We were getting ready to move to our new house. I had bought a glass-top coffee table to go in my conceived, ultra-hip contemporary living room we were going to have. One evening after work, I saw my new coffee table and had a meltdown. I stared at the coffee table and just sobbed for hours. Finally, I called my mother and bawled to her about how I'd never be able to adopt because we'd never pass a home inspection with a glass coffee table. There was no reasoning with me. I was adamant that I had ruined any chance of ever adopting because of this coffee table and there was no sending it back, because I had bought it on sale. My mother, who is a retired social worker, tried to console me by telling me social workers aren't worried about your furniture during a home inspection, but with dogmatic conviction I proceeded to argue with her that yes they did. I could never provide a safe home...At the time it all seemed to be a rational response and made total sense. So ladies on clomid, it's best to refrain from making any important decisions such as paint colors, furniture, or even what to wear without help because of its potential to induce nuclear meltdowns.
I went in for my first ultrasound (US) and bloodwork on the 11th day of this cycle. My right ovary was apparently taking the month off, but my left did have a few follicles. Unfortunately, they were too small to be very promising. A few hours later (and this is how it goes from here on out) the nurse practitioner calls you and lets you know when you need to come back in again and what you need to do with your medications. Because of my lack of progress on such a large dose, my doctor wanted to try a step protocol, and he had me take 100 mg of Clomid for 8 more miserable, waking up in the middle of the night, behaving like a raving lunatic days.
I had my next set of labs the day of prom. (I'm a faculty advisor for the prom committee.) My right ovary was still on vacation, but my left had 2 large follicles. They measured between 22-25 mm, which is large enough to be considered mature. After a quick lesson on how to give myself my Pregnyl injection (medication to trigger ovulation), she sent me off and told me she would call me shortly with instructions. I drove back to help finish decorating absolutely elated. I was truly happy for the first time since right after my surgery. I felt hopeful.
But alas, the nurse called with not good news. My blood work indicated that I had already ovulated and they would not do the IUI because it would be a waste of my money. (You only have 24 hours after ovulation to fertilize the egg, and they had no way of knowing when exactly I had ovulated.) Dr. D's partner called me a little later to check on me and encouraged me to make a follow-up (a de-briefing would be more descriptive) appointment. So just like that, it was all over, and I had 0% chance of having a baby this month. Talk about emotional whip-lash. There I was with rolls of multi-colored mesh, seashells, and Chinese lanterns bawling my eyes out yet again...
Thanks to some amazing friends who just happen to be co-workers, I was able to pick myself back up and get through prom. I even managed to not lynch the pregnant student who had sobbed in my office for a half hour because her prom dress no longer fit. No lie...She even came over to show me how a seamstress used the material from the hem to increase the side seam. Thanks a-lot, MTV...
|Having to cover up some red-eye, but blessed to work with these amazing people!|