How to: Survive the DMV

Okay, I'm giving you a major gift here. Many of you probably don't know this, but I worked at the "Tag Office" for the last two years. How in the world this happened still boggles me to this day. I was third in my high school graduating class, graduated with honors from UGA... this is definitely NOT where I saw myself after graduation. If you want the story on how/why I was there, keep reading, if you just want the goods, scroll down.

How did this occur you ask? Well, my dear husband threw a curve ball at me right before our wedding. We weren't going to the big city where I'd have opportunities for many design jobs, nope, it was off to Augusta. When we arrived, I knew no one. No contacts at all. There might have been jobs in Augusta, but I honestly just wasn't prepared to market myself correctly in the design world. So I sat around for a month trying to figure out what to do, when I suddenly realized sitting was a luxury I didn't have. We needed money NOW! There wasn't enough student loan money available to pay all our bills and we had accrued a sizable credit card bill from the wedding. I had NEVER not paid my bill in full. We had several thousands of dollars sitting on that card accruing some unthinkable 16% interest. This Financial Peace University grad was not having it. I literally felt like I could see the dollars climbing before me eyes everyday.

So on my mom's recommendation I humbled myself and went to a temp agency. Momma felt sure that they would have jobs for people like me (educated, specialized, motivated); well they didn't. I figured I'd go ahead and fill out their application, but I'd probably never hear from them. That was Friday. I had an interview scheduled for the following Monday and Thursday by the end of the day.

Monday I showed up at the local tag office, having absolutely no idea what a tag office even did. I knew I for sure didn't want the job, but I figured I better go to every interview or the agency would stop helping me. By the end of the interview, they had offered me a job. What? I think I barely passed your typing test! I went home to Sam and we discussed that the only other jobs I'd been offered to date were $8 an hour, part time. This was $11 an hour, full time, plus benefits. The other position I had an interview for did seem to have more promising design work, but it was for HUD housing, in downtown Augusta, in the projects. I decided to take the job, hoping I could move on quickly to bigger and better things.

I was hired to help "facilitate" the design of the website that they were just beginning to redo. They had hired a company in California to handle the design and building of the site, but I think the idea kind of overwhelmed the head guy. And if he could hire somebody to "talk design" with the people in California so he didn't have to, he was happy to hand the project off.

So for about 4 weeks I worked on the website and doing purposeless jobs like redesigning the Tax Commissioner's logo, which never came to fruition. But eventually it became super apparent that this wouldn't last forever. They decided to train me to work on the front line. And somehow, I never left. The insurance really got me. For a girl who only had major medical all through college, who had paid full price for every prescription and doctor's visit, the insurance was a miracle! And once we were trying to get pregnant, I really didn't have the option to quit, I would have to wait for another full time job and their benefits package to kick in. Honestly, conceiving was more important to me than the job.

So that's it, that's how I got there. The important thing for you is that I'm walking away with a plethora of knowledge for you. Remember "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days"? Well just think of me as your very own Andie Anderson, the how-to-girl. She did all kinds of crazy and less than glamorous jobs just to get the information to pass on to her readers. That's me: I survived 2 years at the tag office all for you!

So here's the scoop!

1. Know the Difference: Georgia is a bit unique (read wonky) in that the "DMV" as it is in most states is divided into two different agencies. The Department of Driver's Services (DDS) is for all things related to Identification Cards (ie Driver's License and State ID Cards). They of course also handle road tests, CDL's, driver's permits, etc. This is NOT where I worked. I worked at the "tag office" also known as the Motor Vehicle Division (MVD). DDS is a STATE run agency. This means that fees and services are the same at EVERY location in the state. Lose your ID while visiting family? No problem, you can go to ANY DDS to get a replacement. The tag office is not State run, it is managed by the individual counties as a department of the Tax Commissioner's Office. This means that you must receive services from YOUR county.
2. Do Your Homework: You can save yourself a lot of heartache by planning ahead to make sure that you are as prepared as possible before you make the drive. See if your Tax Commissioner has a website. Check the state website. Call the office. One thing that is super duper annoying about Georgia is that each Tax Commissioner has a certain amount of freedom in how they run their county's tag office, so what is true in Gwinnett County will not necessarily be true in Hall County.
3. Take a Deep Breath: I can't tell you the number of times that someone walked into our office already in a huff, expecting a fight, to discover no line, friendly customer service, and a quick process. I really think that we, as a society, experience or hear about disaster scenarios and therefore dread going in to the office. However, I dealt with HUNDREDS of people who had lived in other states, and almost every time they told me that in comparison to New York, or California, or North Carolina, the process was relatively painless.
4. Plan Your Visit: It was mind boggling to me that 50-60% of the time, someone's window was available in our office... meaning NO WAIT. However, some days, the line would wrap around and the wait exceeded 30 minutes. So, call ahead and ask when are the "down times". In a Monday through Friday office like ours, Fridays are THE WORST. Mondays are a close second. The beginning and end of the month are much busier as well. Therefore, anytime that the first or last of a month falls on a Friday: BEWARE! I feel like there needs to be a public service announcements that says no wait on Tuesdays through Thursdays! If you know it will be busy, and you can't go at a better time, do yourself a favor, take a book, headphones, whatever will help you stay calm.
5. Renew Your Tag: You know that "sticker" on the back of your car. It's your proof that you are current on your taxes. Your sticker/decal has four pieces of info on it. Most notably, color. Each year the color changes. Second, the month and year. This allows for a super quick check by police to see if you are current. If your tag says "JUL 12", guess what? You're expired! The other info is simply the county you are registered in and your tag number, so that the decal cannot be used on another tag. Now, this is something that is confusing to some, though your tag only says a month and year, it actually expires on a specific day: the birthday of the primary (first listed) owner. So my tag says OCT 12, but it actually expires on my birthday, October 21, 2012. If I pay on October 22, I will be charged a late fee. And arriving at the office three months after your tag was due to say that you thought it was due at the end of the month and not on your birthday is NOT going to save you the extra dollars, so don't ask.
6. Be Nice to People, and They Will (Might) be Nice to You: Let me tell you, this is a TOUGH job. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how much training is required. But the really tough part: the people. In my brief stint at the tag office, I had more times than I could count that someone cussed or fussed at me, or simply insulted me. Plus, our office was threatened on more than one occasion in which police arrived to arrest someone. So, that being said, just expect that whoever you are dealing with has had a LONG day. Smile. Be friendly. Explain your problem succinctly. Listen. And if things don't go your way, do NOT pitch a fit. This will not help. If you honestly feel that you need additional assistance, ask to speak with a manager, nicely. Remember, you have to go back to that office to achieve your original goal, they will remember you if you cause a big enough fuss, and that will certainly NOT help you.

So there you have it. Plan ahead. Remain calm. Smile. You too can survive the DMV. Good Luck!

Give me Faith

This is all I have for today:

Give me faith to trust what you say

That you're good and your love is great

I'm broken inside, I give you my life

I may be weak

Your Sprit's strong in me

My flesh may fail

My God you never will

Clinging to the lyrics in this song to get me through!

I Came, I Saw, I ATE

Who's up for a posting that's not about TTC? Well here goes: For years Sam and I have been IN LOVE with this one restaurant in Atlanta, Chops. I even blogged about our last experience several years ago. We hadn't been back to Atlanta for a while, so we had accumulated several of these Buckhead Life Restaurant Group gift cards. That's when we decided to use them all on our second anniversary mini vacation in Atlanta. For that trip we decided to be brave and spread the money around trying out some of the other options Buckhead Life has to offer. And really, we weren't disappointed with any of them.

So fast forward to June 2012, and what arrives in our mailbox? A gift card for $25 to Nava. Who hoo! We had been there before and knew that this place was good, and most importantly that $25 could go along way. So we went with a couple of friends of mine from Augusta who met up with us there. Now I'd love to send you there, but I can't. Unbeknownst to us, when we went on August 5, Nava only had one more night to be open. WHAT??? Yea, so Nava closed, for unexplained reasons, and now a new restaurant is coming next year (not a Buckhead Life Group). So sorry, I tell you all about the yummy margaritas and tasty tacos, and then you can't try it yourself. Sorry! I guess they decided to send out the card to give Nava a great sendoff?!? I don't know. It seems weird to me to send out thousands of gift cards to a restaurant that is closing.

Anyway, the point of all the Nava talk is that the gift card has some strings attached. Strings that lead you somewhere pretty cool. Basically if you went to Nava in the month of July (or the first 6 days of August) for dinner and presented your gift card, not only would you receive $25 off your meal, but you would get another gift card for another $25 off to another Buckhead Life Restaurant. If you go to that restaurant in August, then you get another card for September. And finally, if you go in September you get a $25 gift card for ANY of the restaurants. Now, if you're a picky eater (me) and ethnic cuisine isn't really your thing, then this can be kind of daunting. You don't know what the next restaurant will be until you go to the current one. There are several that I don't think I could find a thing on the menu to eat. But we were extremely lucky and our Nava trip sent us to Veni Vidi Vici.

Let me tell you, this place is DELICIOUS! We started off the meal with Calamari because, if it's on the menu, Sam's going to order it. It was tasty, not the most spectacular ever, but yummy. I forgot to snap a photo however, so I'll give you this cute one of Sam sweetening his unsweet tea with syrup.

I was a bit overwhelmed by the menu. 90% of the meats are not in my everyday list: veal, duck, lamb. So I stuck to plain, simple, and faithful, spaghetti with meatballs, but it was super tasty. The meatballs were a mix of pork and veal and the pasta was perfectly coated in a lovely light tomato and basil sauce.

Sam was a bit more adventurous and ordered the Pappardelle, which is basically long, wide noodles, mushroom ragu, and duck from their rotisserie. I wasn't a huge fan of the duck, but Sam loved it and ate every bit.

And the end to a lovely meal is always in the form of desert in  my opinion, so we finished off the night with a ginormous slice of Tiramisu. Awwww, heaven.

So there you have it, if you haven't been, you should head on down to 14th Street and try it out. We're off to scan the menu of our next jaunt, the Buckhead Diner. Should be good!

How Did We Get Here?

There's a soundtrack in my head these days:

"How did we get here? How the hell, pan left, close up on my empty uterus, still nothing there."

This little song of mine is to the tune of Halloween from one of my all time favorite musicals, Rent. I know, I know, I'm a mess. But sometimes, the only thing you can do with infertility is laugh (or sing songs).

But seriously, how did we get here? A year ago, I thought, "hmm, well it'll just take a little time". Then there was my one and only BFP (for a day). The doctors assured me that this was NOT a sign of infertility, but probably some unknown chromosomal issue. Just nature taking care of itself. HAHAHA! While that is still a possibility, it seems more likely that my little girl was perfect in every way (she has fabulous parents after all), but that this gal, with the broken uterus, the thin lining, and the crappy progesterone levels, well, she just couldn't get it together enough to hold on to that precious life. (Anybody else thinking, "baby killer"? It's okay, I am too.)

But a year ago, I clung to my doctors "get out of jail free pass", and believed that it was her not me. When nothing happened after a few more months, we decided to start treatment: mild treatment. I say mild now, at the time, going on Clomid seemed like one of the biggest life decisions. HAHAHAHA! Going to an RE was our next step, but it wasn't really a conscious decision like, "well we need the big guns now", but more of an issue that starting treatment again after the cysts correlated with moving from Augusta. I thought, "it's dumb to get a new OB/GYN and go through all this mess again only to be referred to an RE, at which point we would have to go through all of this mess a third time. Just skip the middle man." 

But it seems that moving to an RE, really is "bringing out the big guns", thought I'm not sure why. I suddenly realize that I am two to four cycles away from being referred for IVF. (Acronyms are funny/annoying. I want capitalization to show my "what the hell?" feelings on IVF, but it's already capitalized, so maybe IVF, gets the point across.) Again, how did we get here? At what point did I go from a sweet (no one ever said that) young girl (the doctors did actually say that) who just can't seem to get herself properly knocked up, to an infertile, less that 10% chance of pregnancy, going to spend a billion dollars on a baby, crazy old lady? Where was the line I crossed, because I'd like to go back and hop back over it.

There's still a chance that this fertility challenged twenty-six year old can get herself knocked up, it won't be proper by any means, but it's possible. I say not proper, because paying $400 to lie on a table with my legs in stirrups, while some unknown lady attempts said knocking up with a syringe and a catheter is not exactly how I pictured it. But, there's still a chance that this bazaar method will work. If not this cycle, then maybe in one of the other two that we are prepared to try. But if it doesn't, then I will have seriously crossed over some threshold. Not the good kind that your husband carries you over, the never to return from kind where you literally are prepared to spend THIRTY THOUSAND DOLLARS for a kid. Whoaaa! How did we get here, how the hell?

Now as you might have imagined, Sam and I, at this moment in time, do not have thirty thousand dollars, we don't even have enough for one measly IVF cycle. So the plan would be to wait (eek, ouch, painful!) until Sam gets a big boy job and starts raking in the big bucks. And lucky for me, due to some idiotic cheating scandal with the PT boards, Sam won't get to take his test until the end of JULY 2013. That means it would be a year from now. Needless to say, I've found a new purpose for that signing bonus.

So, we're here (IUI), and I have no idea how, or why, or when we got here, but oh gracious I don't want to go there (IVF). This probably explains a little bit more about my "PLEASE" prayer. But I'm serious. I can't wrap my head around doing nothing for a year! But the doctors say you are just throwing your money down the drain after three or four IUI cycles. Money that you could be saving for an IVF, which has MUCH better odds. 

I could write about this all day long (I literally have nothing better to do). About how I don't really want my child to be conceived in a petri dish, about how I'm confused with where I stand morally on the whole frozen eggs subject, about, about, about. But I'll stop for your sake. 

Happy Wednesday.

Out of Words

My prayers are literally like this: "Father God, Please." "Lord, PLEASE." "Jesus, puh-lease." You may sense a theme here. If God is handing out miracles based on the most persuasive, or well-worded prayer, He will be skipping over me this month. If however, He is impressed be repetition, then I am in the running!

I feel like I've prayed everything I can possibly pray. I've negotiated, bargained, argued, asked nicely, begged, pleaded, etc. And I am simply out of words.

We completed our first round of IUI on Saturday. We have to wait two weeks to test, so we will know one way or another on September 1st. I think my heart is over optimism... I'm clinging to realism. The chances of success on an IUI with Clomid are about 10%, less than a fertile couple has with no treatment. And while my follicles were looking good, one at 24mm and one at 22mm (twinsies?), my endometrial lining was kind of thin, 6mm. Boo. However, we do have one thing going for us and that is 44 million swimmers, post wash. They like at least 5 million, so I'm feeling pretty happy with that little statistic... Sam is pretty proud of himself as well.

So here's to hoping that at least a few of those little swimmers make the itty bitty journey to the egg, but more importantly that if we fertilize, the little one will find a nice comfy home to dig in.

Survival of the Fittest

I know what you're thinking, this is it, the one where she says she was obviously not meant to have offspring because her DNA is corrupted, faulty, scary, likely to cause various diseases, etc. But no, that is a topic for a whole different post entirely. No, I'm talking about adaptation.

It's funny how you think you're one way, set in your ways, wouldn't/couldn't change if you wanted to/had to. And then, WHAM, you realize what you could not do before, you've been doing for months like it's no big deal.

Point 1: Blood. Ewwwww. 10th grade biology class, my teacher wants me to prick my finger to determine my blood type... Excuse me? Are you insane? Needles were passed (as in out, not around) and bile rose in my throat. I did the only sensical thing to do, I bolted for the door before 30 15 and 16 year olds started stabbing themselves and spewing blood everywhere. Because that would have led to worst nightmare: Amanda vomits EVERYWHERE.

And it's not just the sight of blood, it's the smell. Ughhhh. What is that? And really, I don't have to see it or smell it, but just knowing that you want to stab me and steal my life juice is enough to make me weak in the knees, literally. I've been known to pass out over a finger prick, and if you need vials, holy moly, go ahead and get me a bed, some cookies and a juice box. We are going to be here for a while.

But that was then, now, blood work is like a weekly part of my life. Heck, sometimes it's even multiple times. I seriously don't even flinch. I don't watch (that's just crazy), and I appreciate the ladies who are quick, painless, and efficient (don't stab me twice), but after all the blood that has been swiped from me in the last year, I think it's safe to say, my heart rate doesn't even flicker.

Point 2: Exams. First off, let me say I abhor medical terminology and anatomically correct terms for the body. Who came up with these and why are they so creepy. So my hmmm hmmm, is either referred to as a "girl part" or a "special spot" in our household. (My med school husband LOVES this about me). Anyway, I don't think I'm the first girl to HATE annual exams. I mean really. You want to stick WHAT inside my WHERE? I think the only person who should get to see or feel the special spot is my husband.

Starting at 18, freshman year of college, I was ridiculously proactive and went for my first exam, and I've been back every year since then (props to me), but I dread it. It's awkward, it's freezing waiting in a paper gown, it's not comfortable, and I feel VIOLATED!

Now? Who cares! You can look all you want... everybody else in the whole office has seen all that I have to offer, up close, personal, in color, x-ray, and soon 3-d tv. I used to think that the forceps were the worst thing that would ever enter my girl part. If only. There have been hands (too numerous to count) wands, catheters, prickly brushes...

Point 3: Boys. Nope, notta, sorry, it just ain't happening. No boys (aka male doctors) will be anywhere near this lady. It used to really creep me out. I always went to a lady doctor. I made my first appointment to see a male OBGYN just over a year ago based on a glowing recommendation, but in my head, we were going to have a serious talk. First question: "why do you want to stare at, feel, ogle ladies' private places all day?" If the answer wasn't satisfactory (I have no idea what answer he could have provided that would have been), I was out of there. Alas, that was the plan before the miscarriage in which I discovered he was the nicest doctor ever.

But after all we've been through, boy doctors just aren't on my radar. And that's good because I think it would be nearly impossible to go through fertility treatments without an examination by a male doctor. The Reproductive Endocrinologist field is heavily filled with males, and although the clinic may be open 7 days a week with afternoon hours, that doesn't mean that there will be a lady there every time.

So yea, adaptation, survival of the fittest (that's me). What once gave me the heebie jeebies is now old hat. And honestly, my fears and issues were HUGE to me before, so it would certainly have taken something BIG to make me change my ways. But when a needle stands between you and your child (even your unborn/unconceived one), you just don't stop. You press on. So here's to adaptation. I wonder who I'll be on the other side of this bumpy, rocky, pot-hole ridden journey.

Book 2, Chapter 1

Today we started a whole new chapter in our journey towards creating a family of three (plus). Today officially marks day one of treatment with a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE). I have nothing incredibly perceptive or witty to say; I just wanted to document my thoughts and emotions on this day. So unless you're in treatment, thinking about starting, or weirdly interested in the status of my follicles and hormones, you may want to skip this post: feel free.

Today I went in for "day 3's". Basically a slew of blood work and an ultrasound. My results are all great for the most part. I'm just barely over the normal range for AMH (Anti-Mullerian Hormone) which does technically put me in the PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome) category, but barely. My ultrasound however showed only 15-16 follicles. 6 on one side and 9-10 on the other. Slightly high, but still in a great range! So I'm cleared for beginning treatment. The plan is a round of Clomid with an
IUI (Intrauterine Insemination). 

I will admit that today I was kind of frustrated, but I think this is just the nature of the beast. I went in with no idea what to expect, but with expectations none the less. I had so many questions, so many worries. My appointment lasted about 14 minutes start to finish. They stabbed my arm, stole my blood, patched me up and then sent me to a room to disrobe for the ultrasound. A doctor I hadn't met came in with a resident who performed my ultrasound. She was super nervous, so I'm guessing her rotation had just started. Nevertheless, it was over in about three minutes. We shook hands and said nice to meet you. He said someone would call with instructions later, and that was it. Done. There was no consultation, no q and a, just hi, bye, and here's your bill.

I was kind of upset, questioning if we'd made the right decision, thinking to myself, "I'm sure glad this wasn't one of my emotional days." My OB/GYN in Augusta had been so amazing, so caring, so personable. He called me all the time personally to check in, and always spent tons of time in the office answering my questions. This had been nothing like this. I called my care coordinator, an RN who is a part of my care team. After talking with her, I feel much better. She explained that some of the appointments will be quick and dirty, in and out, just tests. But there will be others in which I have time to sit down and talk with my doctor and ask all of my questions. Plus, she answered everything that I had wanted to ask so far. So yay, feeling much better, after that conversation.

Even after my appointment, my thoughts are kind of all over the place: fear, frustration, worry, excitement. Obviously the biggest worries right now are about finances. Starting treatment has almost exactly coincided with quitting my job. Perfect timing, huh? In reality it is. There was no way I could have begun treatment while working in Augusta. I had a dentist appointment turned down three times by managers there. Fertility treatment isn't one of those things that you can just reschedule. You're either all in or your wasting your money. So although starting now was intentional, it's also terrifying. I'm not going to get into the nitty gritty of the finances on the blog. The decisions we are making for our family are very personal to us. Some people will think we are crazy to spend this kind of money, others will "get it" and be committed to spending ten times what we are. If you are considering treatment and would like any info about the costs (or any other information) please feel free to contact me. I'm happy to talk with you, it's just not something I'm comfortable discussing before the whole world.

Starting feels strangely good though. Despite my fears and frustrations on day one, I'm happy to finally be doing something proactive. The waiting is over. We have made a plan and we are fulfilling it.

In a slightly reminiscent mood, I also can't help but note that it was my August cycle last year that we conceived (crazy to think its almost been a year since losing our little one). I'm not really a "luck" person, nor am I superstitious, but it does seem somehow fitting that this August would be the month! Plus I know my mom and Sam would LOVE a May birth! Haha! Not really, Sam's graduating and mom has her biggest fundraiser of the year, but hey, we've delayed enough! Let's do this!