Posted by: katarinajellybeana | March 13, 2008

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my husband, Peter Griffin

7 w

There are times I wonder if I live in a 60s sit com.

Preamble: We have two bathrooms in our home.  One has just been finished after 2 years in flux.  The other has served admirably over the last few years.  But the toilet flusher broke 3 months ago.  I’ve been asking Mr. JB to fix it for me since it broke.  We’ve been flushing it with water from an old cat litter bucket (TRANSLATION: *I* have been using an old cat litter bucket to flush it multiple times in the middle of the night). I had planned to do it myself, but wasn’t sure about how or if I understood the instructions I found.  So I asked again.  And again.  And then Monday night.  Tuesday night. “Honey, I hate to nag, but could you PLEASE fix the toilet?”


So last night we went out for a lovely dinner.  I had lobster & pasta.  Brought home a piece of cheesecake for later in the evening.  Ate it.


Went on like that for the next hour or so.  Went up to bed early with Mr. JB (8ish).    Started to get ready for bed…and had to make a dash for the bathroom.  Like a going out of business sale, everything must go.  From my marriage bed, my husband subtly turns up the TV to ear splitting levels.  I finish up, go to the sink, rinse my face and mouth, take a minute to compose myself….and then realize that after all of that, I need to fill up the G***D**** bucket to wash down the remnants of my dinner.

I clean up.  I even clean the bathroom to make sure it isn’t too gross to work on.  Go into the bedroom.  Mr. JB is proped up in bed staring at the tv.  I just stand there.  Hands on hips.  Waiting.  He finally turns it down to normal levels.  I use every bit of strength I have to say “Sweetie, could you please fix the toilet?” in a normal tone of voice.

Mr. JB doesn’t realize that he rolls his eyes as he says “Do you WANT me to do it NOW?”

“I just want you to do it soon.”

“But do you want me to do it NOW?” 

“I don’t want to make you get out of bed, but I would like you to do it SOON.”

“Isn’t the bucket-flushing working?”

I take a deep, deep breath.  “YES.  Of course it is. But, and I know you may not be able to relate to this, I am peeing several times a night.  And, apparently, I’ve had some nausea that’s resulted in vomiting.  I’m not sure you heard that over the blaring tv, but I WAS throwing up in there.  While I certainly CAN flush with the bucket, I’m not feeling that hot to begin with and all I want is to come back to bed, but I can’t because I have to FLUSH WITH THE STUPID BUCKET.”

Mr. JB looks at me blankly. “So do you want me to fix it NOW?”

Another deep breath. “Look.  I don’t want to be the wife who makes you get out of bed to do the chore you’ve been putting off for months, but I think I’ve got the right to play that card right now.  I’m carrying your child, the least you can do for me is to FIX THE FUCKING TOILET. Do it tomorrow if you want, but be prepared for me to be pissed if you don’t get it done before you leave town this weekend.”

Mr. JB finally looks a little sheepish.  I think the actual hassle of this whole situation from my perspective is dawning on him.  Mumbles something about feeling bad he hasn’t done it yet.  “Ok.  I’ll do it now.”  He then huffily gets out of bed and stomps around the house, gathering tools, cursing under his breath, not looking at me, crabby that I kept him from bed, annoyed that he had to do it NOW (which, I shall remind you, good reader, he did not).

It takes him all of 20 minutes to do it.  He comes back to bed all sulky and grumpy.  I thank him sweetly….and then proceed to sleep the WHOLE NIGHT without one trip to the bathroom.

Told him he didn’t have to do it right then.

Posted by: katarinajellybeana | March 12, 2008



Originally uploaded by bigcatillinois

Better view of the sea monkey. The big giant head is the bigger half of the blobby part and the yolk salk is the other half.

I just scanned these in and they aren’t really clear. I will try to get better photos of them up later today.

Posted by: katarinajellybeana | March 12, 2008



Originally uploaded by bigcatillinois

Everything went well yesterday. Whew! I was exhausted afterward and slept much of the day, but the appointment went well.

We got in a little early and the tech brought us back right away. She asked me the date of my LMP. ???? I don’t keep track of my fertility in such ways. I’m a MUCH more sophisticated (read: infertile) woman. So I told her my IUI had been exactly 5 weeks ago. She had no idea what that meant, but wanted to know if I thought I had, like, 5 in there. I said no. Probably one. MAYBE two. Shouldn’t be any more than that.

So she inserts the dildocam and I make bad jokes. She smiled and said “Yep! Only one, but I’m getting a good heartbeat.”

I laughed with relief.

Overall, baby is measuring at 6w5d. My due date is October 27th. The heartbeat was 132, which was dubbed perfect.


She turned the screen so we could see. The little tiny white blob flickered and floated on the screen.

I’m trying really hard to believe in it. To think it’s real. I thought seeing it would help. And it does. Some. But the knowledge that it can be taken away at any moment hangs like a black cloud in the back of my brain.

For today, that black cloud is just making the sunshine I’m standing in brighter.

Posted by: katarinajellybeana | March 11, 2008

Edge of my seat

7 weeks

Today is my ultrasound.  I’m overwhelmed with fears and feelings. I’ll let you know how it goes.

 It’s funny.  I was so familiar with infertility that I knew all the angles.  I knew what to write about.  I knew what to say.  I’m in a no (wo)mans land now.  I’m in this place where I wonder what will happen to me.  Treatments I knew.  They were fightening, to be sure, but I knew what to expect. 

I could (and have) read volumes about what to expect from pregnancy, but the fact is that it could be taken away from me at any time.  I have no idea what’s going to happen.  No idea what to expect. 

 Sorry I’ve been so quiet on your blogs lately. I’ve been out there.  I’ve been reading. I’ve been praying in lots of cases. After today it might be better.

Posted by: katarinajellybeana | March 8, 2008

Now lemme show you how its done…


Is there something attached to the y chromosome that prevents them from seeing crumbs? Dripped jelly? Stubble on the sink? Things in the refrigerator?

I sometimes wish I had one of those nifty light pens and instant replay like in pro football….

“So you see, honey, the start of the problem was HERE (big circle around picture).  This is when you  stuck the peanut butter knife into the brand new jar of jelly.  If we zoom in (zoom) and take a look at the knife (BIG ARROWS) you can clearly see that massive amounts of peanut butter have been deposited into the jelly!”

Easily annoyed, I am.  And burpy.  And gassy.  And queasy.  And tired.  But those are the bad ones.  I’m also really happy, very quippy and REALLY, um, well….my libido is super high.  SUPER high.

Posted by: katarinajellybeana | March 6, 2008

Like vacuuming a penny

6 w 2d

Sorry I didn’t write yesterday.  I was home on the couch and feeling very puny.  I did have to come in to work for a bit because the flu is sweeping through my department like nobody’s business and I had no students to cover the desk for a couple of hours.  I looked like holy heck, but I managed to sit upright and even smile a bit, so that’s something. 

I’m busy getting my work in order so that I can leave at anytime.  I’m writing up a new procedures manual that will tell someone just about everything they would need to know.  It isn’t that I fear bedrest or think there will be complications, I just want to quit and I’m not sure when the mood will strike me to give my two weeks or if I’ll be able to hold out until I am on STD.  We’ve always planned that one of us would stay home.  For a long time we thought it would be Mr. JellyBeana, but he simply makes more money than I do and has an extremely flexible schedule and likes his job reasonably well.  I make a crappy wage, like 75% of my job and detest 25% of it.  Plus, I get bored and am ready for a change every 5 years or so.

Last night I noticed how gross breath can smell.  Yerg.  Mr. JB has been warned that he must brush his teeth before coming near me now. I felt bad asking, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

I slept hard last night.  Very deeply.  I started having this awful dream.  I was vacuuming the living room and it was covered in little metal objects–screws, nuts, bolts, pennies, ball berrings.  It was making a HORRIBLE sound as they rattled around.  Then the metal things started shooting out and cutting my legs and arms and pelting the cats and dog.  I woke up with a start…..but I STILL HEARD THE NOISE! 

It was only then that I realized it was the sound of Mr. JB snoring.  I punched him in the arm and told him that his snoring was giving me nightmares and it needed to stop or he was sleeping on the couch.  Nary a peep after that.

Posted by: katarinajellybeana | March 4, 2008


6w, 0d

Thanks for all the great responses to my mini-freak-out, everyone!  You really put my mind at ease.  Knowing that it wasn’t at all crazy to want another beta made me feel much better about it.  Hearing from people/muppets I know and trust that the symptoms come and go was a huge relief.  I can read it on the message boards all I want, but when the infertiles here say it, I know it must be true.

In the end, I decided not to call for the beta.  Why?  Because this week I get to be pregnant.  If I take a test, then there is a chance that I would find out that that’s not the case.  It would go from being a week where I have a baby inside me to one where I discovered my loss.  Why make that happen in my life any sooner than next week?  I’ll try to be calm, serene, peaceful. Worries can flit in and out, but they don’t stay for long.

My mind is still mush.  I’m still exhausted.  I wish I could come up with more to talk about, more to write about, but I’ve got something like writers block.  Mommy brain? Constant wonderment? Hormonally induced lethargy?  I had noticed this happen to other bloggers I loved.  They’d just disappear for a bit after the BFP.  Oh, that won’t be me, I would believe.  Not so.  Even when I’m here, I’m not totally here.  And when I’m not here I’m napping. 

I know it will get better.  I’ll be interesting again soon.  Promise.

Posted by: katarinajellybeana | March 3, 2008


5 w, 6 d

So I’ve had a pretty dramatic decrease in symptoms.  No more than an occasional blip of queasyness.  My boobs are still somewhat sensitive.  I’m still tired, but had a stressful weekend.  Occasional cramp.  No spotting (but I’m on prometrium).  Other than that, they’re gone.

No more betas or anything scheduled until next week.  I’m getting nervous.  I’m trying not to be crazy infertile woman.  I’m trying really hard.

Would you call and ask for a beta this week?

Posted by: katarinajellybeana | February 28, 2008

More than work

Here is a list of 10 things that matter to me more than the crappy meeting I had at work that is fueling my hormone induced insomnia:

10. WonderPuppy and the way he looks at me when I get home.  The way the cats swarm my lap, looking for the cushy spot.
9.   Making my friend SoccerMan laugh with tales of my mood swings and antics.
8.   Talking with SportyNiece to wish her good luck with her upcoming basketball games.  I told her I’d be proud of her, even if she just stood on the floor with a stupid look on her face and let the basketball hit her in the head.  She was grateful to hear that.  Sometimes others forget to tell her.
7.    My friend Marian the Librarian.  Golly I adore her.  She has a clarity and common sense about her that is wildly refreshing in a world of academics.
6.    The smell of beef stew, still permeating the house from last night.  Totally comforting.
5.    My parents coming this weekend.  We’ve had a rough few years.  I still haven’t figured out how to forgive them, but I’m learning to accept them.  I have hope that that will get me through the weekend.
4.   Mr. JellyBeana.  I am wildly thankful to be married to such a strong, loving, wonderful man.  He keeps having dreams of me as a mommy.  How cute is that?
3.   Blogging.  It’s my therapy, it’s my outlet, it’s my salvation.  It allows me to get out things that would never otherwise surface.  I write for me, but I’ve found friends and community who understand me in ways I never thought possible. 
2.   The concert I’m going to tonight!  BellyBeana’s first rock show!  I’ll be the one up front, singing along silently and looking so happy it’s unbelievable. 
1.    The existence of BellyBeana.  Hope that it sticks around. Taking care of me to make sure I made a good home.  Thoughts of the future.

Posted by: katarinajellybeana | February 27, 2008

I’m outed

5 weeks, 1 day (until I get a more accurate number based on ultrasound)

Tiredness increasing dramatically.  I still feel good, except for the occasional queasyness. Farah’s tip about nibbling something everytime I get up to pee in the night is spot on.  I’m getting sores in my mouth from the constant lemon drops, so I need to rethink those.

Over the weekend, we went to a cancer benefit for a friend of a friend.  It was a good cause and Jack Perfect’s band was playing, so it seemed like a great night on the town.  I was really tired and VERY hungry, but food was promised, so I just grabbed a sandwich on the way. 

The place was PACKED. It was a great thing to see.  Mr. JB brought me a bottle of water.  I drank it.  And then his.  I started looking around for something to eat.  Nothing.  There was a table of bake sale goodies.  Yick. (Yick? Really? Me?)  So I waited for  awhile.  2, maybe 3 hours.  I started fading fast.  The room cleared out a bit–the older people headed home.  Mr. JB, spotting my fading form, looked around to see if he could find anything.  Candy bars!  Yes! I’ll eat that!  So he brought me one of those fundraiser Krunch bars.  I couldn’t get the wrapper off fast enough.  I ate it in huge bites,  not even looking up from the candy bar, which still had the wrapper clinging to it like a banana. 

As I neared the last bite, pausing to take what must have been my first breath, I looked up and saw a woman about 20 feet from me. Watching me.  Clearly amused.  I smiled sheepishly, looked down at the candy bar and back up at her.  That’s when I noticed she was 8 months pregnant or so.  By the look on her face, she TOTALLY knew why I was eating like a starving woman.  I felt like she was going to come over and show me the secret handshake.

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