How to Love Thy Brother

1) Let him visit, dressed in nothing but a beige prison jumpsuit and black combat boots, because nothing else fits his 6'6", 400-lb frame, and take him and his unshowered body and his shaved head out to a Midwestern family restaurant with your elderly dad and your little girl, and refuse to feel embarrassed when everyone stares at you -- indeed, allow yourself to feel amused and a little proud in an I-am-in-a-David-Lynch-film-what's-your-excuse sort of way -- and treat him to breakfast.

2) Give in to his heartfelt "Please" and allow him to have one more glass of whiskey the night before when it's clear that half a bottle won't be enough to put him to sleep. Resolve to save the intervention for later.

3) Let him hold and play with your baby daughter, and feel grateful that all he does is laugh when she pokes him in the face.

4) After he returns home, let him call you at 6:00am, drunk after an all-night bender (his, not yours), and offer encouragement that he is not stupid, that his life is valuable, that he is immensely talented, and that better times are definitely coming. Repeat weekly for a period of six months.

5) Forgive him for being the monster under the bed of your childhood, and recognize that in spite of all the parental attention he commanded, you ended up the lucky one.

IVF: Let the Fun Begin

So, last month I did this IUI cycle with Bravelle, which produced 2 follicles. Last Wednesday I found out I was pregnant, and could not believe it. So easy? Alas, no. Over the weekend, with G away and Mini-Wheat sick, I developed very suddenly some pretty severe flu symptoms including fever (103) and aches that felt as though my joints were filled with ground glass. I lamented getting the flu on the perfume board I frequent and was quickly corrected by a couple of cranks who informed me that I couldn't possibly have the flu, because the flu is too severe to allow an upright posture such as that needed to type on a keyboard. What these don't-quit-your-day-job medical intuitives didn't know was that I was also in the early stages of a miscarriage, and received confirmation of same from my docs that afternoon. So it was a weekend of hurry up and wait, and my miscarriage (really, a late period -- I wouldn't insult anyone who's gone through an advanced-stage miscarriage by claiming my experience is anything like theirs) started up on Sunday night. And really, it was just like a late period, but still: I'm sad.

So! Here we are, with a damned rotten cold, waiting to start our first, and we hope only, IVF cycle. Tonight I start the birth control pills. After 3 weeks or so, I start the fertility drugs. They're putting me on their most aggressive protocol. I'm nervous as hell about it, which is why I feel the need to document the experience here. I don't intend to turn this into a fertility blog, but some experiences you just have to share. I feel the need for witnesses, and for some kind of documentation so in the future, if I'm tempted to try it again, I can look back and decide if it's really wise given my subjective experience with the whole process.

The best part of the whole thing? I left the pharmacy with three bags filled with drugs. Those bags you see in the picture? They're the size of grocery bags. One woman in the pharmacy waiting area gaped at me on the way out. I told her, "This is what you need to make a baby the artificial way. If I were doing it the old-fashioned way, these bags would be filled with candles, CDs, and wine."