I spent a good portion of last week in Iowa. Being that I'm a native Minnesotan, I can safely say that I hate Iowa. The land of cornfields...Idiots Out Walking Around...you get the picture. I was "fortunate" enough to stay at the Holiday Inn near downtown Des Moines. Apparently, this Holiday Inn books up like a Las Vegas Hotel during Convention Week. There wasn't a spare room at the inn, so to speak. I arrived down there at 8:30 on Wednesday night and checked into my room. I was on the top floor, which pleased me and I was put at the end of the hall, which pleased me more. However, as I entered my room, I was hit with a blast of frigid air. Working quickly to identify the source, I note that my window is open, sans screen, and I'm ten floors above street level. Code violation! Code violation! I call down to the front desk, requesting that they remedy the problem since I couldn't figure out how to close the window. Instead, they brought me a space heater. The formidable housekeeper was also able to slam my window shut (almost) but it was open just enough to allow a draft and the noise of the highway into the room. Ugh. Still, the space heater proved to be a lifesaver, as it quickly brought the room up to a satisfying and sweltering 85 degrees and provided just enough background noise to allow sleep to overtake me.
So, I wake up the next morning and turn on the news. I usually lay in bed for a few minutes, take my temperature, check my email, and make sure I didn't miss anything important while I was sleeping. As I'm lying in bed, a commercial comes on the television. A young couple is seen, getting busy in a darkened room when there's a knock at the door. The couple initially ignores the knock and goes about their biz-nass only to be interrupted again. The woman gets up to answer the door, and there's a stork there, wearing a Baby Bjorn, complete with infant. The message of the commercial "Ninety-Nine out of One Hundred Couples Who Practice Unsafe Sex Will Become Pregnant." It's a good (and scary) message. Is it true? Eh.
According to Colonel Sanders (er...Dr. Rhodes), you're only able to get pregnant thirty-six hours out of every month. If you take an average calendar month of thirty days, that's 720 hours. Therefore, you can only get pregnant 5% of the month. The remaining 95% of the month is safe. Kind of crazy statistics, huh? Granted, if (and when) Jeff and I are ever blessed with children, they will be raised with the message that, not only can you get an STD 100% of the time when you practice unsafe sex, but you can get pregnant twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year. No sense in throwing statistics at them they can't (or perhaps can) comprehend easily. Still, when looking at the facts, you can understand why conception is called "a miracle" because in actuality, it's a statistical improbability.
However, let's take someone like me. I haven't ovulated since June. We know that. So, let's assume that I'm on a six month ovulation-rotation. There are 8,760 hours in a year. If I ovulated twice this year, that means that I have less than a 1% chance of getting pregnant. FML.
Which brings me to the present. Today is my first day on Clomid. I woke up this morning and popped the pill. I'm waiting for my miracle now. The idea behind Clomid is that it should turn me into an ovulating machine I should resemble a Las Vegas Slot Machine that hit the jackpot. In theory. In actuality, I have no clue if it's going to work. However, I will say that I took the pill a little over three hours ago and I haven't wanted to strangle anyone yet, so I guess that's progress.
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