Weight: 163.0 lbs.

Ack! That's all I can think of to say on the weight. I mean, I've been eating mostly right and working out and trying to really pay attention to what I'm doing so that I could get back to the 150s and away from the scary 161. I get on the scale for the first time in awhile after working out away from the gym expecting to see a nice drop… or at least a normal toe-the-line same as every other day 160. It took my brain awhile to process the combination of the 1, 6, and 3. Seriously. That's just not right. And yet, it is what it is and I'm not in my life to dwell on that weight. Really though, when stuff like that happens while I'm working to go in the other direction, it tends to scare me. I mean, what would I do if in another 3 days, with the same level of activity, I go to 168? Where is my control? I don't really think that would happen - but the concepts and the what ifs kinda just hang out there.

I am very proud to say that I ran the full 7 miles in the Eagan Fun Run. Well, it was a 2 mile run and then a 5 mile run. Technically, I stopped to walk for about 25 seconds when they handed out water to drink the little cup without choking because really - I didn't want to tax my coordination at that point. The 2 mile run was really nice. It was through this residential area with lots of nice homes that I'd love to live in. A few hills which bugged me since I'm used to running on the perpetually flat land that could go on forever with my treadmill. There was this group of kids that were about Gavin's age (8) that all had bright red shirts on and were running the 2 mile run. Now, I really didn't want to kill myself with the 2 mile since I had a 5 mile to complete after but I also was determined to not let a certain couple of skinny little girls stay in front of me. I almost passed them on the big downhill section where I actually passed a number of people. Hey, taking giant leaps down the hill lets gravity do the work and I don't mind taking advantage of that. The girls, however, were still in front. It wasn't until we got to the last quarter mile that I finally passed them - wussy little kids! At the very end, there was this section of bike trail that led from the road to the finish line in the park. I tend to pick it up when I can see the finish line - mentally it feels like throwing myself across that line. There was this boy, maybe about 12 or so, in front of me on that bike path. He did not want me to pass him. I'd try to go around on one side, and he'd move over on the path to block me. I'd try to go on the other side, and he'd move over to the other side to block me. Then he picked up his pace so that it wasn't an issue anymore anyway. I didn't catch the time when I finished, but my friend there told me it was ~20:04 or so. Considering I was trying to run it slow enough that I'd not die for the 5 mile run, that was pretty impressive. We had about 10-13 minutes to walk a bit and then it was up to the starting line for the 5 mile.

Now, I know that I'm hardly the best runner or anything, but I have to say that I'm used to not being in the very back of any run. Usually, it seems, there are enough people there that are slower (and walking at least some of the way) such that I can feel securely in the middle of the pack. In this 5 mile run, my friend and I found ourselves dead last as we started out. She told me to go on ahead but really, for all that I was happy to look like I was being nice by running with her, I wasn't all that sure I had much 'ahead' in me. It was rough to start out that 5 mile after running the 2. It was more rough to feel like you were really trying hard and EVERYONE, including the mom pushing the 3-wide jogging stroller, was in front of you. Having that fire truck nipping at your heels is creepy. I would've loved to have taken it slower but ego-wise, I just couldn't. Plus, I didn't have my GPS with me and I wasn't entirely certain that if I DID stop to walk and lose the group completely, I'd be able to find my way back. So I ran to get back in the safety of the pack. I ran to stay on course. It was challenging. The self talk you do the whole way. Running past the houses as the people go out to watch the runners and knowing that I could not stop to walk in front of them, period. The sun was out and it was getting really bright on my face. The shady places were good but before long the sun was high enough that the fences along the bike paths weren't keeping it out of my eyes. I managed to burn my face just a bit. I don't know what it is… it isn't painful to run. If there was actual pain in running I'd understand why the drive to stop and walk is so intense. As it is, I don't. During that run in particular, it was just a matter of compartmentalizing that desire to stop and keeping it separate from the mechanics of running. Moving your arms and legs - setting those on a rhythm and leaving your brain to consider other things such as why that police officer back there just told you it was almost over and all downhill from here on out and she totally LIED because now you're going up a little slope. It is weird. I can see the draw to run those longer distances and to practice keeping that desire to stop down. To take control over what you are doing and to own those movements, and to beat that inner voice that wants to NOT do it. Well, 7 miles was absolutely long enough for me! I'll have to do that again and get better at the distances but as of right now, I was quite dead at the end. Dead enough to let Jeanette's dog french kiss me as I laid in the grass at the end anyway, so there you are. Oh, and I again missed my time but my friends told me it was about 53 minutes for that 5 miles… so 73 minutes or so for 7 miles.

I can honestly say that I did not expect to be sore after that run. I've been running 5 mile workouts so really, what's an extra 2 miles? Well, I was a little sore on Sunday. Today I went in and did a 3 mile run (27 minutes and something seconds!!) and I could feel the soreness and tightness while I stretched. The next run is at the end of June and judging by the 7 weeks out thing, I might be able to run that as well. We'll see though.

Last Friday I heard from the guys that it is for sure now that we are going with a new donor. I'm excited to find out where we are at now for everything. I'd have to imagine that it depends on where the donor and I are, cycle-wise. Theoretically, if it was just based on my cycle, we could do a transfer around the middle two weeks of June. It will be so nice to have a plan and schedule that we are all following along and know more or less what is going to happen. It almost sounds crazy to even think about at this point!

I have reconfirmed my belief that restaurants should HAVE to post calorie content for their meals somewhere easily accessible. You may recall that little Stuffed French Toast comment I made. Yes, I knew it was unhealthy. Well, I looked it up, and the sucker had 1500 calories!! If I had known that, there would've been NO WAY I'd have ordered it. Now, one might argue that we are all intelligent people here and we can obviously tell sugar and butter slathered french toast with blueberry pie filling and whipped cream cheese frosting oozing out of it is not going to be good for us. This is totally true. I KNEW as I was eating it that I was eating something bad. The sort of light-headed feeling I got partway through was a good indication although I was not sure that wasn't the ice melting onto my lap from the apple juice Asher had poured all over me after squeezing and crumpling his styrofoam cup just like some uber muscle man crushing his 8th can of beer. Hey, at least he didn't smash it against his forehead and say "I'm going to pump - you - up!" Anyway, I was OK with this as a one time thing. I did not know the actual number though. Somehow, knowing that number made the difference. I'd have never eaten it. Now, I'm not mad at the restaurant or anything like that. It is not their fault that I ate it. They can have whatever they want on the menu. I just think, as a tool for me, it would be better for my health to have those numbers made clear before I order. My impulse eating tendencies seem to really need the stats made clear to be held at bay.

People have been asking for surrogacy updates. I haven't been giving much because there's not much to give. I had thought the guys were set on changing egg donors however it turns out they decided to wait on some medical testing to make that choice. I do believe there will be a decision made today in that regard. Just on a whim - hey - if you happen to be signed up as an egg donor and not getting your period and are being really vague on all the details - feel free to leave a comment or send me an e-mail… I'd love to know what the heck is going on! Counting 7 weeks out from now we'd have the earliest transfer time to be July 4th although I'm not certain 7 weeks would still be accurate with a new donor. You know, I wasn't going to say anything about this - but my history has been that I've only gotten pregnant in Sept or Oct for all of my living babies. It has all been total coincidence - those have certainly not been the only months that we've tried. Back when the transfer was to be in April or May, I didn't bring it up because it sounded a bit morbid. Now that weird coincidences have brought us closer and closer to those months though, it does seem odd. Still, I'm really really hoping that we're not still trying to get pregnant come those months. This is pregnancy though, which means even with all the medical intervention, we're not in control of much so we'll just have to see what happens.

Yesterday I went for a long walk around the neighborhood as my 'workout'. I don't know how much actual 'work' was involved in it but it was interesting. I checked out all the bank-owned homes in the area. There were 3 of them. Kinda a sad thing to see. Although - 2 of them were never owned by any real people. They had been built along the busy road that connects the businesses to the residential areas near where I live. They were these single family units that looked more like NY row houses. They had garages in the back that were not attached to the house. None of these things sounds very appealing. Noisy, dirty road, lots of stairs in a mostly up and down house, NOT attached and NOT heated garage in MN… what were they thinking??? If I had no kids and never planned on having kids I might have considered it due to being in walking distance of the shops and everything… but if I had no kids and never planned on having kids and wanted to live like that, I'm thinking this particular northern suburb would not be my first choice of living places. Also, I'd never get over the not attached garage. I'm not shocked that the bank seized them from the builders. Poor bank really, because those are never going to sell. Anyway, that was my workout. Tonight I'll be aiming for that pasta dinner and an early night so that I can get up bright and early and drive to the Eagan Fun Run. Wish me luck!!

One last thing - I have to brag a little about my son. Yesterday was the review of Gavin's IEP at school. Everyone had very glowing things to say about Gavin so I'm very happy about that. Now, he still has the same teacher that has, on many occasions, accused me of being a bad parent to Gavin. She has no children and honestly she's kinda a nut job though so in as much as it is possible for a parent to not care about someone saying that to him or her (which is really hardly possible at all) I'm there. Now, all of you Minnesotans reading this may want to look away for a bit as I'm about to be really self praising. I believe that under MANY other people's parenting, Gavin would've had a MUCH different life. I think that the way that I am with him has kept him mostly positive and enthusiastic and trusting of the world when he has had a LOT of hardships to deal with. He has had plenty of reasons to get down on himself, to have little to no self esteem, and to stop trusting adults and authority completely, not to mention no longer trusting himself. When he cannot always control his impulses and he finds himself often doing exactly what he would like himself to NOT be doing and gets into trouble so very very often, how many kids would've internalized that to themselves? Now, I still have a few years left before he is a teen (Of which I am completely aware and grateful for every last second) so those years of angst will undoubtedly bring on their own challenges. All the same, Gavin is still such a bright, charming, enthusiastic, happy boy and I'm so so so happy to see him able to realize that about himself.

May 14, 2008 10:37 A.M. Weight: 160.0 lbs.

This morning, as I was settling into my day at work, I got an e-mail from my husband. Apparently, Jessie declared as she was getting ready to go to daycare today that she is going to be an Ice Cream Truck Lady when she grows up. Since Gavin fluctuates between being an astronaut and a cashier at Target, I'm thinking I may very well be happy to have a nice 401k plan in place when I'm older. I wonder if Ice Cream Truck driving school qualifies for 529 savings payments. Now, if she gets a business management degree and OWNS her own giant Ice Cream Truck empire, well, that's different.

I have to say though, when I was younger my aspirations revolved around owning my own ad agency just like Angela Bower. I even won a contest with Life Cereal for writing a little commercial as a kid… well… 'won' might be a bit strong. They sent me a certificate saying 'nice ad, kid' or something like that. When I got older I wanted to be a lawyer. I wanted to argue the case for justice in the world. Then when I was dating an engineer I wanted to get an engineering degree and since I liked my chemistry classes in high school more than physics I landed on chemical engineer - THEN I'd get that law degree and be an intellectual properties lawyer arguing for justice in the patent world. Ya, I know, I was a little ambitious.

My first year in chemical engineering involved taking an organic chem class. Just in case you don't know - for people who rely mostly on computers to store any memory at all (I think I'd forget how to phone home if it wasn't programmed into my cell), organic chem class can also be called "torture". I couldn't memorize anything. I LITERALLY filled out the little test bubbles on the final exam by just making a pattern that looked aesthetically pleasing to me. (BTW - I got a C in the class.) Thankfully, my first year also included taking a class in Fortran. Fortran is a programming language that cave men used to write code that calculated how long and sharp the flint spearhead had to be on their spears to bring down the largest mammoths. All the same, it was interesting and I was intrigued. I ended up writing all the Fortran code for my fellow ChemE majors in that class while I relied on them to do the actual chemical engineering stuff. Thus, a major change to Computer Science followed.

I was still planning on getting the computer science degree and then the law degree so I didn't really think the type of engineering mattered all that much. By my sophomore year I was being asked to apply for internship jobs and by my senior year I was being given job offers such that 4+ more years in school to get a law degree didn't look very appealing. I was happy enough working as a computer dork and plus, I really wanted to start my family. Now here I am, computer dork extraordinaire. So really, who knows where Jessie's path towards ice cream truck driving dreams will take her. As long as I get free creamsicles when she's in the neighborhood I may not care.

May 13, 2008 10:42 A.M. Weight: 161.0 lbs.

The past few days I have had ample opportunity to consume copious amounts of not-so-healthy foods. I have not particularly avoided much. The motivation to do so has been lacking since I'm not too terribly out of sorts with my 160 weight. Not that I'm a waif or anything but I do have to admit from time to time that you can see my clavicle and my legs look dang good in their bike shorts. Hey - I could be a plus-size model! You know, it has always bugged me that plus sized models wear size 12s which are not, in fact, plus sized. Anyway, it started with Friday night's cookies and bars, went to Saturday's homemade pizza, granola bars, and chips, proceeded to Sunday's Mother's Day lunch at IHOP (blueberry stuffed french toast anyone?), and ended at yesterday's Old Country Buffet dinner with my Mother In Law. Now, really, yesterday I had salad with no dressing and sliced roast turkey and I was pretty well behaved when you don't consider the two desserts I grabbed to share with the kids. I was a little excited about our trip to OCB. It has a reputation for being the gathering place for the local plus-sized people. It makes sense, all you can eat buffet all the time. We like it because the buffet style suits impatient kids well and it also allows them to pick and choose crazy meals like Jessie last night. She had fish sticks, black olives, mushrooms, Jell-O, corn and carrots. No restaurant would put a meal like that on their menu. I was interested in noting that the clientele that particular night was not dominated by severely overweight people. It was also nice to be able to go to the buffet to get plate after plate of stuff for the kids without worrying that people are thinking disgusting thoughts about me and my own weight issues while I bring more and more food back to my table. All the same, by last night I was pretty sure I had overdone it enough. Still, I wouldn't have cared if I hadn't gotten that 161 today at the gym. THAT, friends, means it is time to stop celebrating… whatever… and eat right. Especially because for the run this weekend I'd like to get a good time (IE - anything at all under 50:20 if I just run the 5 miles) so I'm not going to be pushing it hard at the gym this week. I ran 3 miles yesterday, ellipted 30 minutes today, and I will be hitting the elliptical again tomorrow for the final workout before the run.

I hope that you all enjoyed and/or lived through Mother's Day. Back in 2003, the Mother's Day after Anily had died, I recall driving into work and they were talking about it being Mother's Day on the radio. I was still not pregnant again - in fact - I was not even having cycles to TRY to get pregnant yet at that time. There was this contest for who had the worst Mother's Day. Women were calling in describing how their terribly misled husbands were not only failing to plan anything special, but forcing them to interact with their children during what should've been their one day off. It turned into a whine fest of women about how much time they had to spend all day long with their wretched children. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to cry and scream and vomit. I figured though, that I was a shoe-in for the damn contest. *I* spent Mother's Day that year curled up on my bed hugging the teddy bear that was wearing the little outfit Anily had worn in the hospital to my chest sobbing pitifully for my little girl that was buried in a coffin the size of a bassinet - just wishing that my husband would've had the chance to be so unthoughtfull as to force me to actually spend time in the loving presence of my daughter. So I called up and entered myself into the contest and finished it off by saying I cannot believe the radio station would be so crass as to have a "Worst Mother's Day Ever" contest and even consider women who have all their children alive and healthy in the running. Oddly enough, they never aired my phone call. In fact, they stopped airing anything related to the contest at all. They didn't say who won they didn't talk about it they didn't apologize for being dumb or anything. It just vanished right off the airways. I was pissed off. I'm pretty sure I had deserved that spa day package they were giving away. (That was sarcasm, BTW, I don't even remember what the prize was.) Actually, I was a little irritated they didn't publicly apologize but all in all, at least they stopped it.

That was a long time ago. Now I have my hands full, that's for sure! I'll tell you though, I could have 20 kids (just call me Duggar) and I'd still miss Anily. Having other children doesn't change that grief. It does change the part where I worried about ever having more, or ever having a daughter. That's not the same. For my Mother's Day this year, the kids jumped into my bed in the morning and presented me with a necklace. It is a heart with a little opal (Oct birthstone - mine) at the top and 4 little hanging birthstones on the bottom. Ruby for Gavin, Amethyst for Anily, Opal for Jessie, and Emerald for Ash. Then my husband went downstairs to play on the computer and made me take care of the kids all day long. Actually, we all went out to Menards to visit with my Mother In Law who had to work that day and look at the different swing set options. We've been planning on using our tax refund to get a big swing set thing for our backyard. Then we went to IHOP and I ate what I'm pretty sure was a giant frosting and blueberry pie filling stuffed doughnut under the guise of "Stuffed French Toast". Then we went home for an extremely late nap for Asher. At this point I should've gone to the gym but I didn't. Instead, working under the self-righteous concept of it being Mother's Day and I don't have to go to the gym, I pretty much just loitered around the house doing laundry. Hey, what did YOU do this weekend?

About a month or so ago, my husband got me a Magellan GPS for my car. He did this on a whim because he was at Costco and it was on sale and he is like that. This, folks, is why we have separate checking accounts, but I digress. Anyway, this little purchase hardly rates as one of his more… um… exciting ones, and truth be told, if there is anyone on the planet that needs one of these suckers, it is me. I have no sense of direction. I once walked to a park a few blocks away from our house with Gavin when he was about 2 years old. We had just moved here but still - we walked to the park. I was being brave. On the way home, Gavin wanted to make a left turn around the block instead of a right turn and we had plenty of time so I figured, sure, we’ll check the neighborhood out. Um, well, fast forward a few hours and you will find a tired and frustrated me hailing down the nicest looking mommy in a mini-van to give my lost child and I a lift back to our house. I’m pretty sure she thought I was ‘special’ in some way and I’d have to agree. That is precisely how bad my sense of direction is. Honestly, it is a wonder that I manage to get anywhere in a car where the pure speed allows you to get so much MORE lost so much more quickly.

This GPS device talks to me. I talk back. It says things like ‘Make a left turn in 4.5 miles.’ or ‘Stay on the current road in 2.4 miles.’ (Apparently it doesn’t trust me to not spontaneously turn when it hasn’t told me to.) I say things like ‘You better be right this time.’ or ‘Sure, I’ll drive over the invisible bridge.’ See, the problem is that it doesn’t seem to know that the 35W bridge is gone. It also seems to think there is a Wells Fargo bank in the middle of nowhere. There is not. I’ve checked. I’ve checked because when I needed a bank it was ever so handy to have the points of interest button that I could use to ask it where the closest bank is. It routed my drive and told me how long it would take and I followed the instructions. Right into the middle of a run down area with absolutely no bank of any kind. At exactly the time I’m sitting in my car on the street wondering what I’m going to do now my GPS tells me, “You have arrived.” Yes, clearly, I have. Stupid little GPS woman.

Annoying errors aside, I have to admit that I have become dependent on this device. I will tell it when I am going anywhere - even places I know very well how to get to. I do this because it estimates my arrival time which I love. When I’m out biking or running, I find that I miss my robotic GPS companion. I think what I really need is a GPS watch. Then I could use it to set my running routes and it would tell me how far they are and I’d never have to get lost. Mostly though, when I get to the end of a long run, GPS woman would always be there to tell me, “You have arrived.” Now if only I could get a watch for my husband that says “What would your wife say about buying that?”

Weight:158

I have to admit, I was way too self absorbed in the gym this morning. Granted, that is really my time so I don't feel too badly about it but still. A woman that I see frequently in the gym was at the sinks drying her hair when I went up to finish getting ready. We said hi and she said "You've really lost a lot of weight recently, you've been doing a great job." This was very awesome to hear. Especially now when I really have NOT seen a lot of loss and I don't really hear that often. I thanked her and, always the MN woman well trained in proper compliment etiquette, I promptly told her how very wrong she was. "Oh no, recently it seems I have just not gone down at all!" She countered with a brilliant rebuttal "Still, even just maintaining for so long is great." I conceded this point to her and thanked her again. It wasn't until she had left that I realized that I should've returned the compliment to her. She is in GREAT shape. She always has been since I've seen her there but I know that she is very conscious of what she looks like. She said once that she just stopped eating for 3 days to lose weight because her doctor told her it would work. (I know, it sounded bad to me too, but the way she said it didn't sound like she was anorexic although what the hell do I know?) I should've TOLD her that I've always thought she was in great shape. A simple "Oh, I'd return the compliment but you've ALWAYS looked so amazing and slim so I don't think you have anything to lose." would've been nice. But no, like I said, too self absorbed apparently, to think of it while talking to her.

I have completed my 15 miles! Actually, I've run 16 miles on the treadmill this week and yesterday after work I came home early, got the double kid jogging/bike stroller, and jogged/walked to daycare to pick them up and then, of course, back home with them. I don't know how much real running I got in with that. It is SO HARD to run with a stroller! You've got to keep one arm holding onto it and you need to keep it going straight and well anyway, between the extra effort to just push it and the coordination involved in not falling over or running into the curb or potholes or other people while they gape at you for running with an empty giant stroller, it is more work. It was even more work when there were actually children in the stroller after I had gotten to the daycare house to get them. I doubt I had much running under my belt with that one but it DID take me about 30-35 minutes to get to the daycare house vs the 50ish minutes to get back with the kids in tow. Part of that was because I couldn't run on the way back because Gavin had no desire to run and he couldn't ride in the stroller. By the time we got home I was pulling him along. For how fit he seems, that kid needs more endurance! For this next week, I really have to decide if I am going to sign up for that 7 mile run on Sat. I have an appointment at 11, but there is still time to hit the run if I want to. If I do, I don't want to kill myself with 5 mile runs on Monday and Wednesday again. I know I'm all uber and everything, but today my run was hard and I could really feel that I'm ending out a high mile week. There was gasping and heavy breathing and quiet swearing involved (although that was more because the stupid "Team Weight Loss" group was counting out loud while they did jumping jacks and I HATE it when they do that and mess with my breathing rhythm. 1-2-1-2-1-14-2-15-1-2-16-FUCK, SHUT UP!) I'm leaning towards signing up and going ahead and doing it so chances are my runs next week will be minor. I'm thinking a 3 mile on Monday, a 1 mile on Tuesday and a 3 mile on Wednesday. That will give me Thursday and Friday to rest up. That will also still give me a 14 mile week with the 7 on Sat (assuming I don't, in fact DIE on Sat.) so that is decent I think. I don't expect my time to be very amazing or anything on Sat though if I do 7 miles because… 7 miles. In one run. Holy nipple band aids batman.

I have been noticing a problem now that the weather is getting nicer. My clothes don't fit. Almost all of my summer clothes are size 14-1X. I am still trying to build up my savings again after zapping through them very quickly purchasing new wardrobes from last summer and winter. The clothes that don't fit me are really pretty new themselves. I figured that I could just wear them anyway but I've been noticing that when I look at my reflection in the baggy clothes it is easier for me to visualize the bigger me. I know, I know, more whining about this post-traumatic-obesity disorder and all. I've already decided I'm going to have to suck it up and deal with it because I do not have the savings in place to get tons of new stuff now. Eventually, just not now. Hey, as long as they keep my office air conditioned to arctic regulations, I can still just wear my winter stuff anyway.

Weight: 160.0 lbs.

Well, it looks like we are in search of a new egg donor. When I say "we" I really just mean the guys because that's not something I get any say on. (Although, guys, if you want my advice, look for the ones with SMALL head circumferences!!) Oh, and preferably one that has eggs. We have now rounded 70 days with no period for the previous donor and rather than wait it out and wonder what this might mean for a successful harvest quantity/quality, we are looking for a new one. Don't ever let it be said that for two gay guys "all" they have to do for a family is surrogacy, that's for sure! They've had one disappointment/loss after another through this whole thing. I can't wait for them to have a family and to finally be parents after all of this.

With that news coming in last night, AND a production down issue on the floor around 9PM, it turned into a kinda late night. When I say "late" I mean, I went to sleep after the sun went down so it wasn't really that bad. I just was hoping to get to sleep by 9 because I've been so tired with the 10-5 routine lately. Then, this morning I wake up at 4 to hear a child calling me. I figure out it is Jessie because she's had a bad dream. I get her (and change her sheets and pjs because I'm blessed with a houseful of nighttime bladder control rebels) and bring her up to my bed in the hopes of getting about 30 minutes of sleep before the alarm goes off. Jessie keeps m-o-v-i-n-g in the bed and I keep saying "Jessica, for the love of Captain Feather Sword PUH-LEASE just go to sleep." Finally it is about 5 minutes before my alarm will go off and I'm dropping into sleep and my cell phone rings. I run to answer it before it sets off the other child in the crib and it is work again saying that they are still down. (Last night it had turned out that the server people were doing scheduled maintenance only they had neglected to tell our site that it was scheduled.) I'm pissy and tired and up for the day so I jump to with a HUGE case of "What in the hell are you trying to do to my production site" on my shoulder and call the support person in Arizona. Yes, it is 2 hours BEFORE 5AM there. Now, it might be good to point out that what I SHOULD have done was log into my work computer first and VERIFY that the production people were not just making things up. They do that, you know. They come to me and say "We can't work" and when I walk over there and WATCH them do what they say they can't do, they do it just fine. "Well, it didn't work before." riiiiight. But I was pissy and tired and evidently feeling vindictive so I called and woke up the very nice Arizona support person to pass along the news that they were down. She said that she would check on things and while she was doing that, I was logging in to verify that they were, in fact, as down as they said. Low and behold, the app came right up and was working just fine. Hehe, hehe, heh, um, oops. I called the production people and asked them to try it again and "Hey, it's working now, what did you do?!" Um, nothing. The Arizona support person calls me to inform me that everything on her end looks just fine and it all should've been up and running since about sometime last night. Yes, thank you very much everything seems fine sorry to have woken you up. Ah, today is gonna be AWESOME!

Jessie is, of course, totally awake after all of this and I get ready while she says she doesn't want me to go to work. I finally convince her to settle down when I offer to turn on Caillou or Peep for her so I can get, by now LATE, out the door to the gym. I have 5 miles to run this morning before work. At the gym, I try to get my stretching in while sitting on the bench in the locker room before the run. Someone has got her gym bag the size of Texas sitting on the bench. PEOPLE - your BAG can sit on the FLOOR. Please remember this. Your bag LIKES the floor. So after I deliver a precise and powerful ninja kick to send the bag flying over the lockers and land wedged ever so gracefully atop the bathroom stall door, I use the tiny unoccupied corner of the bench to get some stretches in. My run actually goes rather well. Slower than the other times at 51 minutes for the 5 miles but I also didn't feel all drained from it. Then I do an abbreviated stretching routine while walking back to the locker room. Where I weigh in at 160 again. But hey, look, the sun is up and it is a beautiful day for me to drive into work now.

Ah-choo! Oh, sorry, I don't think the fancy drug samples I got from the allergist are working. I'll give them a little while - maybe they need to build up in your system. You know... like nicotine or crack. I've got a giant bag full of little packets with one pill in each packet. You are supposed to take one each night just before going to sleep and they last all day. I woke up this morning sneezy and itchy and yuck. Before I get too far into this, I'd like to point out that I was actually kinda impressed with my visit. It didn't help me much, but it told me what I wanted to know and the allergist seemed very eager to help me out. A little too eager, actually. Have you ever noticed that often, your doctor has a different goal out of your appointment than you do? I have three examples to share.

1) I went to a dermatologist to find out if there was anything I could do (ie laser skin treatments covered by my insurance) to get rid of the red rosacea on my face. It isn't bad but it can be if I get warm or, ya know, drunk. There is nothing better than having a 'This one is sloshed' signal right there on my face. He answered my question right away about the laser treatments - not gonna happen under insurance. He also told me it was probably not going to get a whole lot worse which was my other question. At that point, I was done. Ready to go home and get drunk and read about interesting new ways to serve kid-friendly tofu. My doctor, however, was just getting started. He was handing out sample skin creams and talking about ways to reduce the chances of my face getting redder (something about not drinking) and making a regular set of appointments for me to come in and chat about how well the lotions were working. He was ready to find ways to fix the problem while I was just interested in more information - I was managing to deal with the issue on my own otherwise, thank you very much.

2) I saw a sports medicine doc about my knees hurting from running. I wanted to know if I was permanently damaging them or not. Would they get better if I kept training or would they get worse? He answered that right away. From the X-rays, he could tell me I was not permanently damaging them and that I just needed to build up the muscles around there. Ok, awesome. Thanks doc! But alas, he was just getting started. Braces, taping, lining up therapy sessions... everything. I have to admit, some of it did help. Ultimately though, he was interested in FIXING the problem while I just wanted to know more about it. I could deal with the pain as long as I knew it would get better and not worse.

3) These allergies. I've been living with them for 20 years. Since I was born Since I was in high school. (Fine, I'm not 20.) I was interested in finding out if there was a simple thing that I could do that did not involve taking pills all day long or eye drops. Maybe in those 20 years medical science has found a miracle allergy shot that you take once and are done with allergies for the season. Granted, some quality time with Google would've told me that, but I was going to go through the old fashioned way of talking to the allergist. Turns out, there is no such thing as a one-time shot for the season. Instead, people that are not in the process of becoming surrogates or going through IVF can sign up for a series of weekly, then monthly, then.. I don't know I stopped listening.. shots. I asked if I could give myself the shots because, ya know, I'm now qualified to shoot up with the best of them. She said no because of the risk of anaphylaxis shock. She also said that if you get pregnant, they stop the treatments and the weekly ones have to go for about 6-8 weeks so I'm pretty much SOL for starting that now anyway. That was pretty much it. I was ready to go home. She was ready to have me lay on the exam table and put all sorts of questionable solutions on my back and make little pin pricks to let it seep into my skin. SHE wanted to FIX it. Find the right drug, keep trying different ones, etc. From my perspective, she has done what I went there for. From her perspective, I'm an ongoing client that she will see back some day. Unfortunately, I'm shockingly meek when it comes to making a stand at the spur of the moment so when they had me lay on the bed thing for the allergy tests, I did it. (Also, just so you know, I did NOT hide my very attractive periwinkle blue bra under my shirt on the chair. I hung it on the lamp.)

After the test, I got the sheet of all the things they tested me for. Turns out, I'm allergic to willow, oak, birch, all kinds of grass, ragweed, and all dust of any variety. This is fine - but the things I'm NOT allergic to were quite alarming. Not because I'm not allergic to them, but because WHAT, exactly, did they just expose me to to find out that I'm not allergic to them??? The list of molds included cockroach. Cockroach mold. Let's imagine, for a moment, what one might do to get a solution that you could put on someone's skin and scratch the skin to find out if they are allergic to cockroaches. Hmm. I just have to say, I didn't sign any waivers for this test and I seriously think I should've been asked before they did this. I mean, gross. Oh, and after the test on my back didn't produce any results for a certain small list of things they figured I was actually allergic to, they took a more concentrated solution of that and used very small needles to actually inject it under the skin on my arm. Three of those are now basically very small bug bites and the other 4 did nothing other than make little blood blisters from the needle. They evidently thought my little bug bite ones were nothing and crossed off those items from my allergy list. It was cute when the girl asked me if needles bothered me. I looked at the little things she was using and laughed. Those are needles? LOL!

As of this morning, I am 6 miles into my 15 mile week for running. Not much more to say about it - pretty boring, typical workout. I'm a little irked that I'm still at 160 after a decent day yesterday but oh well.

I found out today finally some more surrogacy information. Since the egg donor is still not cycling, we have at least 7 weeks out before any transfer. That 7 weeks moves out for each day she doesn't get her period. We're now looking at June 24th at the earliest. I have a lot of feelings about how long this has been taking but since I don't believe MY frustrations and irritations can compare to Paul and James's - I'm not going to blog in length about them. It is what it is and I will just keep waiting. This news does mean that I can finally plan the end of May and the birthdays for Asher and Jessie. It also means Gavin won't be in school anymore when I go for the transfer so that might make childcare easier. Oh, one more thing... when I asked the allergist about the shots and doing IVF, well, in the course of the conversation she said a number of stupid things to me. Well, probably stupid is the wrong word. I just didn't appreciate them although I know she was just trying to be nice. Because I knew that, I just smiled politely. She commented on how darn many kids I have and that always makes me want to say that I REALLY have 4 kids. She said something about how I have 3 kids so I must just be such a star at pregnancy and never had a problem to go and do it for someone else. Um, where do I start? She also asked if I knew the people I was being a surrogate for or if it was a 'womb for rent' (yes, she ACTUALLY said that.) Being more offended than I've been in a long time I just said I knew the people. She said 'Oh, that's good.' Ha, small talk... isn't it fun? Had I been feeling snarkier I'd have said "No, I don't know them but I've always had a fantasy of getting knocked up by two gay guys." Alas, I was too busy trying to unhook my bra off the drop ceiling frame where I had tossed it after the allergy test.