Top of the mornin'

This morning at approximately 5:42 a.m. this was the scene at Maison Piglet:

Mr. K: (getting ready in our bathroom)

Me: (groggy, turn over to try and sleep a little longer, throw leg over comforter because am suddenly sweltering and then...) Ahhhhhhhh! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Oh-my-gawd! Owwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!

Mr. K: (comes running) What?! What?! What's wrong?!!!!

Me: (thrashing around, yelling like wildebeast) Mah...mah...mah...llllllllegggggg! Crrrrraammmmmp!!! OMG! OMG! Ow! Ow! Ow!

Mr. K: Which leg? Where?! Do you need a wooden spoon to bite?!

Me: (slamming leg into comforter whilst continuing to thrash like rabid animal)

Mr. K: (pins down leg, rubs calf) Better?

Me: (after approximately 60 seconds) What the hell was that?! I think I stopped breathing momentarily.

I love, love, love Les Twinks, but boy are they wreaking havoc on my poor little body. If you have any crazy remedies for leg cramps (Katell, I remember your bar of soap in the sheets one), please for the love of Jude, pass them along!

Just added to my list of To Dos? Wooden spoon on bedside table.

Really? Me?

Even though I've seen the ultrasounds, heard their heartbeats, felt all the increased pregnancy symptoms, I still cannot believe I am pregnant with twins.  I am dubious.

Identical twins even?  

Really?  

WHAT? 

Dude.  

Duuuuuuuude.

I am infertile.  IN-FER-TILE.  

And pretty profoundly so.  

I have gimpy, cyst-ridden ovaries that don't make the best eggs or embryos. 

In fact, I should've lost lefty during surgery #3 but my RE somehow convinced my OB to let me keep it, just in case.

My embryos don't make it to day five in the lab so my RE's practice has to make an exception and transfer me on less optimal day three.

None of my left over embryos make it to freeze.  Twice this happened.

And somehow, someway, my just fair quality embryo found it within itself to SPLIT?  

And create TWO babies with TWO beating hearts?  

And then IMPLANT? (It could have also been the reverse, implant and then split, but we'll never know.)

And they are still ALIVE?

WHAT?!  

Seriously.  WHAT is going on here?

The other night on my new favorite show G.lee, one of the characters was told by her OB that she was having a "hysterical pregnancy" which apparently means that you want to be pregnant so badly you have classic, but psychosomatic pregnancy symptoms. 

Even with the ultrasound pictures IN MY HAND, I thought to myself: could that be me?  

I am ridiculous. 

I keep looking for the "Kick Me, I'm Infertile" sign on my back, but it must have fallen off.  

RIP: Appetite 8/5/09 - 8/20/09

I am sorry to say it, but my appetite of mythical proportions has disappeared.  Now in its place lies only a bounty of indecision and answers like "nothing sounds good" or "Eew. No, definitely not that." Come now, where's the fun in THAT?  It's not nearly as entertaining as having a bowl of cappellini with pomodoro sauce at 9:00 a.m. chased by three waffles, is it?  I should say NOT.

For the past five days I have hovered between the "I'm going to hurl right now" place and the "I *think* I'm going to hurl right now" place.  It is terrible.  While I didn't have a huge appetite while pregnant with Piglet, I didn't have terrible morning sickness either.  Certainly not like this and certainly not this early in the game.  

Infertiles - forgive me for this complaining.  I know it is all a blessing and there were days and nights I prayed for morning sickness and fatigue and any and everything that would bring me a baby.  I'm just struggling a little today.  Okay.  A lot. 

Perhaps the worst part of this is that I dearly love preparing food and eating food and I cannot seem to feel well enough to do either with gusto. Scratch that, I cannot manage to do either AT ALL.  

Today I ate three C.lif Mojo Bars to increase my protein intake because the thought of any other type of protein sounded just plain unpalatable.  And I had to CHOKE. THEM. DOWN.  Many friends have piped up with the suggestion of Z.ofran.  I am considering it as it is a B Class d.rug and apparently very safe and used widely.  

After all this doom and gloom about food, I think I should end on a high note, don't you agree?  My appetite and desire for cherry I.cees remains intact!  Hallelujah.  

If you can't find it, that's because I ate it.

If you set down something tasty on my countertop between the hours of 11 a.m. and 9:00 p.m. and leave for a few minutes, chances are you will come back to an empty plate.  Before and after that, you're safe. 

I don't know what the deal is this time because early in my pregnancy with Piglet, food was a very strange thing for me.  I didn't want to eat anything, I knew I needed to eat, but nothing sounded appealing.  Nothing sounded particularly horrible, but nothing was appetizing either.  If I had had my druthers, I would've skipped food altogether, except then the waves of nausea would come here and there, reminding me I needed to eat. When I was about 11 or 12 weeks, I started eat a lot of nectarines, peaches and Honey Nut Cheerios.  That I remember very clearly! 

This time though, oh my goodness, I can't face food too early, but come lunch time, I am ravenous.  I can and will eat you under the table.  Then the rest of the day it's nibbling here and there - fruit leather, cheese, toast, yogurt, strudel, a banana - it's an all afternoon munch fest.  I take a little break around 3:00 but by 6:00 I want start making out with the fridge again.  

It's very clear.  If I want to eat, I *really* want to eat.  If I don't, I definitely don't. They say that every pregnancy is different and I must say, I agree.  Now you'll have to excuse me as Mr. K brought me an eclair and it is in fact, not quite 9:00 yet.