we took the early-squirrelly ferry and headed to the ol’ Baby Factory.

Once there, I took off my pants and signed a lot of paperwork (including saying I am an unmarried woman — but that’s another post for another day). I had already talked to one of the IUI nurses about the peculiarities of my anatomy, why I thought the left side was the way to go, etc., but the other nurse was on duty. She sat down between my legs, syringe aloft, and I thought to say, “by the way, I know you’ve probably read my chart, but just in case….”

Her eyebrows rose just slightly. Here is a woman who knows better than to alarm a patient.

“Oh, just a minute, then. I’m going to get someone who will be very interested.”

Great, I thought, another med student. Or that poor Zebra Fish guy again.

Instead, she brought the big guns: a doctor. And then the fun began. It was not on the order of the “fun” we all had at my HSG, but it was more like that than I had hoped. A tenaculum was involved. Ultimately, so was an abdominal ultrasound. (Given how pricey that pink (!) goo was — and this was two vials-worth, as the clinic thought the counts were low — I was glad enough that the doctor wanted to be sure she was in before pulling the trigger, as it were.) I tried to think relaxing thoughts, as Stephanie Brill has put the fear of God in me about the contraceptive properties of prostaglandins, but my cervix evidently has both ridges and bends, and that damn tenaculum did hurt.

But! The doctor says that if this one doesn’t take, I should come early next time and they’ll slip me some valium. So there’s that.

Neither the doctor nor the nurse were overly excitable, which I think is good for us in re: not getting too worked up about any particular cycle. We’re trying to think of this one as “getting started”, which didn’t stop me from waking up in the middle of the night a little freaked at what we just did. (Man juice. In my hoo-ha. Yowzers.)