The Unbearable Lightness of Blonde
My (sometimes) daily musings and random stories while my husband and I struggle to get pregnant.
Friday, June 19, 2015
Lather, Rinse, Repeat
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Little Victories
Turns out, Clomid works. I know that my odds of getting pregnant this month are still slim, but at least I have something to work with. At least we know that I respond to Clomid. And this is the little victory I'm grateful for.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The Week of Highs and Lows
Monday, November 22, 2010
"C" is for Clomid...That's Good Enough for Me...
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A Departure from the Norm...I Think
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Baby Steps
Unfortunately, Tuesday was no better. I went to the deli in my building to order a sandwich and there was a woman in front of me with an ass so big, it should have had it's own zip code. I'm not even exaggerating that. I almost pulled out my phone to take a picture of it so I could submit it to Ripley's Believe it or Not.
In addition to the incredible amount of space this entity occupied, it's owner could not concentrate on the task before her. She could not order a sandwich if her life depended on it. It was the most obvious case of ADHD I have ever personally witnessed. I stayed behind her in line for about five minutes, listening to her start her order, "I'll have a turke......." and then my email ping sounded and she had to figure out what the noise was. Then, "I'll have a chick...." Only to hear someone laugh behind her and she had to check that out as well. She also had to turn around numerous times, mouth agape, to stare at all the people in line behind her. To me, it was as if she was actually enjoying holding up everyone's lunch break. The deli employee assisting her was being extraordinarily patient.
Finally, another clerk came up to the second cash register and asked if he could help me. The ass obstacle was in my way, so I attempted to sidle around it, only to have it check me in the gut. She didn't apologize. I attempted again to skirt around Butt Mountain. This time, I got nailed in the hip. At this point, I politely begged the pardon of the ass (and it's owner) and motioned to the second employee, standing there, and indicated I would like to get up to the lunch counter. Apparently, she had been saving all her focus for the death stare she shot at me, telling me, quite snidely, that it was her turn and I should learn to be patient.
Now, I was pretty hefty at one point in my life. Granted, I didn't feel as though I needed to register my ass as its own township, but I remain sensitive to the weight struggles of many Americans. But, at this point, I'm hungry, hormonal, and more than a little fed up with the ass entitlement antics on display from this individual.
I'll just say this: It was delicious.
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Clomid Connection
Because we haven't gotten pregnant yet, I made an appointment to see my friendly neighborhood fertility specialist, Dr. Rhodes. I think he looks like Colonel Sanders. I debated whether I should even attend the appointment, thinking I was behaving irrationally or that my decision to discuss fertility options was premature.
I'm so glad I went.
He took one look at my temperature chart and told me that he saw no signs of ovulation. I've been stuck in the "twilight" of my monthly cycle, meaning that I haven't ovulated since my miscarriage. So, the next step is ovulation therapy.
I really have mixed emotions about everything. In some respects, I know that it was a wise decision for me to try and conceive naturally. My friend, Krissy, says that it's always better to try and do things naturally before taking the next step. I know this is true. Another part of me is really angry with myself. Dr. Rhodes wanted to put me on Clomid after my surgery in June. I keep thinking that, if I had listened to him back then, I would be well into my pregnancy already. Another part of me worries that I'm putting all my "eggs" in one basket, so to speak and I'm gearing myself up for an even bigger let down if the Clomid doesn't work.
Everyone keeps telling me to be patient - that God's plan for me isn't written in correspondence form. I've heard countless stories of people who've tried to conceive and the one month they weren't trying, it happened. This is not helpful. And maybe part of it has to do with the fact that I'm not a patient person. But I think it goes deeper than that. I've wanted a family for as long as I can remember. And for some reason, I can't make it happen. And I don't know if "patience" has anything to do with it. It's not easy - hell, I'd even say it's impossible - to be "patient' when your life literally revolves around getting pregnant. I can't be "patient" when I wake up every morning, take my temperature, pee on my ovulation stick, and take my vitamins. It's not easy to relax when you make a conscious effort to avoid caffeine, sushi, alcohol, and Brie, all in the off chance that this might be "the" month. That serves as a constant reminder of the fact that I'm not pregnant and constantly reminds me that I was at one point.
I need a plan. I have a goal, and I need to work towards achieving that goal. It's how I was wired and I'll never change. Now, I have to change my game plan. Clomid is the new name of the game.