Escape

I just returned after a crazy, fun, whirlwind extended weekend abroad with my family. I had to go to the States for work. I got there Thursday morning and landed back in Israel today, Tuesday. Every second of my trip was so quality. I went to a Yankee game with my sibs and drank watered-down beer (it was the first time I actually liked beer!). I made apple strudel with my grandmother whose favorite word is “goddamn”. (Actual conversation-Grandma: “Pass me that goddamn thing”         My brother: “This goddamn thing?”        Grandma: “Ya”) The point is: it was such an escape that I forgot to buy hpts! This is actually unfortunate as they cost an arm and a leg here. At least B is still there for business (we overlapped by a day) so he can pick some up.

My goal for this week while B is away is to fix up our apartment. I need control over something and if we’re not moving right away, I think putting some effort into organizing this place will give me some satisfaction.

In other news, I just found out a former workmate of mine was diagnosed with cancer. She got married at 40 or something like that, went through fertility treatments and now has a 1.5 year old cutie son. She decided she was ready for another round of treatments for a second child and oops, they found stage 4 ovarian cancer! She’s one of those strong, capable women who can do anything. Her husband doesn’t strike me as a great match for her, but who knows what’s really going on. In any case, you could see how thrilled she was to finally have a child.

My own feelings are so confused. Obviously, I’m devastated for her. I saw what ovarian cancer did to my mother-in-law. The chemo ravaged her so badly that she looked 20 years older than she was when she died. My last interaction with this workmate wasn’t a great one. She’s probably the only person in my extended circle of friends who can truly related to what I’m going through. I know she only wants the best for me but sometimes she goes a little far. I know she talks to mutual friends about me and the things she says makes me feel so looserish. I know she doesn’t mean it but I haven’t been able to speak to her for quite some time. Maybe it’s because I still don’t want to acknowledge that I really have fertility problems and can’t take it when people feel pity for me. I don’t know.

Secretly, I always feel that I don’t deserve to be happy. I thought I had broken that feeling when I got married and now part of me wonders what else is in store if I ever have a child.

I need to get over myself and stop thinking everything revolves around me. Much easier said than done. I hate that I have to escape my life everytime I want to return to the “normal” me.

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1 comment September 4, 2007

Stuck in a rut

Just when I was making some headway in changing my life, everything came crashing down. My landlady decided today that instead of kicking us out she would like us to stay in her apartment. She’s actually a wonderful woman who wanted us to stay all along, but her daughter wanted to move in. It now turns out that her daughter can’t move in due to our lack of elevator. Even though the thought of moving was making us sweat, it also gave us a chance of starting anew. We loved the idea of finding a place to live by the sea, of getting out an infertile city (not infertile to everyone I pass on the street, just to me) and of finally living with air conditioning. We knew we would never leave unless we were physically getting removed. So while we were overwhelmed by packing up all our crap (neither of us can throw anything out), we were ready for the next part of our lives. It now feels like someone poked a hole in our newfound energy and excitement and now it’s deflated. There’s now no hope of us moving. It’s unrealistic to think we can pull off moving right now while B will be away on business for a while and rents are ridiculously high. Oh well. There goes that.

The other piece of crappy news today is that I didn’t ovulate this month. Apparently, according to my doc, some months women just don’t ovulate. Even on Clomid. And metformin. And my usual pre-ovulation twinges. Just my luck that I had everything all lined up for my IUI today. Not only that, but I actually went through with it! I got up early, ran around to different doctors and even to our insurance provider to get the appropriate forms. B did his part perfectly. It was that much more depressing when I got to my doctor (who just got back from vacation and squeezed me in her packed schedule) and saw nothing on the ultrasound.

I hate ultrasounds when there’s nothing good to see. There’s a silence coming from the wander, i.e. the one weilding that all powerful wand. When I miscarried, the wander said nothing and I knew. Today instead of seeing a large follicle or even a corpus luteum, all I saw was a pathetic cyst. And there was nothing to say. Just that wand searching to land on something. Both times I had to break the silence because I knew how sad my situation was to those wanding me. It was me fast talking both to cover up my disappointment with my body.

I know it’s bizarre to get this upset by one month of not ovulating. I just figured I had this problem solved already. I spent the whole day trying to get over this because it’s really not a tragedy. I finally realized there’s no point in fighting it and broke down. I also realized that I starved myself today so B went around to 3 different places trying to find food which would make me happy. He’s a really good person for cheering me up when I’m being a big jerk. 

My doctor’s appointment ended with her actually doing the IUI because it was too pathetic not to. I mean, what was she going to do? Take the sperm that took 2 hours to prepare and just dump it? I even left smiling and thanking her. Ridiculous. The whole day was almost laughable. I hope tomorrow is better.  

1 comment August 22, 2007

It’s that Clomid time of the month

Unfortunately, this past cycle was a bust. I’ll cross “vacation sex” off the list of things we’ve tried in this saga. As usual, I wasn’t really surprised because I wasn’t feeling anything too strongly during the 2 week wait. I tried desperately to see a second line on my HPTs but there was nothing. I was sad but not crying, that is until my sister-in-law called me and then the waterworks wouldn’t shut off! Until then I had been doing so well and all at once I was a mess. The experience was a bit worrisome as I don’t usually have trouble stopping to cry. I later found out on Dr. Google that many people find depression to be a side effect of progesterone supplements. I don’t know if they’re the ones behind it, but those progesterone guys are evil. For half of the month I feel completely not myself and don’t even realize how bad it is until I can get off of them.

I couldn’t wait to talk to my Dr. and figure out our game plan for this next cycle. Too bad she’s on vacay. She’ll be returning the day I predict to be the big O day, ovulation that is. So unbeknowst to her, I’ll be showing up on that day with a tube of B’s men and it will be IUI time!

——————————————————-

I actually started this post a while ago and then abandoned it. Sorry post. I haven’t done any ultrasound monitoring this month, I’m just going to plan IUI day based on the past few months’ ovulation time. I’ve been feeling my pre-ovulation pangs so I hope things are progressing as usual.

In other news, I’m finding it harder and harder not to want to choke my sister. I don’t actually want to hurt her, just shake her a little bit. She recently announced her pregnancy and instantaneously turned into one of those “I got pg on my first try” type of people. She has no qualms about asking me why I haven’t commented about how big her boobs are getting. Hasn’t even asked what’s going on with me. It’s not such a shocker as she sometimes misses key points in sensitivity but then she said something which left me dumbfounded. She said my mother planned on flying in and staying with her when her baby is due. I know logically this is a normal thing for a woman who swoons over babies she doesn’t even know to do, but I just didn’t think about the implications for our whole family. I know I need to face up to it but it’s a lot more intimidating than I anticipated.

Throughout all of this, I have also been relying on my sister to help us find an apartment. Turns out, we’re getting kicked out by the beginning of October. I thought that if I relied on her to help me and felt grateful for her help it could fix my feelings of resentment towards her. We actually saw an apartment on Friday, with her help, which was perfect! The only issue was the rent which we can’t afford, so there went all the good will towards my sister.

The good thing about the summer is that it’s totally insane at work. It’s leaving me little to no time to obsess about all this crap. The past couple weeks have really flown by. I can’t believe I’m planning the IUI for this week already. Of course, the first 2 weeks on the cycle always fly by quickly, it’s the last 2 which are the killer. This time I’ll be in the States visiting for a bit of it so hopefully that will help.

In the meantime, I’ve been rocking the brazilian! This past week I cried more when my cosmetician attacked my eyebrows (it was jungle fever and she freaked out on them) then when she was down below. I feel like I’m making real progress in that department. Now I need to find something else to wax, I’m thinking of going armpit but I may have to wait until winter. Goodtimes.

Add a comment August 18, 2007

Back from vacay

In addition to all the stupid, insensitive advice that people offer comes the trite saying “go on vacation and you’ll get knocked up”. Maybe it doesn’t go exactly like that, but you know what I mean. Well, B and I just came back from our vacation and I must say, as much as I hate listening to advice, it totally mellowed us out in terms of this conceiving crap. We have yet to see if vacay does indeed produce a baby, but at least it got me to stop counting cycle days.

It was so great to be away. We didn’t do anything too exotic, just visited with family and friends, but it was totally rejuvenating. Visiting the US of A after being away for over a year was a bit overwhelming. I was suddenly nervous that my clothes would look hopelessly out of date and I couldn’t get over the size of potato chip bags! Everything in Israel is mini and I didn’t realize how used to it I was until I ventured outside. Everything in Israel also costs a fortune so this trip was all about stocking up on essentials like ziploc bags and pure vanilla extract. I almost forgot to buy PG tests (I was that “relaxed”!) but luckily I remembered at the last second that it’s an expensive habit in Israel, especially with a mortgage.

Also, I have a mortgage. I’m quietly freaking out about it. Still not so sure that it’s real because we don’t have to start payments for another few months. I’ve very excited but I’ve definitely sprouted a few more grey hairs since signing my life away for a house that’s not even built yet. It’s an amazing feeling to be a homeowner. Or dirt owner I should say, as the house won’t be ready for 2 years. The only uncomfortable fact is that we have no one to really fill said house. B and I have agreed that if we are still childless (it pains me to write that word) we’re going to sell the house and hopefully make some money off of it.

I’m ambivalent about buying something when it doesn’t fit our needs. Will it make me depressed when it’s ready because we still won’t belong there? The timeline for the house has been set and now we’re trying to fit ourselves into it. I’m a big believer that timing is God’s way of getting His laughs. I have friends with tiny apartments bursting with kids unable to afford to move into a house and then my Uncle and Aunt with a gorgeous New England house with 4 extra bedrooms and no children. People who go broke trying to get pregnant who then end up with twins and can’t pay their bills. The point is, I don’t believe that all of a sudden my life is going to conform to fit the perfect picture of a home and children. The question is, what do I do now? Will every month that I don’t conceive contribute to the countdown of when the house will be ready?

I know I should just shut-up and be grateful we can even buy this house. I would never say these thoughts out loud, but they just sprang up as I sat down to type. No one would even know all this was lurking inside of me. If asked, I’m sure most people think I’m one of those happy-go-lucky types. The only crack in my veneer is when I cry uncontrolably at cheesy, reality tv. Obviously, my weakest spot is for “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition”, but last night I found myself sobbing at “The Biggest Loser”! That’s when I realized how much this is taking a toll on me. Still, it’s cheaper than paying someone to watch me cry. Therapy tv, I think I might be onto something.

  

Add a comment July 19, 2007

Top ten signs AF is on the way

10. I can play connect-the-dots with my cluster of zits that have settled nicely on my chin.

9. I have to wear my fat pants to fit over my bloated belly.

8. Someone accidentally brushed by my right boob and it felt like a mamogram. (I haven’t actually ever had one of those but apparently they hurt like hell.)

7. In addition to hurting, I’m getting “double boob” where my breasts start coming out the tops of my bra.

6. I started crying in the first three minutes of “Extreme Makover: Home Edition”. I usually save my hiccuping cries until the end but last night all it took was the opening credits. (The husband was blind and the nicest guy ever!)

5. I’ve been experiencing major hot flashes. Granted I live in the Middle East where there is a massive heat wave at the moment and granted I have no air conditioning at home but still! I know my hot flashes. 

4. I did two loads of laundry and hung up most of my clothes last night. For me this constitutes a cleaning spree. This isn’t usually one of my pms symptoms but it is for my best friend whom I lived with for years. She was just in for a visit and I believe that’s what caused the transference of this to me.

3. I am eating potato chips, pickles and twix bars at an alarming rate. These sweet and salty cravings are taking over my life.

2. I quit shoving those progesterone suppositories inside of me (which were delaying the inevitable flow) because…

1. My beta HCG from Sunday was zero.

I really cried hard at that one. I found out around 2:30pm on Sunday afternoon while at work. It was really hard to keep the tears in all day. If I wasn’t thinking about holding them back, my eyes would start to tear up without warning. Finally, at the end of a really long, draining day I made my way home and as soon as my key unlocked my apartment door it triggered a major waterfall. I’ve had cries where I’ve felt I was pitying myself or ones where I tried to talk myself out of it, but this was just crying with total abandon. It was a far better expression of my feelings than I could have done with words. The thought of blogging what I was feeling couldn’t come close what my tired, messy, hot, and sad tears could do.

And yet, today is Thursday and I’m trucking. I spoke to the Dr. today who seemed genuinely surprised that the IUI didn’t work. We agreed to try again with the IUI next month but since I’ll be in the States for a visit we may miss the all important ovulation time. There’s always the chance we could just “go natural” and have it work but I think I’m too cynical to believe that’s a real possibility.

Add a comment June 28, 2007

False Alarm

Turns out the shot I took to stimulate ovulation was Pregnyl which contains HCG. The same HCG which made my pregnancy tests have faint light pink lines even though I’m not preg. In order to get an accurate reading I have to wait until 14 days after ovulation which means I wasted a crapload of money on HPTs this week. Goodtimes.

Last night after taking purple toy car test (see last post for explanation) and seeing another faint pink line I was strangely not excited. It was weird. I usually only know crushing disappointment after taking these tests so I assumed I would feel elated to actually see something positive. Instead I felt kind of numb. Like this was a joke being played on me. I mean, really, me pregnant. Ha.

This morning I woke up to take another brand of test. The same brand that gave me a negative the day before. It was a negatory again but this time I actually read the instructions which informed me of the false hope Pregnyl can bring. So obviously I went on “the google” to confirm. Then I took a look at myself and just felt so pathetic. There I was yawning like crazy, my eyes crusty from sleep while googling at the speed of light. It reminded me of the night before’s google session when I found a website which asked “Are you addicted to pregnancy tests?” and instead of laughing I felt an immediate sense of kinship! What the hell?! I am so done with HPTs.

Add a comment June 21, 2007

Searching for a pink line

I was very proud of myself last week for not succumbing to the pull of the drugstore to buy home pregnancy tests. Last night, I caved. I’ve been having restless dreams at night, torturing myself wondering if I am or not. The truth is, I haven’t felt any real symptoms. The only thing I am feeling is fat but I’m calling it “bloated” and blaming it on the progesterone suppositories which are taking over my life. The act of shoving something up my hoo-ha is one thing, but the truly gross thing is how they leak out of me the next day. I feel like I’m constantly peeing in my pants. It’s lovely.

 Getting on with it, so I bought the HPTs yesterday. I got 2 different kinds. One claimed to be so sensitive I could test 9 days post-ovulation (which I was yesterday), the other was able to be read after 10 days. So I took the 9 day test and saw nothing. I was a little deflated but quickly remembered that it’s still very early to test. After a bit I looked again and thought I saw a faint glimmer of pink. There I was holding my pee stained stick up to the light at different angles to read it better. I tried getting B into the fun, but he won’t let himself feel hope and excitement until we see an actual baby. I understand and admire that actually, it’s just not in my nature to be able to be that logical. Anyway, I was getting really frustrated at not being able to read this test so I decided to break it open. It’s not as crazy as it sounds. This test is an Israeli brand test which is a strip of paper enclosed by a light purple plastic shell which snaps together much like those free plastic cars that used to come in boxes of Rice Krispies. I was so good at putting those together that I recognized immediately how easy I could pop open the purple protective covering and get to the all important strip. And get to it I did. And then I saw it. There was definitely a light line in addition to the control line. But wait! The only problem is that the instructions said not to read results after 20 minutes and it was after 20 minutes when I decided to go into the garbage and break open the test. As much as I tried ignoring it, I couldn’t stop but stare at it until I began to wonder if I actually willed the very, very light pink line there.

Thankfully, I had another test to try. I forced myself to wait until this morning to take it but then I woke up at 4am and knew there was no way I could go back to sleep without an answer. So I broke out test #2 and somehow managed to aim and pee on the stick at that ungodly hour. Unfortunately, it was a big fat negative. Not even a hint of a pink line. Even hours later when I pulled it out of the garbage. On a side note: I should probably stop doing that.

I didn’t know how I would be able to concentrate for the rest of the day, but luckily my job requires me speaking with people about their issues so I’m forced to consider that maybe the world doesn’t revolve around me. Two more hours to go until I can buy more tests. I’ve decided to get another purple toy car as well as the 10 test and maybe one more to mix things up. Maybe this month I’ll just turn my entire paycheck over to the drugstore and we can call it even.

Add a comment June 20, 2007

IUI Time

So there’s the natural way to get pregnant and then there’s the way I spent this past Friday. Here’s a recap:

7:00am – Wake up after not really sleeping the night before. Look over at B who hasn’t even been pretending to sleep.

7:05am – Prepare our sterile vessel in which to collect B’s “man juice”. Serile vessel is actually more commonly used for collecting urine and ours had the romantic name of “uricup”. 

7:20am – Spermies are in! I secure uricup between my stomach and the waistband of my jeans. I thought the lab told me they needed to be on my skin to keep warm, turns out it only needed to be near my skin. They had a good laugh at me later, whatever.

7:45am – Get to the street where the lab is supposedly located. Am stupidly wearing a sweatshirt and can’t stop sweating as I walk up and down the street trying to find the godforsaken lab.

7:55am – Find the lab! Feel very proud of myself.

8:15am – Lab tech asks where the sample is. Pat my uricup protectively to show her it’s hiding underneath my shirt, she totally smirks. Am told to come back in 3 hours.

8:30am – Go to medical center to get shot in my butt.

9:00am – Nurse shoots me in the butt with Pregnyl to stimulate ovulation. I don’t usually have a problem with needles but this one was a killer. It was long and extremely painful and left my poor tush throbbing. Also left me a little spinny and nauseous.

9:10am – Ran into a friend in the waiting room. Chatted while keeping my hand on my ass to try and console it.

9:20am – Walk to dry cleaners. Not sure what I was thinking as I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and it was a million degrees. Dry cleaner was extra nice to me, probably because I was panting and dripping with sweat.

10am – Return home with dry cleaning and sore butt. B’s finally sleeping. Collapse on couch and space out in front of tv.

11am – Call lab, spermies will be ready in 15 minutes.

11:15 – Collect spermies. Find out B has GREAT swimmers with a 94% motility rate. It seemed like the best swimmers they’ve seen in a long time. I guess most people who go there have sperm issues, whatever it was, we totally won the gold medal.

11:30 – With a vial of sperm tucked into my bra (they told to put it there this time), I call substitute Doctor to meet me at usual Doctor’s office. Usual Doctor (she would be the aforementioned “New Doc”) was giving a conference and therefore had to send in a replacement.

12:00pm – Meet the sub, who turns out to be a man, and am happy I just had a brazilian. Man doc happens to be an IUI and IVF expert and is very happy to answer all of my annoying questions.

12:20pm – I spread ’em and am cranked open by a speculum. Again, thankfull that I am a hairless wonder. Doc takes a catheter which looks like a long bendy needle, and sucks up all the precious swimmers. I then had the very weird sensation of something going into my cervix. It wasn’t painful just very, very strange. Like, shouldn’t that be a place where things like needles aren’t allowed? He then had me stay there for 15 minutes and told me the little ones would reach their destination within minutes. Unbelieveable.

By the time I got home I was a crazy mix of adrenaline rush and exhaustion. I used the opportunity to stay on my back with my legs up. Upon reflecting on the day I realized how bizarre it was that we are so proud when something is genetically “right” with us even though we’ve done nothing to deserve it. Also my substitute doc told me that based on the quality of the spermies, IVF shouldn’t be an option for me until I’ve done 6 rounds of IUI. This statement was prompted by one of my relentless questions, but still made me feel confident that IVF is a far away place. In the end, the odds for an IUI working aren’t that much better than the natural way but at least IUI is no longer an unknown for me.  While I’m not jumping to do it again, I can definitely handle it. I told B that I no longer felt like a lightweight in the infertility game. Sometimes after reading blogs of people who have undergone so many invasive procedures, I feel almost embarrased that all I’ve had to do so far is pop a bunch of pills. No longer! I feel officially inducted into the world of infertility. Strangely, it doesn’t feel depressing but empowering. I know we will be on the other side of this and when we do at least I’ll have a war story to share.

Until then, it’s the 2 week wait. Kill me.

3 comments June 11, 2007

New Doc

Well it’s been quite a while since I last posted. During my hiatus I spent some quality time with my crazy family over Passover. We laughed, made fun of each other, tried on each other’s clothes (I have 3 sisters and we’re all almost the same size) and ate way too much. I loved every second.

My plan to take a break from the blood tests and ultrasounds totally backfired. I ended up having a 53 day cycle and wasting tons of money on home pregnancy tests. Clearly it was not meant to be. In other sad news, my sister miscarried. It’s bad enough to miscarry once before you have your first child, this is truly a killer.

As for myself, I bounced back as I always do. There’s always the low point when I think “this is the cycle from which I will never recover” and then miraculously I do. Sometimes it bothers me that I’m so predictable in that regard but I guess if I was walking around sobbing everytime I saw a pregnant woman, people would start pitying me more than they do now. Not that I’m experiencing it too much, but yesterday a friend told me of someone we both know who “just feels so bad for me” and wants me to go dunking in the mikva (ritual bath) with someone she knows because it’ll help me get pregnant. Am I so pathetic that I need to share a private moment with someone I don’t even know? (Ok, actually, I do know this pregnant person in question, I just really don’t like her.) Also, I totally don’t believe in that crap! I hate being the person that everyone feels bad for. Especially because so many times those people doling out pity are usually the ones who actually need it.

Anyway! The point is: I went to a new Doc today. I met her through my sister-in-law, who by the way,  just went for an amnio and is anxiously awaiting the results. I love love love this new Doc. She was understanding, made eye contact and treated me as an intellectual equal. She made the whole Doctoring thing look so effortless that I was completely at ease. I only got choked up once and didn’t even shed any tears – woohoo! She saw that I have 1 large follicle and 2 other smaller ones, and said worst case I could have twins. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This cycle is all about taking one step at a time. I’m going back on Wednesday morning for her to give me a shot and then we’ll take it from there. I haven’t officially broken it off with my other Doc but I will. In the meantime,  I don’t mind cheating on her. Thankfully she has enough patients that I won’t be missed.

In other sad news, my very good friend’s sister-in-law went into premature labor at 24 weeks and gave birth to twins, neither of whom survived. Her brother is a cancer survivor and his wife suffered a miscarriage last year. I can’t figure out what’s going on in life. Just when I think I have some perspective and feel older and wisened something like this happens to just shatter it all.  

1 comment May 7, 2007

The following is inspired by my nephew

The Tale of the Green Poo

What you are about to read is 100% true. I might not have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes.

Meet Yair. Yair is 6 years old. He has 3 older brothers and a new baby on the way, but that’s another story. Yair loves to dance to any music. He likes Spiderman and Ninjas. He takes Judo classes and can tie his own Judo belt. One thing that makes Yair very unique is that he has a lot of thoughts running through his head. Sometimes he has so many ideas he gets distracted from things he has to do, like getting dressed for school. It’s a good thing his Mom knows this about him and reminds him to get back on track.

Our story took place not too long ago in his house in Modiin. His Aunt and Uncle came to visit and brought with them a lot of treats. Luckily, Yair doesn’t have a weight problem so he can enjoy lots of sugary snacks. It all began with a pack of sour sticks.

“Look!” Yair excitedly said, “I can use my sour stick as a straw.” Yair demonstrated by placing his green sour stick in a cup of water and slurping it all up.

As Yair found other uses for his sour sticks, he managed to eat through an entire pack of the candy. Even though his brothers were also eating sour sticks, no one ate quite as many as Yair. In fact his Aunt said, “Yair, your tongue is green!”

I guess we should have known then that something weird was to come.

Then next day, Yair had a bit of a tummy ache. He got dressed in his blazer, which made him feel like a businessman. He spent the whole day talking and playing and imagining all the while noticing that his tummy was really, really hurting.

Finally, Yair decided it was time to go to the bathroom. When Yair goes to the bathroom he usually shuts the door and takes off all his clothes. As he sat on the toilet and made a poo his tummy started feeling much better. After he was done he glanced into the toilet bowl and couldn’t believe what he saw – his poo was green!

He blinked twice and looked again. He was sure of it- it was really green. His mom and dad weren’t home so he called for his brothers. Since they were outside playing they couldn’t hear him. Instead his Aunt called up to him, “What do you need Yair?”

“Well, I can’t really say,” Yair answered back.

His Aunt came upstairs to see what was going on. She walked down the hall to the bathroom and knocked on the door. Yair opened the door a crack and stuck out his head. It was very clear he wasn’t wearing any clothes.

“What’s wrong Yair?” his Aunt asked.

“My poo is GREEN!” Yair answered.

“Are you sure? Let me have a look,” his Aunt replied.

“Well… I’m not really dressed.” Yair hesitantly said.

“Here,” his Aunt said handing him a towel “why don’t you use this to cover yourself”.

He did and opened the door to let her in.

“Look!” Yair said, pointing into the toilet.

His Aunt peered into the toilet and to her astonishment Yair’s poo really was green! His Aunt started making a funny face, like she was trying not to laugh. She then called for his Uncle Ben.

“Ben!!” She yelled, “Get in here now!”

Yair waited patiently for his Uncle Ben to have a look. Yair’s Uncle Ben was an expert farter so Yair figured he would know what to do. But Uncle Ben just scratched his head and said he didn’t know what to make of it.

Yair and his Aunt discussed all the green food he could have eaten and figured out it was probably all the sour sticks. They both kept looking into the toilet bowl in disbelief that his poo was really green. They also decided that it looked very much like a bluish green.

Later that night Yair’s Mom and Dad came home. His Mom said this happened once before when Yair was small and ate a crayon. His Dad is a tummy doctor and said green was a safe color for poo.
Maybe it was the sour sticks, maybe Yair secretly ate another crayon. Whatever it was, Yair was hoping there would not be any more green poo again.

2 comments March 26, 2007

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