What a difference a trimester makes!!!

Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty...I am free at last!!! It has been a long 9 weeks my friends...and I can't believe I have been able to keep my big fat mouth shut for this long but now I am shouting it from the roof tops...

"I'M KNOCKED UP!!!"

I'm such a dainty, proper little lady aren't I? Let's see how else could I put it...:

"In the family way"
"With child"
"Expecting"
"Have a bun in the oven"
"Preggo"
"The rabbit died" (which by the way I don't get...and I'm not sure I want to). Anywhoooo....

But yes...I am pregnant and I am over the moon. We did not share the news with anyone until I was 12 weeks along as we wanted to make sure that things were progressing normally...so conveniently the 12 week mark hit right around Mother's Day and we were able to give my Mom a pretty big surprise. I had been avoiding talking to my Mom for a little over a week as it had become very difficult to talk with her and not mention the elephant in my uterus the room.

So needless to say my Mama was glad that the prolonged silence was not me going all Tori Spelling on her, but rather that it is difficult for me to lie to her face (it was quite a bit easier at 17...but now the guilt is not worth it...so I just avoid her :)

Another funny tid bit is that after all of my preparation and planning, research and reading...we never even needed to use the fertility plan Dr. Le was putting into place for us. In fact when we went to the appointment to meet with Dr. Le...I was already pregnant...I just didn't know yet. I know Channing is really disappointed that I can't write ad nauseum about the sperm meets egg plan on my blog now. He really wanted to kill me enjoyed me sharing all of those details in this public forum. Sorry honey...maybe you can start your own blog where you can keep people updated on your sperm...YAY!!!

So I just wanted to update you all on why I have been MIA for a while...it's because I am nauseous, exhausted, bloated, gassy, constipated, acne faced just soaking in all the joys of pregnancy...but I'm back now and will keep you all updated over the next 28 weeks on this little miracle growing inside of me!!!

Pruned

My parents are "garden nerds" ...I use this term with affection and they know it. Here are some pictures of their garden in their back yard:


It really is a magical place from about May through September. You know in the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy walks out of the house after the cyclone has dropped it in Oz and she opens the door and the whole world turns from black and white to technicolor in an instant? That is what it feels like to walk onto my parents back patio... the Oz of Omaha!!!

What I forget sometimes though is it takes a lot of "black and white" time to get to that Oz like state. For half of the year...it's pretty bleak back there:

(and this pic was taken in March...just imagine what January looks like!!!).

I can't say for sure, because I have never asked him directly, but I have to imagine it is painful for my step-dad to cut down his gardens in the Fall. Each flower, each stem was nurtured by him for months while it grew. Some plants he even grows in pots indoors during the winter so that they are strong and hearty when Spring arrives and are up to the challenge of existing out in the soil for all to admire. He prepares them for the cruel world and the challenges Mother Nature has in store as best he can. But though he knows it is necessary for a hearty healthy harvest next season...I am sure it is painful to prune them all down to nothing.

I have been thinking about those gardens a lot lately. I read a passage today that made me think that the love and care that my dad gives to his gardens, and the pain he feels when it comes time to cut them away, to prune them, in preparation for the coming year, are how God feels as he tends to us...His children...His garden. Here is the passage:

"Pruning means cutting, reshaping, removing what diminishes vitality. When we look at a pruned vineyard, we can hardly believe it will bear fruit. But when the harvest comes, we realize that the pruning allowed the vines to concentrate their energy and produce more grapes. Grateful people learn to celebrate even amid life's hard and harrowing memories because they know that pruning is no mere punishment, but preparation.

When our gratitude for the past is only partial, our hope for the future can likewise never be full. But our submitting to God's pruning work will not ultimately leave us sad, but hopeful for what can happen in us and through us. Harvest time will bring its own blessings..."
Turn My Mourning Into Dancing by Henri Nouwen

How many times in my life has something been taken from me where I felt as if God was punishing me? Many times...maybe "every" time.

God...it's not fair...

Why?

It doesn't make any sense

What good can possibly come from taking _________________ from me?

Y'all (yes it's happening...I'm becoming one of those people who get transplanted into Texas and start saying y'all...deal with it)... we're being pruned. He is not punishing us...but rather preparing us. Isn't that an incredibly amazing and painful way that God shows us His love? Now don't get me wrong...most times I would prefer God to show me how much He loves me by giving me a big ole bag of cotton candy and a new pair of shoes...good thing I don't make those kinds of eternal decisions, as I would be an overgrown thistle patch by now!!!

But y'all (again...deal) I have been pruned...and it has hurt...it has been some of the most unendurable pain I could have never imagined...on that cold December day when I watched as they lowered my best friend's body into the cold hard ground and I fell to my knees in grief and sobbed in my mother's arms...God was pruning me...preparing me...loving me.

And you know what...I am grateful. How crazy does that sound? It sounds crazy to me and I am typing this...but I AM GRATEFUL. He chose me to love her, He chose me to be her best friend, He chose me to share things with her that no one else got to share, He chose me to make her smile when she was suffering, He chose me to speak at her memorial, He chose me to mourn her...and He chose to prepare ME for a life lived without her. He loves me this much...to prepare me...to prune me...and I am grateful.

I am pruned and prepared and am ready for the harvest....

Holy inappropriateness Batman!!!

Dear Mattel -

Let me start by saying I am a long time fan of the Barbie product line. I had the Barbie townhouse, Barbie hot tub, Barbie Corvette, Barbie McDonald's, and an entire sorority of Barbie dolls. My best friend Johna and I played with Barbie's far past the appropriate age threshold...I think we were wearing bras and playing with Barbies. So please do not mistake this as me being a Hater...as I am a true fan of Miss B.

However, your newly marketed "Little Red Riding Hood" (LRRH) Barbie has caused me a bit of confusion and I would appreciate some clarification on the following issues:

1. What age group is this Fairy Tale trollop being marketed too? Instead of Target or Toys R' Us perhaps Dr. John's or Pricilla's would be a better vendor for this particular doll.

2. Was it the toy designers intent to have the wolf ogling LRRH's bosom? If so, has this particular designer had the appropriate sex offender background screening?

3. At what point did thigh high fishnets, booty skirts and stilettos become appropriate attire for a visit to grandma's house?

4. Lastly, speaking of grandma, after seeing your "vision" for LRRH is there a possibility that in the actual story "grandma" was code for "Heidi Fleiss?"

I know you are probably extremely busy configuring the stripper pole to be packaged in with Little "HO" Beep...but any response to the aforementioned questions would be greatly appreciated.

Kindest Regards,
Steph Doss

E = MC²

For all of you physics junkies out there...the picture posted above is not a road map to create a nuclear bomb. But rather a road map to conception...apparently this illustrates how you make a baby in 2009. I'll give you a moment to recover....

Seriously...? What happened to the good ole days where all you needed was a slow gin fizz and a backseat on prom night to get knocked up? This chart is a constant reminder to me of all the money I wasted on birth control pills.

Ok...so on to the point of this post. Channing and I met with the reproductive endocrinologist last Thursday ( RE for those of us in the infertility biz). His name is Dr. Le and he is an awesome guy. We met with him for about 30 minutes and came out of his office with a plan and a blue print for baby makin'. I told Dr. Le that I am a very decisive individual, and that I didn't want to be lollygaggin' around for 6 months with a little something here, and a little something there. I am ready for battle Dr. Le!!! Dr. Le looked at both of us and shook his head no, he then said, "Oh no...I am veddy, veddy agglessive Mrs. Doss....vedddddy agglessive when it comes to having baby." I loved to hear this as a dose of "veddy agglessive" is exactly what I was hoping to receive!!! So here is our plan for our next cycle trying to conceive (TTC in the biz).

Cycle day 3 - Go in for blood work to check my FSH levels and get an ultrasound to check my ovarian follicles. (FSH to your ovaries is like gas to a car's engine...the more FSH you produce to ovulate means that you have to really rev those ovaries up just to get an egg. This is not a good sign, and means that your ovarian reserve is low). So we are hoping for another low number. My FSH from a few weeks back was 6.2 which is great...but the numbers can change quickly.

Cycle day 5-9 - Take 100mg Clomid. Clomid is a fertility drug that puts your ovaries into overdrive and is supposed to cause a very strong and healthy ovulation. Kind of like steroids for eggs.

Cycle Day 8 - HSG (even I don't know what this stands for and I'm in the biz). This is a test to make sure that your uterus and fallopian tubes are not blocked and that the egg is getting where it needs to be to meet her 90 million suitors :) Think of a dye test for the heart when they are checking for blockages...just a little lower!!!

Cycle day 10 or 11 - Check FSH again. Dr. Le explained it like this. When someone wants to check out the health of their heart...the Dr. doesn't give them a diagnosis when they are sitting reading the newspaper. Rather the patient endures a stress test...where the heart is pushed to the limit, and if things look good after that, then your heart can be considered healthy. Same thing with the ovaries. The 5 days of Clomid would be considered the stress test here, and if my FSH levels are still low...we know then that I have a good reserve of eggs left.

Cycle Day 13 - Another ultrasound to make sure I am getting ready to ovulate, and then a trigger shot of HcG (the pregnancy hormone) to make the egg "pop" (I'm not a fan of that term...makes me think of my reproductive organs like Rice Krispies...snap, crackle...POP!!!).

Cycle Day 14 - IUI. This is the day Channing finally gets called into battle. IUI is the new term used for artificial insemination. Basically the shot of HcG I recieve on day 13 will casue me to ovulate within 36-48 hours. Then Channing recruits his boys and takes them to the clinic in this:

I like to call this...the "Lil' Bag-O-Sperm"...Channing however does not like me to call it that, or call it anything. In fact I am pretty sure he is not thrilled I have posted this "sperm suitcase" at all...where I then throw in my 1st amendment right, and he tunes me out and plays his fantasy basketball.

So...Channing takes his "sperm suitcase" to the clinic in the morning, they do a sperm wash (which eliminates all of the dead or unhealthy sperm) and then I go in later that afternoon to have it inseminated. It really isn't a big deal they just use a catheter and put the sperm where they need to be to meet that egg...and then we cross our fingers that God takes over from there!!!

More than you ever wanted to know about me isn't it? I know...me too. But this is the season of my life right now and I am taking the bull by the horns. "Watch out bull...I am veddy, veddy aglessive!!!"

We are excited but nervous. We agreed to do 3 IUI's and may then consider 1 IVF (In Vitro fertilization) and if we don't get preggo after those 3 or 4 attempts we are off to adopt.

Pray for us...and Dr. Le.

Love ya,
Steph

Memory lane...kind of like walking on hot coals if you ask me

Wow...can't believe I just posted those. Can anyone say awkward stage? I'm just putting it out there...adolescence is not a cute look. Especially when your mom thinks it would be a good idea for you to cut all of your hair off and get a perm in the 5th grade. Just kick the chubby, obnoxious, pre-pubescent kid while she's down why don't you!!! The years between 1986 and 1990 would not be considered my "glory days"...it's cool, I'm over it...made my peace with my white girl jerry curl.

I share this humiliation for a good cause. I think I need an intervention or something...maybe a straight jacket. I at a bare minimum need your prayer. When Channing and I went through our membership class to officially join our church we were asked to indicate which of the ministries we would like to volunteer for. I perused the available options...elder care - No, Hospitality - No, Greeter - NO (makes me have flashbacks of the creepy greeter at the church I was raised in. And to add insult to the creepiness his name was Arnot Cumm...ewwwww), Choir - tempting, but No. Then I came to the youth ministry section. Thought about it for a minute...and checked the boxes. Yes, not only didI say I would volunteer for the Sr. High youth...but also the Jr. High youth. WHAT??? Yeah....not sure what kind of high Jesus had me on that day but they may need to check those wafers and grape juice for intoxicants...I'm just sayin'.

So I hadn't heard anything about it for a few weeks (and I must say I wasn't causing their phone to ring off the hook either). but then about a week ago the fateful call came. They wanted me to come in for an interview on Wednesday, March 4th at 9:00pm after the Youth Ministry service was finished. The woman I spoke with on the phone was very energetic and she told me she could just tell that she was going to love me and that I was going to be perfect for their Youth (ears can be very deceiving ma'am...think about how nice telemarketers sound). Channing just sat on the couch with an undetectable grin that only I can see when he is laughing at me. He signed up for umm the Football ministry, or the BBQ ministry...bringing glory to the Lord through ribs I guess :)

Anyway, this is a plea people. I need prayer...it has been a while since I was surrounded by teenagers. I was a Campus Life leader in my early 20's but if you have read my post about my eggs...you know that age sneaks up quickly, and it steals your patience for things like shrieking 13 year old girls, and a pack of boys that smell like wet dogs and onions!!! Look at the pictures above...you want to know why barely any of those girls are smiling? Because they had even annoyed themselves by that point!!! As an aside, the pictures where we are all wearing those stylish caps were taken at Camp Kitaki. I believe they were encouraged as a tick repellent device...or in my case a bad perm alternative.

Oh Lord, give me a servant's heart. And if You should call me to serve You with these youth could you please keep the shrieking and BO to a minimum? Amen.

My friends, all prayers and Xanex are welcome :)

Top 10 percentile...FINALLY!!!

I lived 3 full years of my life with a ranking tied around my neck like an albatross (let me pause and tell you that I recently learned that the term albatross round your neck is a statement taken from biblical times where those that were found guilty of murder had the victims of their crime chained to their bodies and the murderer had to witness the corpse rotting as a part of their punishment...yikes!!! Pharaoh was no joke!!!). I digress...shocker.

OK...so while in law school we were ranked. Every semester we got our new ranking as our grades were posted. It sucked...big time. I hated that index card in the sealed envelope with my name typed so neatly on the label. It was my make or break moment all neatly fit onto 3" x 5". I thought it was such a BIG deal...it wasn't, well not for me at least. For those 15-18 students that made up the top 10 percent, it was a big deal. For the remaining 162 of us...not so much. Anything under 10% were pretty much equally ranked once I got a taste of the real world...all that quivering at Pinky's desk for nothing!!!

I have coveted that top 10 percent for years now, and yesterday I received word that I finally made the grade. Channing and I are in our, "casting a wide net" season right now. We are looking at all of the options available for us to have a child and we are seeking out each and every one of them. We figure God has our baby, and it is our job to go out and find that little bundle. So we have an appointment with a fertility specialist on Thursday the 5th (Dr. Le), we are actively trying on our own, and we have submitted our application to an adoption agency. I submitted it last Wednesday and I got an email yesterday that we were pre-approved!!! YAY!!!!

I was thrilled that we were looked upon kindly by the committee, but I was even more shocked when I learned that this specific adoption center has over 200 applications per month from prospective adoptive parents and they only accept between 10 to 15. WHAT???? Do the math people...that means Channing and I are in the 5 - 7.5 percentile!!!! How you like them apples Pinky???

We don't know if adoption is what God has for us right now, but we are pretty sure at some point (even if we are blessed with a biological child) that we also want to adopt. I have been researching for a little while now, after hearing Hugh Jackman speak about his bi-racial adoption on the Barbara Walters special prior to the Oscars. Did you know that there are bi-racial/African American children turned away every month because there are not enough families to willing to adopt a child that is black or part black? Most agencies give adoptive families who are willing to adopt bi-racial or AA children a discounted rate (up to as much as $10,000 off of their normal fee) to adopt these precious children. Do you know how sick to my stomach that makes me? That any child would be "discounted" just so a family would be more willing to accept them. It hits especially close to home as our child (God willing) will be bi-racial. And that is seen as less than desirable...horrifying to me.

So we are open, and willing and patiently waiting for God to define our path. I may send Him a memo that we are in the top 10 percent...can't hurt right?

And how would you like your eggs?

When I was young my Mom and I would go to Village Inn (picture an IHOP with better food) quite frequently. We would both order the VIB (Village Inn Breakfast) for you VI virgins. You know that part when you're ordering eggs from a restaurant and the waitress says, "and how would you like your eggs sugar?" (apparently our VI hired Flo from Alice). Anyway, I would order scrambled or over easy, sometimes I would spice it up a bit and order poached. Well I am changing my order from now on...I would like my eggs YOUNG!!!

I am getting a very interesting education in a woman's reproductive evolution. It's not looking good folks. These eggs are gearing up for an early retirement and I am trying to sweeten the pot with benefits and a big fat raise!!! Apparently, although society has progressed and women are now pushing off having children until they are...I don't know...READY!!! Mother Nature has not signed on to this new plan. She is still of the mindset that good, viable, healthy eggs are meant for the young...and when I say young, I mean really young...like "Mom where's my cheer leading uniform" young. Or, "oops I am hungover from my bar crawl and missed my 8:00am class" young. Bottom line here is...Mother Nature should be sued for age discrimination...and throw in some gender discrimination while your at it.

I mean seriously...can the 34 year old chic catch a break? I have tried to do the right things in my life. Rebounded back from some ridiculous choices I made in my early 20's...like say marrying a loser who wanted to spread his seed all over tar nation. I did not allow that loser seed to be planted into my young naive eggs. I picked my eggs up and moved them on to higher ground. Got my eggs a good education. Took my eggs to Ireland to study abroad. My eggs passed the bar. Then my eggs found a pretty awesome man who was not a loser, and had no interest in conquering all of tar nation. My eggs fell in love, got engaged, got a great job, with a great paycheck, and AMAZING insurance, got married, and after all of that responsible choice making, and goal attainment my eggs should have been ready to fulfill their destiny right? Wrong. Now I hear from the internet(s) that my eggs may be tuckered out from all of this self betterment I have been engaging in.

Is there microderm abrasion for eggs? I'm just sayin...