I’ve been writing this one for a few days, so excuse the tardiness in posting. This should have been published earlier in the week, but it’s an important topic, and I wanted to give it the time it deserved. And honestly, drawing out the conversation a little doesn’t hurt a damn thing in this case.

Last week a 22 year old man named Elliot Rodger killed 6 people. He left behind videos and a very long manifesto explaining his reasoning. He tried to rationalize why he felt it was okay to kill these people. Do you know the reason? By now you probably do, but just in case you don’t, here it is:

He was a virgin. No woman would sleep with him. And he deserved to be pleasured. All men deserve it, ladies, but especially him. He was an attractive, well read, eurasian male from a good family. He deserved our bodies.

So, when he didn’t get what he desired, he decided to punish all of us. Of course, he couldn’t kill every woman in the entire world you know, but he was going to get as many as he could. And if he had it his way we’d all be starved to death. If you haven’t read his manifesto (I read a good portion of it) and you think you can handle it go ahead. It’s out there for the world to see.

Here’s the thing.

Every day when I leave work I get my keys in my hand before I leave my office. I go out through a door that’s in an alley. The first thing I do is check to see whether or not anyone else is in the alley. If there is and it’s a man, I keep my head slightly turned in his direction to watch him. If he starts running toward me, I will start running and screaming. I will get to the front of my building where the security kiosk is and get help. If I am alone in the alley, I will still grip my keys like a weapon and check behind me every few steps until I get to the door that has a prox card reader that lets me into my parking area. I always pull that door shut behind me. Even though no one is supposed to get in there without a prox card, I don’t relax until I’m in my car and have locked the doors, which I do every time immediately before I turn on the car. I check my backseat. I make sure I am safe.

Does that sound familiar? Here’s the next thing.

My house has a courtyard you have to walk through before you get to the front door. It’s a lovely, walled in space that anyone can get into. There is a garden gate into it-not a lock and key. It is the perfect place for someone to hide if they wanted to attack me on my way to my front door. Every day when I get home, I look into the courtyard, and if it’s dark I use a flashlight on my phone to check around, and make sure no one is there. I then quickly walk to my front door and get inside. I lock it, both on the knob and the deadbolt. And now we have a security system, and I set that once I’m inside as well. I make sure I am safe.

Still with me? Here’s another thing.

If I order pizza and I’m home alone, my big black labrador comes to the door with me. Even though I’d rather strip down to pajama shorts and a tank top, I always make sure I’m still fully dressed when the pizza man comes. I make sure I am safe.

I make sure I am safe. Safe from men.

Not all men, but men.

Why do I have to do this? I do it not even subconsciously. I am VERY aware of protecting myself at all times. It’s not a habit, it’s a conscious choice.

Right before Chief and I started dating, an old male friend of mine came to visit me. At the time I was living alone, and he had stayed with me before. We had had an on again off again thing for a while. It was long distance-it didn’t work out. But we stayed good friends. That last visit he apparently thought that not only were we going to get back together (even though I had told him that I was about to start seeing Chief), but that we would sleep together, just because we had slept together before.

I rebuffed him. Told him no. Led his wandering hands elsewhere, and made it VERY CLEAR that I was only interested in us being friends. We had been best friends. I didn’t want to lose that. And if it had ended there we would still be friends. If he had listened to me say no the first time it would have been fine.

But he didn’t. The entire weekend I was fending him off. Pushing him off of me. Taking his hands out of my shirt. I’m sure he thought it was hot, but it wasn’t. It was uncomfortable and it got to the point of being scary. So scary that I turned our plan that evening of just having dinner together into having dinner with some friends of mine, one who was a good man and could see what was going on. He didn’t want to let me go back to my apartment with him. I told him I would be fine and that I could handle it, but I would call him if I couldn’t.

And my visitor persisted with his attempts. And it actually got to the point that I basically gave in and stopped fighting. I was ready to just let it happen and be done with it. And when I stopped fighting he said “Wait, what are you doing? And I said, “You’re stronger than me. I’m not going to win this. I’m giving up.”

And that’s when he stopped. That’s when he realized what a monster he was being. When he left the next day he said “Can you not tell your friends what happened?” And I said “Yeah, sure” just to get him away from me. But I told them. And I’m telling you. He was my best friend. I’d known him for years at that point. I never would have believed him capable of that. That was the last day I spoke to him. And that was the first day that I really started to doubt men in general. That I became skeptical about them. That I wondered who I could really trust. Who would hurt me and who wouldn’t. Who would go the extra mile and be willing to protect me if need be.

And that’s why I married Chief, because he is that man. The first time he kissed me he wouldn’t actually touch me, more than putting his hands on my arms. And it stayed that way until I was ready to take it further. He never pushed-EVER. Still doesn’t. There is never any pressure, even a little bit.

It is not all men. Clearly. But it is men. And something has to change.

And yes, it is all women.


Some Reality

So today I was just toodling a long with my life and realized that I’m heading into my first bigtime mondo medicated, procedural cycle. This in and of itself isn’t really throwing me. I’m sure it will eventually, but not yet.

What sort of smacked me in the face, is that it’s SRC (Summer Reading Club) time here at the library. None of you fellow public librarians out there needed me to explain that acronym. It’s the madness that comes every year when school gets out, and we do it up big here. It’s the one time a year when children’s librarians know better than to ask for a vacation. We go in August and September-it’s all hands on deck here from post Memorial Day through the end of July.

And I’m about to head into a phase of my treatment where I can basically give you one, maybe two days notice of when I need some time off, if I’m lucky. I have no idea when CD 1 will hit. I’m hopeful the prometrium will do it’s thing and I’ll bleed early next week (last prometrium on Sunday), but I also know myself, and I know that sometimes prometrium doesn’t work for me re: inducing periods. It could be weeks. It could be days. I really don’t know. My ovaries are super achy, and considering I didn’t ovulate that’s a big fat “CYST ALERT” in my mind.

What I’m getting at here is that I already feel like a big old jerk for what is inevitably going to happen, which is that I’m going to need time off at the last minute, and most likely at some point it’s going to be inconvenient. I sent the Captain an email explaining all of this and I know she’s cool. She want’s to meet Baby Librief (combining Librarian and Chief-I think it works!) too, but she’s also got a library to run, and allegedly I’m supposed to help her do it.

Progesterone Puh-leaze.


Progesterone. That’s been happening. I’ve gotten pretty good at the suppositories. I guess. I basically just stick it up as far as I can and hope for the best.

The other thing is that I’ve been taking one orally every night. No, I didn’t ask permission to do this and I don’t recommend going off book with medicines, but I was so worried I wasn’t doing the suppository correctly and I had some oral progesterone left over, so I just went with it. I’m five days down, five days to go.

The thing that I feel pretty good about, is that when I ovulate on my own I think I have a pretty strong progesterone reaction. Last cycle when I actually did ovulate my breasts hurt SO. BAD. I thought it was the 200 mg progesterone I was taking last cycle, but right now I’m basically doing 400 mg progesterone and my breasts feel fine. Maybe the teeniest bit sensitive, but not really. So yeah, it’s a relief to know that something in my body works right. I’ve never actually had a progesterone check when I’ve ovulated, so I don’t know how high it is, but I think it must be at least normal.

Mainly, I’m just ready to get this IUI show on the road. I’m feeling really positive about it right now and I want that feeling to stick, big time. Five more days of progesterone and then hopefully CD 1 will appear quickly. I’m wary, because in the past when I’ve done progesterone without ovulating it’s still taken me months to get my period, but I’m trying to hope for the best. I’m working with the big guns now, so hopefully my RE will have a solution if I don’t get my period in a reasonable amount of time. I feel like that solution might be shots in my ass, but whatevs. I can deal.

Hope everyone had a great weekend!

So my morning was disgusting, how was yours?

Disgusting is probably a strong word. But yeah, progesterone suppositories are gross.

So I, ahem, shoved that puppy up around midnight last night and got into bed. I noticed that I didn’t actually feel it, so I thought that was a good sign. Sometime before my alarm went off at 6:00 I woke up feeling like I had started my period, and remembered my good ole friend prometrium, so I just went back to sleep. I had some ickiness this morning and it has continued. Did I do it wrong? Is it normal to have this much, eh, seepage as late as 9:30 in the morning? It’s not like, heavy or anything, but I can feel it. Oh can I feel it.

Yuck. Nine days left. I can’t imagine having to do this for weeks and weeks.

So last night I sort of exploded on Chief.

Between the car thing, and the not ovulating thing (which I didn’t think had bothered me that much, but apparently it did), and on top of that, him not calling me to ask about how the morning at bad clinic or my blood test was, I came home in a mood.

And just to be honest, if there is one thing my husband sucks at, it’s dealing with me when I’m mad. He basically just sits there and waits for me to explode. I think that he thinks “maybe she’ll get over it on her own, and I won’t have to talk about it, because I suck at that”, but by him not talking about it, I just get really, really pissed off. So yeah, I basically accused him of not being as “in this” as I am and then I said “sometimes I feel like you just don’t care” (which I know is a low blow, but it was the heat of the moment. Here’s how the dialogue went:

“Sometimes I feel like you just don’t care”
“I don’t care?”
“Yeah, clearly you don’t”
“I don’t care? Really Librarian? I don’t care so much that I had to switch back to night shift for a day to go to your appointment yesterday with you?!”

And here is where I got really, really upset and started scream/crying at him:


And the oscar for over-dramatic infertile woman in a leading role goes to…..

But yeah, it was this raw thing that apparently was just simmering under the surface, and I let that mother out. I basically cold-shouldered him for the rest of the night until he finally gave up and went to bed. Then I watched some Gilmore Girls, ate some cereal (because, oh yeah, it was 10:30 and I hadn’t eaten, which perhaps contributed to my crankyness a little), and softened. I woke him to basically say that I was sorry, I didn’t want to fight, but he had really hurt me by caring more about getting himself a new car more than about this big huge life changing thing we’re embarking on. I think he gets it, and I feel mostly okay today. Besides the seepage.

Now I’m just hoping for a good long weekend. Fight free, but full of progesterone. Yuck.

Progesterone prescribed

And unfortunately, I have to “take” it vaginally.

I’ve never done this. I’m not thrilled about it. It sounds like being on monistat for the next ten days. Any advice on “insertion”? I’m not sure I know what I’m doing. I’m pretty sure I don’t know what I’m doing.

I’m absolutely sure I don’t know what I’m doing. Ugh.

I guess I really am in the big leagues now.

Test Result

Progesterone is: 0.71

Yeah, I did NOT ovulate. Which is fine, whatevs. Now I just need to call my RE (that’s right, now that I’m done with Clinic #1 he gets the official title of RE. It’s as exciting as winning the Hunger Games for him, I’m sure) to get him to prescribe some progesterone (I actually have some at home for that matter) so we can get this show on the road.

Bloodwork, Things I forgot about yesterday, and Chief

So, I got my progesterone check done this morning. Clinic #1 was quick today, although they don’t actually do it-they send me to another clinic. But they got it all checked in before sending me. I felt a little bad, because the mean receptionist (who was less mean today, but by no means jolly) said that my doctor wants to have a picture on file of all her patients. If I had been less of a chicken, I would have said “Well after today I won’t be coming back, so there’s no need to take that picture” but I didn’t. I didn’t want them to retaliate and withhold my test results or something! I mean, I know they can’t do that, but again, I’m a chicken.

Anyway, I got the good phlebotomist today (the one who FINALLY got my blood last time), so once she had me sitting in the chair I was stuck and done within a minute. Super easy. Her needle sticks hurt more, but who cares at this point. I’m over needles.

There are a few things I forgot to tell you about the new clinic:

1. My RE is Guatemalan and does have an accent, but I didn’t have troubles understanding him.
2. He has an adorable laugh. I can’t even describe it. But it’s precious (in an old man sort of way, not a Hugh Jackman sort of way)
3. He said that when I come in for all my testing he wants to get me as his first patient that day because he’ll need more time with me (swoon).
4. They apparently work with Freedom Fertility Pharmacy, which is awesome
5. They do a flat self-pay rate on the IUI, which is also awesome.
6. I think there’s more, but I can’t remember.

Also this: He called me last night-not his nurse, him. He called around 7:30 pm asking if I wouldn’t mind obtaining a copy of my HSG CD because he wants to go over it with me on my next visit. Apparently the Radiology folks are not the best about releasing that stuff to doctors. A doctor who doesn’t make his nurse do everything is pretty cool in my book.

And now, to Chief.

Oh Chief.

We’re having a problem. Not a big problem persay, but a problem nonetheless. Sometimes, Chief gets a wild hare and really wants to go with it. Right now that wild hare is a new car. Which makes NO sense.

His car is NOT OLD. It’s a 2010 or 11 Kia Soul, and there’s nothing wrong with it. I’m majorly jinxing us, but we’ve never had any problems with it. Ever. It’s in great shape, not too many miles, and it holds ALL the tools he needs. And it’s a lot of tools. Like so many tools that the back storage area is always full, because he just leaves his toolboxes in the car. That’s fine, it’s his car, whatever.

But the cars he keeps looking at are used BMW convertibles, or Pontiac GTO’s. They’re all pretty cheap, like in the $7000 range, but they all have close to 300,000 miles! Which is why they’re so cheap! And it would be fine if he were just dreaming for a “someday” third, fun vehicle, but the thing is he really thinks it’s a good idea to trade his car for one of these. Here’s where I stand:

1. We’re not too far from paying the Kia off. We did finance it for far too long because at the time we were BROKE and Chief’s credit wasn’t great. So it’s not like we only have three payments left, but just a few years.

1.5 That being said, most of what we’ve paid on the Kia is interest, so we still owe quite a bit on the overall “value” of the car. With the way dealers are, we might owe right around what it’s worth, meaning we’d possibly break even on it, but I don’t think we’d make anything. MAJOR downside.

2. Unless he’s wanting to quit his second job where he has to build things (which he tell me he wants to keep), it does NOT make sense to trade in the Kia for something smaller that couldn’t hold all his tools.

3. These cars have WAY too many miles on them. The Kia hasn’t even hit 100,000-it would be a major downgrade.

4. Umm, yeah, we’re trying to get pregnant, and for us it’s way more expensive to do than Joe Blow down the street. And honestly, if we’re ever successful NEITHER of the cars he’s shown me that he’s seriously thinking about make sense for a family vehicle.

5. Both of the cars he’s shown me are stick shift, which I don’t drive and don’t WANT to drive, meaning that switching cars for any reason would be difficult (sometimes we switch if mine needs a repair or an oil change, which he can do at work).

He’s just got an itch, and it bothers me, because I have to be the voice of reason. I have to be the bad guy who says no. He keeps saying that he could probably get the new car to finance for the same amount of time we have left on the Kia, and for a lower payment, and I get that-I really do see why that’s appealing to him, but the overall turnout isn’t good. Sure we’d have a cheaper payment month to month, but in the long run we’d really be losing a good vehicle (that, just by the way, HAS A WARRANTY).

I hate saying no to him. I hate being the jerk. But I just can’t see a big enough win in this situation to consider it. If he were looking at a larger vehicle than what he has for a good price and decent miles, I wouldn’t say no right away. I’d say we could go and talk to the dealer and look at the car. But these cars aren’t practical. I keep telling him that someday I PROMISE we can have a fun car. But it has to be one we can both drive and that we both agree on, and it probably has to be a third vehicle, unless we never get pregnant and give up, in which case I say we can trade in both of our small SUV’s (I drive a Jeep Patriot) for fun cars.

But now? Worst timing ever Chief. And now I feel like a bad wife.