The Clomid Connection

It's been sixteen weeks since my miscarriage. I guess there's a part of me that hoped I'd be pregnant by now. And, Lord knows we've been putting forth maximal effort in that endeavor. I've been doing everything under the sun to try and help. I take my temperature every morning. I've become a pro at using ovulation kits. I drink teas, I attend fertility yoga (yes, there is such a thing), and I take my vitamins. In fact, I do everything short of standing on my head...oh wait, I've actually done that as well.

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.