Name Dropping

It’s not just us common folk that have trouble multiplying… famous people have fertility challenges, too.

Some have success with IVF, such as: Courtney Cox and David Arquette, Christie Brinkley, Marcia Cross, Jennifer Lopez (rumored), Celine Dion, Brooke Shields, Julia Roberts and Danny Moder, The Dixie Chicks (Martie Maguire and Emily Robison), Jane Seymour, David Beckham and Victoria Spice, Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban, and Gillian Anderson.

Other stars, like Angela Bassett, Kelsey Grammer, Diedre Hall, and Katy Sagal chose to use a surrogate.

Adoption was the option for Jamie Lee Curtis, Hugh Jackman, Sharon Stone, Sheryl Crow, Mary Louise Parker, Diane Keaton, and Kirstie Alley.

Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton went through several failed attempts at IVF, but conceived naturally later.

Studies show that celebrity fertility issues are, in fact, more common than the names they pick out for their children. Studies conducted by me, that is…

To Stress or Not To Stress

Two extremely polar views exist about stress and fertility. Most experts claim that stress can negatively impact fertility, especially stress that comes from not getting pregnant. Studies at Harvard University have shown that women who undergo stress-relieving therapies before fertilization have a greater chance of conceiving. Doctors in New Jersey used leg and foot massages on women as experimental treatment before embryos were transferred and noted some measure of success. Personally, I find this a totally awesome and reasonable reason to request a foot massage from Eric (who, by the way, also gives a mean pedicure).

Another school of thought exists among astrologists who believe that lunar phases can impact fertility. According to this theory, the moon can trigger a woman to ovulate twice during her menstrual cycle. They claim that stress and sexual activity can increase this possibility. Each person’s lunar cycle is dependent on the phase of the moon on the day they were born. For a mere $49.99 one can order her own Personal Lunar Fertility Guide, available in only two business days!

Although I’ve never been gaga over astrology (with the exception of checking my horoscope in the back of Teen magazine during my formative years), I do like the idea that stress can trigger double ovulation, allowing me to lay two eggs in one month. You see, stress is my friend. We go way back. We spend most of our time together during the months of August through May (can you guess my profession?), but he frequently pops in for a visit during the summer months, too.

For now, I think I’ll save my $49.99 for something else. Perhaps some organic veggies, another OV Watch sensor, half a pair of shoes, or a quarter of a pair of jeans… or maybe a damn good foot massage.

Good to Great

I mentioned in a former post that after my one experience with the fertility doctor in Georgia I never went back. Well, my better half did return for a semen analysis (you know, to check the old baby batter). A week or so after the test, they called him to give results. The verdict? “Good but not great.” Being the typical caveman that he is, he let that ride without further question. For a while, I did too. When I started blogging about our fertility ventures, however, I became increasingly curious and asked him to get the Semen Analysis Report so my investigative reporter alter ego could Google every aspect and get a more specific prognosis (if you want it done right…).

In order to get the report, he had to call the fertility doctor’s office and get a release form faxed to him, complete it and fax it back, and they faxed him the report. Unfortunately, after he faxed the release back, he was called out to work on the flight line, far, far, away from the fax machine. Whilst he was working away, his report came in without a cover sheet. The title, “SEMEN ANALYSIS REPORT” flashed across the top of the page, bolded in all capital letters. His name was further down, across from the heading, “Collection Method: Masturbation.” One of his female superiors politely rescued it off the fax machine (probably after some other cavemen got a few chuckles out of it), placed it in an envelope and scribbled a reassuring note across the front (something to the effect of “This looked like personal medical information, so I put it in an envelope. P.S. I didn’t read it”).

I have to say he was an awesome sport about the whole thing! I think if it were me I would still be avoiding eye contact with that person. I guess that makes my caveman a little more mature than me. Hmmm… go figure.

The report basically analyzes several main aspects of the semen: general characteristics (such as color, volume, viscosity, odor (!) and round cells), motility, morphology and viability. According to the key, or reference range, provided on the test all of his numbers fall into the normal ranges, with the exception of morphology. Out of 100 sperm, 6% were of normal morphology (it appears the other 94 either had too many Krispy Kremes or need to work on increasing their vocabularies). This sounds like a low percentage, but it really isn’t too far off. The normal range is above 14%, and between 4% and 14% is “good prognosis/ sub-fertile.” Thus, the genius doctor’s categorization of “good, but not great.”

The test was “administered” last October, and according to my book on natural conception, people fluctuate between periods of fertility and sub-fertility. Hopefully the warm, summer weather will get those little tadpoles back in action. Now, if we can both align our fertile periods, we’ll be good (but not great) to go!

Off the Wagon

Okay, it’s confession time. I have totally toppled off the fertility wagon! Not only have I forgotten to wear my Ov Watch on four occasions, take my prenatal vitamin on three occasions and drink my fertility herbs on five plus occasions, but traveling and the fourth of July holiday have also eff-bombed up our fertility diet.

My sweet momma bought a ton of organic fruits and veggies for us (she really wants some grandkids), but traveling back and forth to the hospital in Shreveport to stay with my cousin has made it hard to find time to eat them (Refined Carbs 1, Fertility 0). Plus, I had a couple of cups of coffee on Saturday at Cracker Barrel. The chaos of the last week has blitzkrieged Operation Fertilization to smithereens! Although I suppose it’s not a total loss because we haven’t smoked, drank or taken illicit drugs (or eaten sushi). Yay us.

Before we get the big “FAIL” stamp, I have to put this in perspective, as it was only one week shot to hell. And, we did manage to maintain the baby dance schedule during peak hours, which is probably the most important aspect. In hindsight, I probably should have realized that vacations and strict fertility diet plans don’t mix.

Now that I’ve gotten this off my chest, I feel much better. With about ten more days of vacation, I intend to cowgirl up on the vitamins and herbs. The diet may be postponed until our return to Chucktown (picture Eric jumping up and down, brownies in hand, as I write this).

And Venus Was Her Name

Bananarama crooned about a “goddess on a mountain top,” but I’m pretty sure that Venus of Willendorf was not what they had in mind when writing these lyrics. This 26,000 year old (that makes her about 25,966 years older than me) figurine of a voluptuous (aka “curvy” on match.com), nude female with exaggerated genitals from the Paleolithic era is small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. Discovered in Austria in 1908 by archeologist Josef Szombathy, this statuette is considered an icon of prehistoric artwork.

Many people speculate that her gargantuan jugs, expansive belly and magnified vajayjay lend to the theory that she was created as a symbol of fertility and womanhood. Interestingly enough, she has no face, but very intricately designed hair that coils from the top of her head downward. This faceless representation reveals that she is more an emblem of the fascination with the female body, rather than a sculpture of some caveman’s girlfriend.

Hopefully this is no predictor of impending changes due to pregnancy weight gain; because it appears the Venus is in serious need of a mommy-makeover. Just looking at her makes my boobs ache. Lucky for me, Eric has already agreed (after some arm twisting) to procure a personal trainer for me for at least 3 months after we have a baby. I’m thinking of adding a clause to double the length of time in the case of twins.

As for Ms. Wilendorf, she may not make the cover of Vanity Fair, but she is definitely present in numerous art history textbooks. She’s got it! Yeah, baby, she’s got it!

Too Tired. To Write. Till Tomorrow.

You may have noticed that I recently skipped a few postings. Between driving a thousand miles, keeping vigil at the hospital as my orneriest cousin recovers from a terrible car accident, and squeezing in the “deed”, I have been too exhausted. To form complete sentences. But I. Intend to try harder. From here on out!

Fertility Rocks!

In my quest to learn about everything fertility, I came across an article about a fertility bracelet worn by Jacqueline on The Real Housewives of New Jersey. I’ve never experienced the pure pleasure of actually watching the show, but the article revealed that this particular housewife got pregnant after wearing the bracelet, so I decided to research fertility gemstones and make my own.

Several websites claim that certain natural gemstones such as carnelian, moonstone, and coral contain minerals that can affect the body and enhance fertility. Others claim that particular gemstones and crystals can influence the chakras, thus improving reproductive energy. This sounds a little hokey to me, but I figure it’s worth a shot. Plus, the last time I made jewelry was in elementary school when friendship pins and braided string friendship bracelets were “like, totally gnarly, dude,” so I thought I’d give it a try.

First, I found a bead store on the peninsula called Beads on Cannon. It would have been more aptly named Beads in Da Hood, Beads Behind Metal Bars, or Beads: Don’t Come Here Unless You’re Packing a Cannon, because it was in a rough part of town (emphasis on the rough)! No eye contact was made as I scurried from my car; past shady characters camped out on their porches and abandoned buildings muraled with gang tags.

As I opened the barred doors to enter the store, the old adage, “Don’t judge a book by its cover” circled in my mind (remaining there until I finished shopping and began wishing one of the clerks had volunteered to escort me to my car (as I wondered if my rims and wheels were still intact (luckily they were, as apparently they are not “spinny” enough for this crowd))).

Inside the safe haven of the store were beads galore-- two stories of wall to wall bead strands, with hip, friendly staff members to guide me to each type of stone on my list. I even found some egg-shaped freshwater pearls which are particularly symbolic, due to the patience required in their creation and the touted aphrodisiac qualities of oysters.

The bracelet was a cinch to make, with the exception of the clasp, which Eric kindly attached for me. So, in the end it was a team effort (hello, symbolism). Stay tuned to find out if this real housewife of Charleston County will be pregnant in the next episode.