Damaged Goods...

So, it's been awhile. I'm really a slacker blogger, aren't I? I can't help it though, just when things seem to settle down.... things start to go south again.

My *amazingly* calm and collected OBGYN has started me on Prometrium to try and regulate my periods. I take this lovely medication the first ten days of the month, then I should get a "normal" period. I'm supposed to do this for three months, and then she will start me on Clomid to get me to ovulate. After the Clomid, in a perfect world, I will get pregnant with my perfect baby. Of course, before the perfect baby I have to put up with horrific cramps and obscene amounts of bleeding both wonderful side effects of the Prometrium.

I wasn't trying to be sarcastic when I called my OBGYN calm... she really is. Which is a good thing, especially when she has a patient like me who likes to show up to my appointments (or call her office) in near hysterics over my assumptions that I am dying, hopelessly infertile, or anything else. She always manages to calm me down and talk me off the proverbial ledge.

I have to say, my darling husband  has been nothing but patient and wonderful in this. I know he is just as frustrated by this whole situation as I am... if not more because there is literally nothing he can do, and if my darling husband is anything, he is a man of action. And trust me, with all the spotting and bleeding... he is not seeing much action. He does a wonderful job of assuring me that I am not "damaged goods" and that my body isn't turning traitor on me... I just need some time. Lord knows I hope he's right. I just need time. Time and hormones.


***UPDATE***

I had a normal period!!! It had been so long that it took me by surprise... but for once in what seems like an eternity my body did exactly what it was supposed to do. I hope that this continues into the following months. My OBGYN has decided to start me on the Clomid next month. I'm excited and terrified all at once...

The dreaded "Man Cold" and other Maladies....

On Friday night, my darling husband did not sleep a wink. The poor guy then had to drag himself out of bed at 4AM to shuffle off to work for the next 12+ hours. When I talked to him mid-way through his shift I knew he was going to need some major petting and pampering when he got home... there were rude doctors, crazy patients, and even crazier families he was dealing with and all with zilch sleep.

When he got home there was a nice, home cooked meal (porkchops, my husband loves porkchops), some "sleepytime" tea, and a nice foot rub. I am pleased to report, all of this helped and he slept like a baby on Saturday night and awoke refreshed and ready for another day at what he lovingly calls "the evil tower" (aka, the hospital we both work at).

This is what it looks like when I spoil and pamper the DH...

I got to thinking though... why is it that men turn into such helpless, sad creatures whenever they are sick or otherwise sidelined by illness or injury? It's not just my darling husband who acts as if though his man cold is in fact swine flu/pneumonia/tuberculosis all rolled into one, it's all men, and the older they get the worse they act when they're sick. The last time my DH had a man cold he didn't move off the couch for two days except to go wallow in his misery in bed and towards the end, I think he was writing out his last will and testament to prepare what he was sure was going to be his "untimely death". Let me tell you, readers, the only reason for an "untimely death" was going to be because I smothered him with a couch cushion.

It's just the sniffles!

I guess it's our own fault ladies, we tend to be nurturing and maternal and maybe we over do it with the men we love and so they act this way. The flip side is this: whenever I've been sick I've never been pampered and babied nearly half as much as when my other half is ill. Oh, he worries... and maybe he'll throw some cough medicine my way but there's no lovingly made tea, no blankets, no chicken noodle soup! Which is fine actually because apparently, a girl's version of the cold is much less deadly than that of a man.

In the end though, I'll continue to pamper my DH through all his "man colds" and sleepless nights... because truthfully (and I'll never admit this to him), I enjoy babying him.

Spoiled, spoiled husband...

Right after I got engaged my mom and my two grandmothers cornered me and performed what I can only describe as an intervention on me. No, I am not an addict of any kind (shopping addictions notwithstanding)... this intervention was more of a "we want you to buckle down and become a fabulous housewife" type of intervention. You see, dear reader, before I got engaged or married I could not cook to save my life. Both my grandmothers were horrified at the prospect of me being married and not being able to so much as boil water for my poor, unsuspecting husband-to-be or iron a pair of his pants.

My darling grandmothers are both fabulous wives, housekeepers, cooks, mothers, etc., etc.... I was not about to tarnish family tradition by being the first female in my family that would not be able to pamper and pet my future husband in the manner which was expected of me.

I used to love to torture my grandmothers (and my own mother) by saying things like, "I'll make him TV dinners" or "he likes to cook, let him cook for me". And I believed it, as an independent woman of this new enlightened age I never bought into stereotypes of the happy housewife fawning over a husband, cooking and baking, cleaning the house and all that other stuff.

Until the day I woke up and realized I'd been doing all those things, and enjoying myself.

*gasp*

My husband has joined the fold of men in my family that are so well taken care of that if their wives ever went on strike or vanished they would be left to shuffle around aimlessly not knowning how to fend for themselves in the slightest. I cook gourmet meals for my darling husband, I make sure that our home is spotless and beautiful, I make sure he's spotless and beautiful, I pamper and pet him.... in short, he's my spoiled, spoiled husband. I love it, and I know he loves it.

As much as I rebelled against becoming "one of those" women that took on the traditional role of housekeeper and cook and all the other "Suzie Homemaker" duties, I found myself slipping right into that mindset without any difficulty. I found that not only am I good at those duties I turned my nose up at, but I actually enjoy those duties.

And I've come to realize why some women relish their roles as a wife who takes care of their husband so well.... because when you treat a man that good, he'd be an utter fool to leave. =)

And the Beat Goes On....

It's funny how all I can generally think about is getting pregnant... and the minute I stopped thinking about it, it happened.... and then it was gone. I found out I was (had been) pregnant on the same day that I found out I was miscarrying. That is definitely going to be a day that will live in infamy in my life. I knew something was wrong (one does not bleed and hurt like that without something being wrong), but denial is a wonderful thing so I ignored my body for a couple of days before finally dragging myself into my OB's office to make sure I wasn't dying.

I can write lightly about this dear readers (if there are any dear readers) because I am still in shock... and probably some denial. It seems surreal to me to think that I was actually growing a little human inside of me, and now that little human is gone. I guess we weren't meant to meet.

My husband darling has been treating me as though I were made of glass, or some other delicate thing. I don't feel delicate. I don't feel anything (which worries him, I'm sure), except twisted relief at knowing that I am capable of getting pregnant. Now a whole new set of questions try to infiltrate my brain (can I stay pregnant?), but I try not to go there.

So life goes on. It's just me and the darling husband... but now we have a cat-baby (my consolation cat, I secretly call him), Butters. It's us three, and hopefully, a fourth will join us soon. I am positive that I will have my baby, and that baby will be wonderful and healthy and a perfect blend of the darling husband and I.... and for the first time since my baby pangs started, I am simply content to patiently wait for that baby.