BFN and then....

So I got my blood test this morning to confirm my non-pregnant status. The nurse told me to expect a call confirming my negative result after 2:30 and then they'd call in my Provera prescription. My phone rang around three and the nurse says, "Well, you're not pregnant...however..."

Wait!! What??!! There's a however?! What could the however possibly be?

"You ovulated." What?! My cycle day 12 ultrasound revealed many, unfortunately tiny eggs. I humored the doctor with a cycle day 20 ultrasound just to be sure, only to find even more unfortunately tiny eggs. And now on cycle day 32, you're telling me that, lo and behold, 100 mg of Clomid actually worked but too late for any of us to actually notice?!

Motherf%cker.

"You have to wait another week to see if your period arrives naturally, come in for another pregnancy test and then we can give you the Provera." Arrggghh....hell! I flash back to the past week or so....could I even be pregnant? No. I got wicked sunburn last week, on my inner thighs no less, and so sex was so not happening. I don't have a shot at being pregnant. And now I just have to wait another stupid week to get the ball rolling (I know, I know, it's a lesson in patience, blah blah blah, I don't wanna hear it right now).

I don't actually say any of that. My response is more along the lines of "Okay, thanks."

Here's the weird thing. I'm actually annoyed that I ovulated. I know what you're thinking, I should be grateful. But this is my blog so I get to be honest. I'm annoyed. For a couple reasons. First, we missed the big O so I never got to have the IUI. That part makes me want to kick my ovaries for d!cking around for the first 20 days. Second, and I've been pondering this part for awhile, (insert my whispering voice here) I don't think the Clomid is my answer. I don't know why. It's just a gut thing. I don't think Clomid is what's meant to give me a baby. I have no real rationale for this nor medical expertise, it's just my big hunch. And so I'm kind of aggravated because this means I have to spend more time taking Clomid since it actually did its job and made me ovulate. I have to spend more time on the treatment that I don't believe is the answer for me. I had already changed my mindset to one more month of Clomid and then moving on to the next step. I had done all of my reading up on injectables and had my game face on.

Now, I don't need anyone to leave me comments about how I'm negative and I should be counting my blessings. I know and I'm counting. I know that the fact that the Clomid worked is medically a good thing. I know the risks of injectables, especially with PCOS. It's just that I had already processed and accepted the fact that the Clomid didn't work. I'm a planner and I had already made my plan. Planners are not impressed when they have to change their plans. I had moved on from this cycle. And now....I have to make sense of things again.

OK, God. I understand that I don't get to control everything. Point made. And I guess thank you for the pleasant surprise of ovulation. I'm sorry it's taking me awhile to appreciate it. I promise to be on board with your plan by next week.

Inspiration...or maybe not

What seems impossible is not. Remember when your brother gave you his Rubik's cube with all the colors mixed, and you worked relentlessly for months to solve it to prove, without a doubt, you were the smartest one in the family? Were you really the smartest or the most tenacious? Pregnancy is the same way - it requires persistence. You just have to keep at it, twisting and turning and hoping that one month all the colors will align.
~ Conception Chronicles

There's only one problem...I've never actually managed to solve a Rubik's cube.


So my second cycle of Clomid appears to be a bust. At my cycle day 12 ultrasound, my largest follicle was 8 mm and my uterine lining was only 4 mm. The doctor is going to check me again on day 20 just to be sure, but he's not very hopeful and, frankly, neither am I. I guess this isn't the month when all my colors align. F*ck you, Rubik's cube.

Artifici-what?!

April 18th~ I went in for an CD 12 ultrasound to see if the Clomid was working. I had completed my first round of 50 mgs. The nurse calls me back into a room and chats with me about my side effects...a few hot flashes, some head rushes, a bit of teariness and a ton of imsomnia. Then she randomly says, "And are you going ahead with the artificial insemination?" in a very polite voice.

".....What?" is all I manage.

"Well, Dr. VanBabymaker suggested an artificial insemination. Are you going to go ahead with that?"

My brain quickly rewinds back a few days to my HSG. A different RE had done the procedure and had brought up artificial insemination. But....the way he had brought it up was more like, "Hey, do you think we should get pizza for lunch?" He said it so casually that I hadn't really given it much thought....like it was a possibility for further down the road but nothing more. Also, I'm still worried about step one. Did I ovulate? I haven't even really thought about a possible step two.

I explain to the nurse that mentally I haven't really gotten that far and just want to see if I'm even going to ovulate and then I'll talk with the doctor about artificial insemination.

My regular RE, Dr. PacMan comes in, performs the ultrasound and no ovulation. Disappointing, but not that surprising for only the first round of Clomid. One ovary has no follies. The other one has about 20 (!!) but they're all very small. He says to come back on CD 17 and we'll check again. Dr. PacMan asks about the artificial insemination. I want to say yes, I'm in, but I'm hesitant because I have to talk with my husband about this first. I mean, right? I'm not supposed to just decide that on my own, especially when my husband has to do his thing for the procedure. I tell them probably and that I'll let them know as soon as I talk with my husband.

Fast forward to April 23rd and my CD 17 ultrasound. Eight in the morning and I'm sitting in the waiting room. First off, I am hungry. I realized yesterday that we still hadn't done some insulin test that my doctor had wanted during my first consult. He couldn't do it back then because I hadn't fasted. I spoke with the RE office yesterday, who suggested I go ahead and fast so that if Dr. PacMan wants the test done, we can just do it that day. I know it's only 8 a.m. but I'm a creature of habit and so I'm already hungry. Second, I am freaking out because, for some reason, the office was reeeeally backed up with their appointments. Normally, I'm called back to a room within 5-10 minutes of my scheduled appointment. I wasn't called back until 8:25. I have to be to work at 8:40. Today, the nurse practitioner, Tracy, is going to see me. She introduces herself, tells me to get undressed and she'll be back in a couple minutes. I practically jump out of my clothes, hop up on the table, cover up with the drape and then sit there impatiently for the next ten minutes. Grrrrr...now it's almost 8:40.

Fiiiiinally, she comes back. I throw myself back on the table and put my legs up in the stirrups all in one fluid motion. I moved with the never-before-discovered-in-me grace of a gazelle. The ultrasound reveals well over 20 follies on one side and well over 20 follies on the other side!.....but they're all tiny. Sigh.

I get dressed and meet nurse practitioner Tracy in the hall. As we finish up our conversation and I'm about to leave, she says, "I see that you and your husband declined artificial insemination?" Declined? Not exactly. I tell her my husband and I are on board for artificial insemination...and a pizza.

Olly Olly Oxen Free!

Mid-March~ second batch of progesterone is complete.... where are you, period? Hello? Can you hear me? Are you anywhere in the vicinity? This may be a good spot to insert a visual of me doubled over trying to talk up into my nanny hoo hoo...strictly for comedic purposes. Come out, come out, where ever you are, my monthly (actually not so much) friend! I've got 50 milligrams of Clomid waiting on you.

And nothing. No period. And it scared the crap out of me. I'm so broken that the medicine to fix me won't work?? And how the hell am I supposed to start the Clomid?

The 10% deep-down-keep-it-to-myself part of my brain that was worried something might be wrong with my body grew to inhabit about 40% of my brain. I finally asked myself the scary question. Is it time to call the reproductive endocrinologist?

To consider an RE is to admit there is a problem with my inner workings. Generally, women see an RE after a year of trying to conceive or if there's a problem before the one year mark. Was I ready to acknowledge the elephant standing in my living room? The elephant that hadn't ovulated since October?

With a deep sigh, I picked up the phone.

Clomid, will you be my Valentine?

I spent Valentine's Day with my gynecologist. If I can be completely honest, it wasn't as romantic a holiday as I was hoping for (I blame it on the speculum sitting on the counter beside me). My gyno had previously hoped the first batch of progesterone would get me right on track and then it would be clear sailing. But I was back in the office with my crappy chart on Valentine's. To celebrate, my doc had also brought my crappy bloodwork results. I hadn't ovulated.

The gyno was still positive. I'd take the progesterone again to start a new cycle, I'd start Clomid, we'd throw in some more bloodwork. Honestly, 90% of my brain was thinking, "I'm just having issues from being on the pill so long." The other 10%, the deep-down-keep-it-to-myself part, was starting to freak out. What if it's a real problem? What if it's not just from coming off the pill?

We wrapped up the appointment with a solid plan and I headed up to the front desk with my check out paper from the doctor in hand. I stopped dead in my tracks about halfway there. Under "Reason for Visit", my doctor had checked off "Infertility".

It actually took my breath away....like I was punched in the stomach. One little check in a teeny tiny box stopped my world on its axis for just a moment. Really??!! You're already calling it infertility?? We're already calling it infertility?? I'm not ready to call it that.

I got in my car and just sat there, the word infertile bouncing around in the empty silence. And then, I got angry at my gynecologist. Like I wanted to go back in that office and, in front of his patients, yell at him. The only words I could come up with were f*ck you with some c'mons and seriouslys thrown in. I decided that would not be a very wise choice. Instead I went home, feeling angry and sad about a little check in a teeny tiny box.