I have a container of sperm in my armpit people!  I can’t be late.  Today, of all days, I really need for there to not be traffic.  I prayed for everything to go smoothly – so why is this happening?  I hope, I hope that I can get there in time.

I call the clinic and tell them I’m running late.  I watch the minutes tick by on the clock, and try to urge the traffic forward with my mind.  Why do we do that?  Why do we think our “vibes,” or our angry curses will somehow change the traffic patterns.  It never actually works.

I’m twenty minutes late to my appointment – not ideal, but not too late either.  They’re ready to go when I get there.  I take the specimen cup out of its hiding place, gently unwrap the bag, and remove the container.  It’s wet.  The bag is wet.  Oh no!  It was leaking!?  How can this be?  I feel numb as I look at the lab tech who asks me to pass it over, and says that she’ll do her best to get as much sperm as possible.

I’m ushered back out to the waiting room, where I sit and try to come to terms with the fact that today will likely not be the day I get inseminated.  First the traffic, then a leaking cup… thing really aren’t going that well.  I open my book, and get lost in the words.

After about an hour I’m called back and ushered into a small exam room.  The nurse explains to me that we’re ready to go.  “So, “we’re doing everything today still?”  She nods.  “There’s enough sperm?”  She tells me that between 5-10 million is enough, and even with the spillage – there are still 8 million sperm ready to go.  And, in this moment I feel an odd sense of pride over my husband’s sperm. 

I have to take a minute to get used to the idea that this is happening today, I’d been working so hard to convince myself that it would be okay if they told me that I had to wait, that I wasn’t really considering that it might still work out.

I put my feet in the stirrups, they come in with a small syringe connected to a catheter and have me read off the patient identifiers to ensure that it’s the right sperm.  I ask the nurse practitioner if she’s 100% sure that it’s the right sperm, and she confirms that I’m the only person being inseminated this morning.  That’s super good news.  For some reason I was really worried, that that might get messed up – and that sounds like a giant legal nightmare to me – so I’m thankful that there’s not really a chance for a mistake.  I rest easy on the exam table, and the NP gets to work.

After about ten minutes, I ask, “Everything going okay?”

She says, “Yes, just threading the catheter.”  Then, a few minutes later, she adds, “I can’t get it through your inner os, your uterus is bent awkwardly.”

Well, count on my uterus to be awkward.

The nurse practitioner tries for a few more minutes, then the nurse tries, then they agree to get Dr. Yalcinkaya out of surgery so that he can do the insemination.  They give me two water bottles to chug, and inform me that a full bladder will likely help position things better.

I drink quickly, then I recline and read a book (that I am super glad I brought with me).

I'm super into my book, when the doctor come strolling into the room, he sits down on a stool, raises the bottom of the bed, and sticks the catheter straight in.  Easy peasy.  And there you have it folks, I’ve been artificially inseminated.  All I need is ten more minutes of reclining, and I can go back to my usual activities.

I sat on the bed, just staring at the syringe in my hand.  I sat there for like an hour.  Hoping, wondering, praying.

The syringe contained one-hundred and seven dollars worth of hCG, and is commonly referred to as a trigger shot.  It was prescribed by a fertility specialist.

I finally just told myself to breathe and have a little courage.  I gave myself the injection like I would any other patient, I was deft and swift.  It wasn't the injection itself that was making me nervous, but my inability to see a glimpse of the future, and what this needle might bring - maybe happiness, maybe not...

I've been in to the fertility clinic twice recently.

On Feb 15th I went in for a hysterosalpingogram (HSG), where they were unable to confirm whether or not my fallopian tubes were already open, or whether the contrast dye had just pushed them open right then and there. I felt like they should be able to tell them if my tubes were okay or not before this super expensive intervention, but they couldn't.  I also felt like they should've been able to tell me how long my tubes are likely to stay open... hours, days, weeks, months... but they couldn't tell me that either.  What they did tell me is that my left fallopian tube is three times longer than my right.

Weird.  

They printed off a picture so that I can keep it forever.  

I attribute this anomaly to the fact that my mom used some kind of herbicide to kill weeds in our backyard while she was pregnant with me.

Apparently it may or may not effect my ability to get pregnant.

Maybe if the fertility clinic was able to answer some of these questions they would have a higher success rate - but you can't really point that out to them, because you need their help, and you don't want them to inseminate you with the wrong sperm as retaliation.  That would be bad.

My second time at the fertility clinic was this week. This time it was to measure my follicles.   I had like nine of them that measured 14-20 mm.  Apparently that's pretty good because they told me I could go ahead and take my hCG trigger shot, and they will plan on inseminating me at the end of the week... this definitive announcement is what started making me so nervous though, and my brain started swimming with questions.  What is a good size for a follicle?  How many should there be?  If I normally ovulate on the 14th day of my cycle is it really best for me to take the trigger shot on Thursday? I ended up calling the clinic fifteen minutes after driving out of the parking lot.  I had to start the conversation by apologizing for my weirdness.  They were very kind and answered all of my questions, and thought maybe it would be better if we did the trigger shot today.

This made me more nervous.  I mean, it's a whole day different - they should know the exact timing of these things, shouldn't they?

Apparently nervous Bonnie is someone who spends a great deal of time reading information on the internet.  This is what I've gathered in the past hour:

Follicles grow 2 mm per day toward the end of your cycle

Follicles should be 18-20 mm (or larger) before taking your trigger shot

IUI should take place 24-48 hours after the trigger shot

5-10 million (or more) motile sperm are needed for IUI to work

STUDY 1: Eight percent of patients (n = 87) were excluded because their leading follicle was less than 18 mm by days 11 to 13. Pregnancy was recorded as clinical pregnancy with fetal heart activity seen at 6- to 7-week transvaginal ultrasound. For both CC and letrozole, higher pregnancy rates were achieved when the leading follicles were in the 23 to 28 mm range. The optimal size of the leading follicle was not statistically significantly different between cycles using CC or letrozole. However, for each endometrial thickness, the optimal follicular size of the leading follicle was different. Each additional millimeter of endometrial thickness increased the optimal follicular size by 0.5 mm. Thicker endometrial lining led to a higher probability of pregnancy.

STUDY 2: In this study, intrauterine insemination timing did not affect the cycle outcomes whether the procedure has been performed 24 or 36 h later following ovulation trigger with exogenous hCG utilization. The longer period of treatment cycle during ovulation induction with clomiphene citrate resulted with higher clinical pregnancy rate. Intrauterine insemination can be done successfully at either 24 or 36 h after hCG in clomiphene citrate stimulated cycles. This will allow more flexibility and convenience for both physicians and patients, especially during weekends.

STUDY 3: Study showed a statistically significant increase in pregnancy rate up to 22.6% in patients performing IUI 48 h after hCG trigger, compared to the 10.6% in the patients having the procedure done 12 h earlier.

STUDY COMPARISON: They reported a 2.3% pregnancy rate per IUI cycle when fewer than 10 million total motile sperm were initially available, compared to 8.4% for 10 to 30 million total motile sperm and 9.9% for ≥30 million total motile sperm. We reported an 8.4% pregnancy rate when 5 to 10 million total motile sperm were initially available, 8.7% pregnancy rate for 10 to 40 million total motile sperm, and 12.8% for ≥40 million total motile sperm, compared to 2.3% pregnancy rate when there were fewer than 5 million total motile sperm.

I love these sweet faces, and the funny, adventurous little personalities behind them.

List 10 Hobbies and Activities That Bring You Joy...

1. Hiking - I think that anyone who knows me, knows that I love to hike.  To be outside.  To get to the top of a mountain.  To go a distance that's a little farther than I thought I could.
2. Seeing new places - I love a good adventure. And actually, sometimes I like to see old places again, in a different light.
3. Taking pictures - I can't really say photography, because I just snap what I see, with my phone - but I love taking pictures - capturing beauty, memories, moments. And, lately I enjoy a good home video recording too.
4. Tucking the kids into bed - I love this time with them, because I feel like it's a time to really connect, to talk to them about important things, and see into their little souls, and understand what really makes them unique and special.
5. Organizing - having things in order feels so, so good to me.
6. Art - these days most of my painting, coloring, drawing is done in the company of three crazy kiddos - who are funny creative, and focused on doing a good job.  I love to see what they make.  I also love to see what Trevor will come up with.  And, for me, it's nice to be creative for a time (even though my skills never really progressed past the 4th grade 😊)
7. Talking - to family and friends, connecting on a deeper level, laughing, learning something new, finding solutions to problems, discovering what feels good and true.
8. Reading - I haven't done as much as reading as I would like lately - but I love to read.  I love the way the pages of a book smell.  I like learning something knew, or being sucked into a world that is different from my own.
9. Sleeping - When ever I'm having a bad day - a little sleep can make it a lot better.
10. Writing - enough said.

It's this girl's birthday today.  

I met her in 1989.  She was too cool to be friends with me then - but eventually I won her over, and we became the best of friends.

We would listen to 50's music and dance in the basement, go for walks up mountain sides and look out at ocean vistas, skip school and ride in logging trucks, drive back and forth in car washes, eat yummy food, watch the Rosie O'Donnell Show, take ballet classes, sit next to each other at lunch, sing next to each other in choir, go sledding down steep snow covered mountain roads, hide candied valentine hearts so we could eat them all by ourselves, watch movies and eat popcorn, run and slide to safety from charging cows, dance ourselves silly at school dances, camp on beaches with friends, and canoe away from angry sea lions in the dark.

But most importantly she was there.

We could talk for hours, we would laugh so hard our sides would ache and tears would come streaming out of our eyes

I loved her then, and I love her still.

Happy Birthday Roberta!

Well, I had a super rough day at work today.  So, in an effort to stay positive, I'm going to list what I like about my job:

• I have an office with a window and a bathroom.
• I work with some pretty amazing people.
• My commute is only 20 minutes.
• The work I do helps keep people safe.
• I have two computer screens.
• My boss will let me work from home if the plumber is coming to my house.
• I get paid.
• I cover two hospitals, but they're right across the street from each other so that makes it easy.
• The department has made some positive changes in the past year.
• The Friday HAI meeting.
• Did I mention the people?  The people are great.
• The photocopier.
• I have some flexibility and autonomy.

I'm resurrecting my blog.  I think it's about time.  And, this time I'm going to be writing with a purpose.

I want to start a gratitude journal.  I'm not sure that I'll be able to put my sarcastic, pessimistic self completely to rest, but at least I'll be making an attempt to become a little more positive and emotionally resilient.

Wish me luck!

I went for a bike ride tonight.  Along the Provo River trail.  It soothed my soul.  I have lots of memories along that trail.  Late night runs with my roommates, and the boys next door.  Sitting on the grass and talking about anything and everything.  Riding bikes with good friends.  Falling in love, on a walk that kept us out till morning.  So many people, so many memories - all of them good.

I bought a house on the trail a few months ago.  And it has been a really great place to live - perhaps because it's tied to so much goodness.  Perhaps memories help us heal and pass through the parts of life that seem too hard to bear.

I am thankful for all the good people I have known in my life, who have given me beautiful memories.

A friend invited me over to watch a movie with some of his friends. He was the only one that I knew.  I was excited to get out, and meet some new people in an effort to get my life up and rolling post-divorce.  After the movie we sat around talking.  Eventually the conversation fell on the topic of trans-inclusive bathroom policies.  Did I mention it was three o’clock in the morning?  Maybe not the best time of day to alight on such a controversial subject.  However, it was likely broached because all the other individuals in the room were on the same page.  But, to me their view seemed a little too narrow; I took it upon myself to point out the errors in their thinking.  I pointed out that perhaps they were taking things to the extreme, that maybe allowing a trans-gender individual to use the bathroom that they feel comfortable in, doesn’t necessarily mean that their wives and daughters are going to be raped. 

My friend, of all people, just kept getting more and more agitated – trying to make me see things his way.  A girl in the room, kept rolling her eyes, and looking at me like I was stupid. And, another guy decided to mediate – but really, in the end, just wanted me to see things the way the rest of them did.

I think the thing that bothered me most was that girl.  Why was she looking at me like that?  Isn’t it okay to have a different opinion?  Isn’t it okay to encourage people to look at both sides of a story?  But, she just kept looking at me like I was a moron.  Maybe it was just because I was the stranger in the room, and she couldn’t believe that I was so obtuse – but part of me felt like she was disappointed with my lack of femininity.  She herself had been an active participant in the conversation while it had been all jokes and laughs. She was funny, and full of banter, but it all had an underlying damsel in distress sort of quality.  She had played the roll of naïve female who couldn’t possibly understand the definition of a Western film, getting the men all worked up by asking if “Rango” could be considered a Western.  However, as the conversation turned to more serious subjects – she grew more quiet – retiring, in a way, to the drawing room and leaving the men to their cigars and politics.  But I did the opposite, and became more passionate and conversant, seemingly make a nuisance of myself left right and center.

I felt sorry for myself as I drove home. Why couldn’t I be accepted for trying to point out how another person might feel, or for encouraging a conversation to visit more sides than just one? Why was I to blame for my friend getting all worked up?  I wasn’t agitated or annoyed.  Yet, I was the person getting the judgmental looks and mediation efforts.  I realize that I was the odd man out – but still….  Why does like attract like?  Some say that opposites attract, but in my experience people tend to shun those who are different from themselves.  I’m not in the mood to be shunned.  I’ve spent the past three years being a complete disappointment to a man who claimed to love me. Right now, I really just want someone to appreciate me for who I am. Appreciate that I see things differently and that I’m willing to put myself in someone else’s shoes.  But, I’m lodged in this culture of uniformity - where different is bad, and expressing acceptance of differences is downright immoral – and I hate it.

The crazy thing was, they had spent a significant amount of time discussing a friend who makes shamefully racist comments in an effort to get a rise out of people.  They laughed about how people just don’t understand him – how he doesn’t really hate Jews and Blacks, and that his comments are really just funny once you get to know him. 

So that guy’s okay?!  That guy you can accept?  But, the person who tries to bring a little rationality and acceptance into your lives is obtuse, obnoxious, and too opinionated?  It just doesn’t make any damn sense.

I give up.

I've started running again.  After a rough divorce, and way too many hours watching Netflix - I've decided to take my life back, and stop feeling sorry for myself.  It's a good plan.  I think.

My cell phone keeps track of the distance I've run. Plus, it plays me some motivational tunes - without which, this process would be more difficult than I would like to admit :)  So, it's completely indispensable to me. But, the problem is, it's so stinking big and I'm scared of dropping it.

In a moment of epiphany - I decided that there must be some sort of belt, that I can have around my waist, to tuck my cell phone securely inside (I'm not a big fan of the armbands).  So, yesterday I went to a running store, and bought myself a Mirage Belt.  Super slick... And I was super excited, until I realized it's nothing more than a glorified Fanny Pack!

Well, after two and a half years of crying, praying, hoping, and trying to make things better.  Jason and I are getting a divorce. A divorce. A real live divorce. I hate divorce. I dated, and dated, trying to find that someone I could spend all of time with... and, I thought that's what I had found.  I can't say I've never been more sad in my life, because the truth is, it's not ending well, and I have mixed feelings about the whole thing.  I might be able to say that I've never been more confused in my life. The person I see today, is not the person I saw two years ago, nor is it the person I thought I married a year and a half ago. And, I'm sad. 

The Provo Tabernacle

I drove past the Provo Tabernacle the other day - it's on its way to becoming the Provo Temple - but it actually looks horrible... just a dark empty shell on a vacant lot surrounded by construction.

It gave me hope... because I know what the plan is, I know what it's going to be. Sometimes, when I look at myself, I see the same thing - a Bonnie under construction - one that's not looking so great at the moment.  But the truth is, there's a plan for me too.  I am also in the process of becoming something.

The fire was a tragedy - a beautiful building gone.  

But no - it's going to be restored!  And even better, it's going to become a beautiful Temple.

I'm thankful for the ways that Heavenly Father chooses to teach us about the atonement.

Long, long ago in a far away land...

My Family owned this estate in Shropshire England.  

A Tragedy

On the first day of Kindergarten, a piece of paper was placed in front of me, and I was asked to draw a picture of myself. 

"Sure thing," I thought.  I took my pencil and proceeded to draw a large head with two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and long hair.

Done.  Me.

My teacher came along and wrapped her arm around the back of my chair, "Don't you want to add some color like the other kids."

I think I was expecting her to complement my drawing, because I remember feeling a little crestfallen. I liked my drawing the way it was, but I didn't want to disappoint my new teacher so I reached for a red crayon and quickly made some adjustments.

This was the end result:

Through out the school year I learned that I had blonde hair, blue, eyes, that I was a girl, and that I probably liked pink.  At the end of the year we were given the exact same piece of paper and asked, again, to draw a picture of ourselves.  

This time I came up with the following:

I guess you could argue that I had become a better artist, or that I had become more self aware, but I think that what we are actually seeing is the result of a bizarre societal pressure to focus on what I looked like more than who I was. And it leaves me feeling slightly disappointed.  It makes me miss the girl who first entered that classroom, unaware of eye or hair color, confident, content to do her own thing, happy with who she was inside, and unaware of the things she wasn't or the way that other's perceived her.  I wish I'd stayed that girl. 

Many, many moons ago, I was idly browsing through a bookstore, when I came across this book.

Another time, in the same bookstore, I received a phone call. 

I was sitting next to Kate, we were across the table from Laura and Nick, and we were all browsing through wedding magazines looking for ideas for Kate's upcoming wedding, when my phone rang.  I dug into my bag, saw the number, and froze.  

My heart was beating fast - too fast, my palms were sweaty,

I was light-headed, 

I was giddy,  

I was unsure if I should answer.

But I did.

And the sound of his voice made my little heart do flips inside my chest.
I wandered aimlessly through the books, ridiculously happy, flirtatiously chatting.
He was calling to ask me out,
on a date,
to go hiking.
I was elated.

He was handsome, funny, charming, ridiculously intelligent, and he would soon be my boyfriend.

Okay, now, back to the giraffe book.

At the back of the book there was a stencil.  It looked a little like this:

And on it were the following directions: 

"First, cut along the dotted lines until the entire shape is visible. Then, hold the card up to any animal. If the animal fits inside the cut-out space, then yes, you're looking at a giraffe."

Random, I know.

But it made me realize I had a similar stencil in my head that I would hold up to men, and if they didn't fit inside, then that would be that.

I didn't know it, but the guy on the phone would end up breaking my heart.
He would also end up becoming my stencil.  

A stencil that is still in the works. Changing shape as I learn a little more about myself, and a little more about the person I'm looking for.

This is my Mom's eulogy, written and shared by her best friend Darlene Norris:

A beautiful day to pay tribute to a beautiful lady.

We each feel that something has been taken from our hearts with the death of Peggy Corbett. Peggy is a nickname for Margaret – The meaning of Margaret is “a pearl”. The definition of a pearl is “a very fine one of its kind”. She is a pearl among women.

Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the 12 Apostles said in a talk not too long ago “I believe that not all angels are from the other side of the veil. Some of them we walk with and talk with—here, now, every day. Some of them reside in our own neighborhoods. ‘Heaven never seems closer than when we see the love of God manifested in the kindness and devotion of people so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to mind”. Peggy was a special angel in the form of my best friend. Jim knows that he was married to an angel. Some of you have the privilege of calling this special angel mom, grandma and nannan.

We are all children of God. No matter our religion or what we believe. That makes Peggy a sister to each and every one of us. When you add mother, grandmother, wife, friend it makes that sister even more special.

About 1987 Peggy and Jim with their two youngest children, Bonnie and Louise moved to Powell River and the first day we met we were friends, and it wasn’t long before we were best friends. We discovered together how much we had in common and how much our husbands had in common. Our youngest daughters became best friends.

Just as our youngest daughters spent many hours together; our husbands are in the ham radio club together. They managed to talk us into getting our ham radio licenses and so Peggy and I went to the class together. She passed with honors – one of her talents being an intelligent mind.

Peggy served in her church callings so very faithfully. She loved being a member of Relief Society and knew how to be a part of that great women’s organization no matter where she was serving. We were young women leaders together in 1994 when we took 8 young women to UBC for a Young Women Conference. It was an adventure with lots of laughs together. She was so fun and so considerate of others.

Over the years we enjoyed travelling to the Seattle Temple with our husbands. Peggy loved the temple and what it stands for. My Journal has many entries of times we spent with Peggy and Jim over the years. We always loved to have dinner in their home – she made the best roast beef dinner; and then for dessert her famous trifle that was so good, and as you all know the best of company and always a spirit of love in their home.

We spent some Christmas’ together and New Years eve and New Years day. One year it was all 3 of those days. Peggy loved Christmas. Seventeen years ago this last December she organized the first Crèche Exhibit here at the church that has become an annual event that she organized every year except for one when she was too sick. She had such a talent for bringing everything together just right. She would say that it was all the help she had but we knew that she was the one who knew exactly how it needed to be put together successfully.

I will never forget her love and kindness. On 3 different occasions she went with me to my medical appointments in Vancouver and Comox because she wanted to give me support out of her pure love and caring.

Peggy and I would often play a game together about who was the best; she always let me win but I knew that she was the winner. We shared in each other’s joys as our grandchildren were born. We were one of the first to hear from each other about a new baby and about special events in the lives of our children – in joy and in sorrow.

We know that Jesus Christ was the only person who has lived on the earth who has set the perfect example for us to follow. Peggy followed that example as perfectly as anyone I know. Peggy has and always will be a great example to others and me for her integrity. I admired so much her talent for finding something good in every person. She touched the hearts of everyone she met.

Charity never faileth. We know that charity is the pure love of Christ. Peggy exemplified charity more than any person I know. It showed in her love for her family, in her love and compassion to each one of us here today. I think of her love for her sister Hazel and husband Peter who are not able to be here – they talked often on the phone across the ocean.

When Peggy gave a gift it was from the heart. She was always thinking of others – so thoughtful and kind.

Peggy had a strong testimony of the restored gospel; her faith in Jesus Christ was, and is, an example to each of us.

She was beautiful on the inside and out. She was my beauty consultant as she was to some of you so she could make us feel beautiful on the outside and she had a special talent for making people feel good on the inside too – a double duty beauty consultant.

With a little help from Jim, Peggy raised 5 beautiful, wonderful children to be as loving as she is. 14, almost 15 lovely grandchildren a son-in-law and daughters-in-law have been added; and she loved each so dearly; It gives me comfort to think of her in the spirit world re-uniting with Jordan and with her parents that she always spoke so fondly of. She had so much love for each one of her family.

Think of how happy you were to visit or be visited by Peggy; now imagine how excited and happy those on the other side of the veil are to be with her.

She is in the spirit world today. Think of the body and spirit as a hand and glove. The body is the glove and without the hand the glove cannot move. We are promised that our bodies and spirits will one day be reunited. Alma tells us in chapter 40:23 “The soul shall be restored to the body, and the body to the soul; yea, and every limb and joint shall be restored to its body; yea, even a hair of the head shall not be lost; but all things shall be restored to their proper and perfect frame” Alma 40:11-12 “Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection-Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body (take the glove from the hand) yea, the spirits of all men (women included), whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life. And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their trouble and from all care, and sorrow. I truly believe that Peggy is in that paradise. Don’t worry she will be busy and happy teaching in the spirit world just as she enjoyed doing so here.

In the 24th Psalm, verses 3 and 4 it says, “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who shall stand in his holy place? He that has clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul until vanity, nor sworn deceitfully”. Peggy exemplified a person with clean hands and a pure heart.

There is so much to remind us of her.

It was such an honor and privilege to be Peggy’s best friend. I want to be just like her when I grow up.

Today we say goodbye to a special daughter of God, an angel, and a pearl. We will miss that sweet smile and glowing warmth; but oh the fond memories to carry us through.

Until we meet again.