Thought’s on Lucky Bean’s Gender

I’m sorry that I seem to just be doing P updates and I sincerely apologize if this bring any of you any pain. I am trying to live in the moment but it’s not been easy as I still feel like I’m in a very terrible TWW so I’m still in turmoil most days.

I even bought a doppler yesterday. It’s supposed to come a few days before our OB appointment, which is a torturous 3 weeks away, June 9th. I went with a new clinic since my regular OB doesn’t do prenatal care :(. The doctor I chose delivered my friend, B’s son and I like the look of her. I hope to not use the doppler, though. I’m just trying to trust the process.

But on to gender news. The nurse from the clinic sent us the gender in a letter on some sticky notes that I’ll have to remember to frame or at least put somewhere safe since the envelope is just on the dining room table waiting for a cat to destroy it.

Now I know we all have gender preferences, even if it’s slight. I know we all, as infertiles, want to be altruistic (not sure if that’s the correct word) and just so grateful for the opportunity but I know, for me personally, I always had a preference for a boy.

For no good reason, mind you. I think mostly because I was a nightmare growing up and I didn’t want my chickens coming home to roost :). Silly right?

So when we found out the embryo transferred is male I was over the moon! So over the moon that I allowed myself to put some baby boy clothes in my H&M shopping cart. We’ll save the actual buy for much later on.

Then over the next couple days all the little girls in my life just became extra cute and funny. Not that they weren’t before, of course, it was just story after story that made me think about not having a girl.

First, we went out to dinner with our friends who have a 3yr old girl who is extremely verbose and hilarious. She’s in the honest phase too which is always funny. Her dad told us that he was walking around the house without a t-shirt on and she looked at him and said “Daddy you have yucky fur”. She also gives him a hard time about wearing shorts around the house because of his hairy legs. She asks him to put pants on.

Then my brother sent us a picture of a sign that my 8 year old niece put on her bedroom door that said “Do NOT come in. I am crying.” because my brother didn’t buy her any sweets when he went shopping. She’s so dramatic, I love her.

The next day on Facebook my bestie posted a picture of her 2yr old daughter watching herself crying in the mirror. I laughed so hard and I’m still chuckling at this. What a character.

And then over the weekend my sister-in-law sent us a picture of my aforementioned niece with a very sad look on her face with her arm fully bandaged and in a makeshift sling made by daddy. They were play wrestling and someone fell on her poor arm… Twice. She was distraught but otherwise not seriously hurt. My poor diva angel.

So all of this made me pretty sad about not having a girl. I love how dramatic they are. My niece, in particular, is so funny with her antics. She’s full of stories.

She’s the only girl cousin. She has a brother and my other brother has a son. And my sister-in-law’s sister has two boys. In fact, in our circle of friends we only have about 4 girls out of about 15 kids. It would have been nice to help even out the playing field.

So while I’m excited and relieved I did experience sadness at not having a little daddy’s girl. I mentioned to N about being a little bummed and all he said was “Hey, you never know, Lucky Bean could be a big diva too.”



I’m not very religious. We’re going through some stuff now. Jesus and I. I’ll cover that another time but for now just know that that’s where I stand.

I was raised in the church, though. Baptized, confirmed, Sunday school, etc. And my mom is still very much in the church. She’s the only reason I still have my toe in the Christianity pool. But I digress.

Every morning I drive by a Church that has one of those signs outside. Not saying when the next service is. It usually says something inspirational or thoughtful. Sometimes they’re random and I can’t use any of it but sometimes somehow when I’m in the most turmoil I’ll get a sign that speaks to me specifically and really helps me.

During the course of these last 4 cycles (The first cycle I was at my old job on a different route) I’ve actually come to rely on this sign and it feels really good when it has something that I can use to get me through whatever it is I need to get through.

Honestly I can’t remember the ones that stuck out to me over the years but on the day of my beta I drove up to the clinic in a complete daze. Teary eyed and stressed out and I wasn’t even thinking of the sign and when I saw it, it was exactly what I needed to see. Nothing original, just simple and it helped me so much. I felt so much better and calmer after that. It was like it was saying, “Don’t worry fam, I got you”.

I saw it everyday up until last Thursday with our ultrasound. It’s like they changed it right when I didn’t need it anymore. The message that’s on it now doesn’t really pertain to me. I’m going to go ahead and say it’s up there for someone else who might need it.

I’ll leave the message here for anyone who might need it.

Happy Tuesday friends.


Update on Lucky Bean

This has been the longest week of my life but I’m glad it’s over. But yesterday was nothing like I imagined it.

On Monday we had an horrendous PIO ordeal. N had to inject me 3 times. The first time he hit a nerve and the second there was blood. The third was fine but resulted in the worst bruise. He pleaded for me to call the nurse to find out if there’s something we could do. I eventually called on Wednesday and she said we would draw blood to check my progesterone and if it’s high enough we can stop. Of course I would do a gazillion more shots if it meant this would end happily but I’m not going to lie, I definitely dread PIO time now. Both of us do.

Wednesday, I must have cried a million times. My symptoms had all but disappeared and I took a pregnancy test and although the test line popped up immediately it was lighter than the control. N only got home after 9 so I was stuck in my head for most of the evening. When he got home I asked him if he wasn’t afraid that there would be nothing there. He simply said No. There was no reason for him to  be afraid. His only fear was that there would be twins lol. I’ve never met anyone going through infertility more opposed to the idea of twins.

Thursday both of us were up ridiculously early. Thankfully my symptoms came back in full force. I felt very calm. We were just sitting around for a while so we just decided to go in early. Good thing we did because traffic was atrocious and we got there with minutes to spare.

The ultrasound tech A came running out at 10 and said she has been waiting all morning for this. As we walked in with her she said she was so excited to see my name on the OB ultrasound list :). I love that they get so involved. As I was getting ready N was talking to her about recording the scan for family and she said sure but to let her first see what’s going on, just in case. She told me that she would be able to see right away so she wouldn’t leave me in suspense.

As soon as she put the probe in we saw the black circle. She said Awww loook. But I just saw the circle. She said N could go ahead and record and when she adjusted everything came into view perfectly.

I thought I would cry instantly (I’m welling up a bit now) but I think I was in disbelief. Lucky bean wasn’t moving or wiggling and I couldn’t see a heartbeat so I wasn’t breathing. Was A lying to us about everything being perfect?

She said that I was 7 weeks 5 days but this baby wants to be 8 weeks. She said it was the best looking baby she’d seen that day. I’m sure she says that to everyone but it made my day. The more she gushed the more relaxed I felt. She took loads of pics. Showed us the yolk sac which looked like a balloon that our little Pennywise was holding.

Then she showed us the heartbeat. So tiny. So perfect. We couldn’t hear it but there it was. I couldn’t stop smiling.

Everything else was good. No swollen ovaries. No SCH. Just the luckiest bean there ever has been.

Afterwards we met with L. One of our team nurses. I recognized the voice and she said we spoke on the phone before. She just went over all the pictures and answered our few questions. I’m an idiot. I forgot to write down all the questions I had and I just remembered another one. I’m going to have to call again. Anyway, after a longish discussion we were pretty much sent on our way with our pics and a handshake.

No chorus line. No fireworks. But it felt good. Certainly bittersweet like people describe but I think I kept my relationship with everyone very professional so even though I’d been there for almost 2 years I didn’t form any unbreakable bonds with anyone. I was sad that I didn’t see my RE or L my main nurse. I’m going to pop her an email later. She’s been with me since day one. We’ve only seen each other face to face twice but I’d really like to express my eternal gratitude even though she wasn’t my nurse with this successful round.

We also told pretty much everyone. Still missing N’s grandad, his brother on his mom’s side and he’s step dad and his aunts and uncles. But pretty much everyone on my side knows. And I told my boss this morning. He was very happy an excited. I still couldn’t say the words, I just said that our last round of IVF worked. We talked for a bit about symptoms etc etc and he just kept saying “That’s awesome… that’s awesome”.

So that’s where we are now. Oh after work yesterday I called my beloved OB to make and appointment and just as I suspected he doesn’t do prenatal care. They told me I could meet with anyone else at the office (Dr G and two midwives). You’ll remember Dr G from my awful OB post. I made an appointment with one of the midwives but they said that I would meet with all of them eventually because anyone could be there when I give birth… Uh, no thank you.

I have 2 other options for OB offices. One, my friend B recommended had midwives but I don’t like the OB’s. Dr Y was one of them, also from my awful OB post and I don’t want to be stuck with her at go time. My last option seems to be where I’m going to go but they don’t have midwives. I don’t know. I’m going to see what N thinks.

I still can’t believe I’m having this problem, though. Struggling to choose prenatal care… Me… Shitty egg girl.

It’s difficult to describe my feelings now. I feel like there are too many to process all at once. Thankfully I have years of infertility training to help.

Just one day at a time.

Story Time: Worst Date Ever


I don’t know why but I was thinking about this chap the other day and I decided to write about my worst date ever since it’s Friday and we could all do with a little distraction after yesterday’s news. Please know that no one was harmed in this story but we’ll change the names of parties involved to respect their privacy. Please also note that traffic laws in South Africa are very different to here and had this played out in America the story would have ended with a lot more arrests and definite jail time. It would be better if you read this with an open mind.

So I was, for lack of a better description, newly single and ready to mingle when I moved to Cape Town from Johannesburg. Excited to dip my toes in the dating pool. I went with my friends to a club one Saturday night where I met a cute but somewhat dim barman. Joe.

We flirted for most of the night and when it was time to leave we swapped numbers. We subsequently texted back and forth for a few days and eventually decided to go on a date the following Saturday. Nothing serious. Just pizza.

At around 7 on the night in question he picked me up in his red Fiat Uno. He was sweet. He even opened the car door for me.

Conversation at the pizza place was fine. He was very chatty, a little braggy and he knew the servers at the place so he was talking to them mostly and introducing me. He did seem fidgety though but I just chalked it up to first date jitters. I decided to get some tequilas to maybe help us rekindle to easy flirtiness from the previous weekend. Once our inhibitions were a bit lowered I learned that he had a little child and that he and the mother had a terrible break up. I don’t think he was over the break up. He didn’t have much nice to say about her and mentioned that the relationship is strained and that made seeing his child difficult. I sympathized but I checked out. The relationship I had just gotten out of was with a fellow who had a child and I really had no interest in baby daddy drama again. So I figured we’ll just have some fun tonight and keep it moving. In hindsight, I should have just had him take me home at that point.

After we finished the pizza we decided to move to another pub in my hood to be in my comfort zone. On the drive over he casually mentioned that his ex actually worked at the pizza place we just left but she wasn’t working that night. He seemed disappointed. So he took me there for what? To be a pawn in some game? Hmm.

I was a little aggravated and decided to text my friend at the next spot to come save me if need be. I also decided that we should get drunk because fuck it. Please note at this stage we’d only had 2 tequilas each. At the new place I ordered two jager’s and a beer for myself and we talked some more. He was loose jawed at this stage and was more free with information on this previous relationship that I had no interest in hearing about but was ultimately subjected to anyway. I ordered another round of jagers and it was like a light switch. He.was.trashed. After four shots? Really? While heavily slurring he proceeded to tell me that things were bad with his ex because he did something bad. I don’t remember details but there was an altercation with someone (perhaps a new love interest with the ex? I can’t remember) and he ended spending time in jail for assault. Like maximum security prison. Well, that was a first for me. He also told me that now that he’s out he was actively trying to make the right choices. He got a job. He scrounged and hustled to buy the car so that he can see his child more often and be a better father. While he was telling me about his time in jail and his new lease on life I was furiously texting my friend, Lexi, for a bail out. Incidentally, she was just down the road at another pub on a date as well. Thank goodness.

I told him to let’s pack it up and move on. Again, I should have left him there and left but he was quite drunk and it didn’t feel right. Stupidly, I let him drive down the road to where my friend was. Luckily, it was literally one block down but he was in no shape to be driving.

At the next place he had become that annoying drunk. No personal space and just whining and apologizing for being so drunk and trying to dance. Four shots guys. I was incensed. Lexi just laughed. We stayed a while longer and he ended up passing out in a booth. Lexi told me she and her date we going to another bar. I wanted to go with them but Drunky McDrunkerson wasn’t going to make that possible. I had to leave.  I grabbed his keys and managed to get him up and buddy walked him out of the bar and tossed him into the car. Four shots.

I realized that there is no way this guy could get himself home and there was no way I was going to let him stay at my place. I decided I would leave him in the car outside of my house and leave him a message on his phone.

As I was driving mister opens the door and starts violently throwing up out of the car. I quickly pulled over and wondered how this date could possibly get any worse. Ha.

I’ll stop here for a second to give some insight on traffic laws in South Africa. In SA we have a high rate of smash and grabs and carjackings. A smash and grab is when you’re sitting a traffic light and someone smashes your window (driver or passenger side) and steals whatever they can really quickly and runs away. Chances are you’ll be stuck in traffic and can’t really run or drive after a thief. So the rule is 1. That you never leave anything important in sight and you never talk on your phone at red light and 2. At night, if you don’t feel safe at a red traffic light, it’s okay for you run the light, essentially. Obviously you have to make sure it’s clear but you generally wouldn’t get into trouble if you were caught doing this. It’s common practice.

It was around 1 or 2am and Joe had emptied his tummy and was now fully reclined in the passenger seat in snooze town. Off we went. We came to a red light and there was a car behind me. I did the necessary checks to make sure the coast was clear and proceeded to drive through the red light.

Out of nowhere a small white ford pickup truck comes plowing up the hill from the left and slams into the front of the Uno. Hard. It happened in slow motion. The car spun around for what felt like hours. I vividly remember screaming and grabbing Joe’s shirt by the chest and looking over at his peaceful sleeping body. We finally came to a stop in the middle of the intersection. I gathered myself a bit and started panicking. I shook Joe with all my might but he was dead to the world. I was yelling at him to wake up. How is it possible that he slept through that?

There was a knock on my door. It was the driver of the ford. A youngster. He too, was panicky. He asked if I was okay. I was. I asked the same of him and he was too. He opened the door for me but I was still trying to wake this punk up. Eventually, he started stirring and grudgingly open his eyes and sat up.

I was like “Dude, we were in a car accident. Are you okay?”. He started moaning. Not because he was hurt but because his car was trashed. Can you imaging waking up to that out of a drunken stupor? I didn’t have time to feel terrible just yet because I was still a bit confused. I looked over at the ford. It was ruined as well. It came to a standstill at the opposite end of intersection, the front left wheel completely bent. The young chap was on the phone with, I assumed, the authorities.

Joe and I got out of the car and my knee started throbbing. We checked each other out but we were, for all intents and purposes, okay. The lady in the car behind us was in hysterics though. Her husband was on the phone with the police and he had us sit on the curb. She was shouting incoherently about how that guy came out of nowhere but why did I drive through the red light.

I found my phone and called, Lexi. She came right as the cops came. At this point Joe was distraught. I remember him standing over the wreck with his head in his hands then pacing up and down muttering to himself. I started to feel really awful. Poor guy. first his girlfriend breaks up with him, then he goes to jail and when he gets out a strange girl wrecks his car.

2 police officers came. They were mulling over the wreckage and speaking to hysterical wife. For what reason I have no idea. I think she took over the situation. The problem was that she was telling them that I ran a red light. She didn’t mention that I had stopped and looked first or that the other driver thought he was in the Fast and Furious. I had to get up and give my side of the story. Then the strangest thing happened.

I glanced over at the ford where the youngy was on the phone. He wasn’t there. I stood up to see where he had gone and quick as a flash another white car pulled up in front of the ford. I see Youngy run jump into the car and off they go. He just left the scene of an accident. He just did a hit and run. Literally. The cops didn’t see it. I told Lexi and she said to tell the cops. I spoke to the lady cop and said that the driver of the other vehicle just drove off.

She sighed and chuckled and said, “Well that’s good for you then”. I was shocked.

I was giving the rest of my statement when another fancy car pulled up. A very concerned mother and her son walked over. He seemed in his early 20s. A very rich looking mother and son. It turns out the ford belonged to the son and his friend had taken the car for a quick drive. They came to exchange insurance info, I think and maybe squash this whole thing.

I took them over to were Joe was laying on the curb with his arms over his face, smoking a cigarette. He didn’t have insurance. They asked what they can do. He said nothing, the car was junk. And that was that. I think mom and son just wanted to get the hell out of there. They didn’t stick around long.

Eventually, once tow trucks were organized, Lexi said I should call my brother. Ugh, I was so embarrassed. Thankfully my heavily pregnant sister-in-law was awake and the two of them came to pick me and Joe up. I wish the world would have swallowed me up. I’m a little scared of my brother. He’s like my father sometimes. So you can imagine me telling him I’d just been in a car accident with a guy I just met. I still have to ask him what he thought of that night. I know he was concerned but I also imagine he was just shaking his head in disappointment en route to picking his crazy sister up.

AND he had to give Joe a lift home too. A still very drunk, highly depressed Joe.

I wish there was more to the accident story. But honestly, the other driver wasn’t there to give his side of the story and no one was hurt. So once the tow trucks fetched the cars we were all fine to be on our way.

The car ride to Joe’s was awfully quiet. When he got out of the car he turned to me and said he would call me in the morning.

The following day poor Joe had to take a taxi to my place and I drove him to the police station to get a police report. We were both very apologetic. Him for losing the plot and making me drive and me for, you know, ruining his life.

After walking out of the police station I offered to take him home and he said no he’d just take another taxi. He turned away and walked up the street and I watched a broken man walk off into the distance.

We never spoke again after that. I heard through the grapevine a few years on that he was dating someone so I hope that everything turned out okay for him.

As for me, I went on to experience many a terrible date. But none came close to this story.


Have you had any bad dates that you can laugh about now?

Random Thoughts *Possible Trigger Warning – IVF Update*


I still don’t know how to transition from IVF to possible “P” posts (stole that from mamajo). I don’t like saying the word just  yet. Is it too early for trigger warning posts? Am I counting my chickens before they hatch? Anyway, I’ll just leave it and give people the choice and hope that I haven’t jinxed myself with all of this reveling in good fortune.

So we’re still in in so-far-so-good land over here. My final beta on Monday rose more than enough for them to schedule the first ultrasound on May 11th (might as well be next year).

I felt good and confident that day so I posted my betas on my Instagram account in an act of faith that this is going to work.

No sooner had I posted and let my guard down did the universe teach me another lesson. First pee of the morning at work on Tuesday came with a healthy helping of dark red blood and a clot. I was a complete mess all day. The clinic obviously couldn’t do anything. They just said to monitor it and if I’m soaking a pad in an hour or experiencing severe pain, especially on either side, I should call back or go to the ER. It sucks that there’s nothing anyone can do in these situations. If it ends, it ends.

My saving grace that day was the I was feeling incredibly sick all day. I’ve been telling my friends that I so badly want to experience everything, even debilitating morning sickness, so while I was breathing slowly trying not to puke at my desk I was quietly very excited.

The bleeding eventually stopped and I’ve just been brown spotting everyday since. No cramps or anything. My breast hurt to the touch and I feel motion sick for most of the day. But I’m not going to lie, I’m scared.

The rest of this week has been torture of course and I have 2 more full weeks of torture to go before the ultrasound. My days have been passing pretty much the same with these same thoughts going through my head all day.

  • Waking up: Do my boobs hurt? Let me roll around on them a bit more to make sure.
  • Getting out of bed: Oh yeah, definitely still sore. Although, is that because I mashed them into the bed for 5 minutes?
  • On the toilet: Please no blood, please no blood, please no blood.
  • Brushing teeth: Right let’s see if brushing my tongue will make me sick. Let’s also squeeze the boobs again.
  • Driving to work: Was that blood? *wiggles in the seat*
  • First pee check at work: Please no blood, please no blood, please no blood.
  • Trying to work: Was that blood? *wiggles in the seat*. Let’s poke the boobs and hope no one notices.
  • Feeling queasy: Yeeees, yeees bring it on little one. Loving it.
  • Lunchtime: I’m starving.
  • First bite: I’m full.
  • 5th bite: This tastes delicious!
  • 7th bite: This tastes disgusting!… Was that blood? *seat wiggle*
  • Bathroom check number 27: Please no blood, please no blood, please no blood.
  • 2hrs to home time: Can this day please end. I have preggo tests to take!
  • Final minutes of work: Let’s add things to private baby pinterest board.
  • 1 pin later: Okay that’s enough, don’t get cocky.
  • Final bathroom check: I’m sure I’ve bled through everything this time. Come on baby, prove me wrong please.
  • Drive home: We did it little one! We survived another day! Tomorrow I won’t be so stressed out. We’re good. Life is good. You’re not going anywhere. *Butt cheeks finally unclench*

Quarter’s End


Boy, do I suck at this lol… But I have an excuse! It’s end of quarter at the school which is craaaazy so I’ve been working way to hard to think about blogging or life. But it’s quieted down a bit so expect a few posts a day so I can catch up on this before the end of the week. I apologize for bogging down your emails if you’re subscribed :).

So this past week I missed a deadline. A big deadline. My first big eff up at the new job. I was expecting to be fired but my boss just sat with me and we had a teaching moment discussion. I still felt completely rotten for most of the day but my boss’s demeanor didn’t change with me throughout the day and we had a few laughs after about other stuff.

It got me thinking about how good it feels to finally have a good manager. I was reminded of my last job where I also made one eff up and the meeting I was subjected to felt like a congressional hearing.

I’m not making excuses for myself but at this stage the company was going through a merger and we got new software that everyone was trying to wrap their heads around. It wasn’t a good time since we were still having to process work in the old system while trying to process new jobs in the new system. Things are bound to fall through the cracks. Also while all of this was going on procedures were changing with how projects were run. Procedures that we got little to no training on. Just a quick mention in meetings. One of these procedural changes was just a quick checking of a checkbox that we’ve never previously done. Unfortunately, this checkbox, if it wasn’t checked had knock on effects down the road. Effects that wouldn’t be picked up unless it was looked for specifically but effects that messed up data that was presented to clients. Whoops. Guess who wasn’t checking that checkbox for about 10 projects.

I’ll never forget the day. I only reported to one manager but there are 3 in the office. bare in mind that I was also a manager like the other two, though they were a bit more senior than I was. I was called in and had to sit across from the 3 of them and had to answer questions about this egregious error. I felt like a dumb child being spoken down to. “How could you let this happen?” “Walk me through your thought process, step by step”.

I felt terrible. My punishment was that I was to send and “apology” email to all the customer service guys who worked on the projects and I had to fix the error and resend data reports.

But the more I thought about it the more angry I got and I couldn’t understand why such a big deal was being made about it. Mostly because everyone in customer service seemed unconcerned and thankfully none of the reports had been presented yet so crisis averted right?

I think I know why such a big deal was made. This wasn’t an issue of negligence it was an issue of a broken system and lack of training. Things were changing so rapidly that upper management had no time to set up proper training sessions. I won’t go into details of how things were coming apart at the seams. Things have calmed down now and are a lot smoother, I’m sure, but those few months were awful and a lot of people jumped ship so they had to deal with that as well. Anyway, I think my boss knew that I wasn’t fully to blame and she didn’t want any push back from me so she called in her 2 buddies to back her up in case I fought with her. Luckily for them I’m a pushover and I took all the berating. Also for the rest of the day my boss just seemed moody with me. Ugh that’s a tale for another day though. I should start a whole new blog to tell stories about that old job. You would be amazed and horrified.

Anyway, the point of this story was that having a good manager will make or break you. I’ve had my share of really awful and really great managers and I’m very happy to be going through this stage of my life (read: infertility) with a great one.