Hysteria

A very long time ago, it was thought that "hysteria" (only in women, of course) was caused by the womb travelling around the body, looking for a baby, and disrupting the function of the other organs. This is also when they believed that the "Humours" were responsible for one's demeanor (Sanguine, Choleric, Phlegmatic, and Melancholy.) At points through this journey, I've thought about that. Imagining my uterus peeking behind pancreas, kidney, lung, calling "Yoo-hoo! Any babies in here?" It makes me giggle a bit. And then I just get mad that they always blame women's behavior on hormones... But that's a whole other story!

Romantic Getaway

IvoryBoy and I spent our third anniversary in Boston this year. We had a really nice day wandering around Cambridge, checking out shops, then checking out the Back Bay (near our hotel) and doing a little shopping.

The next day, we went to the Science Museum, which was very interesting, but definitely geared toward kids. It was a little rough at some points, seeing all of these little kids with their classes from school, or their parents. Saturday was filled with more kids with their parents everywhere. IvoryBoy and I said to each other a few times that this would be a great trip to take with kids.

Not to say I spent the whole trip comparing us with the happy families everywhere. But I was hoping to think about it a lot less than I did. It's just amazing sometimes, how quickly that black fog comes up and distracts you from living a normal life. Something as simple as a child's mitten lost, and left behind on a potted plant in a mall, or a tiny souvenir t-shirt can make your heart break. And of course I kept thinking, maybe it will work while we're away and relaxed and happy. But there's always that fog lurking to pull me down.

Time Out

Taking another month off. Seems like a very good idea. We'll be away, celebrating our anniversary on the days that we'd need to do our final shot at IUI for our final clomid cycle, so the RE recommended waiting and doing the IUI, rather than trying the old fashioned way. I'm on day 7 or something like that (see how nice, I don't have to remember) and I feel not quite like my old self, but definitely calmer and (dare I say it?) happier? No hot flashes, that's a nice change of pace.

I was talking to my buddy, NewsGirl, and she was quite supportive, and reminded me of another good reason to not be all drugged up - actually being able to enjoy my anniversary, and by "anniversary" I mean, sex with my husband that isn't scheduled.

Effing Aunt Flow

She came back. I hate her.

Waiting... Again

It's day 28 today, and if Aunt Flow doesn't show up by Friday, I go for a pregnancy test.

I'm trying really hard not to feel too negative, or get my hopes up too high. This is my 7th Clomid cycle, 5th with Ovidrel, 3rd with IUI. We get one more shot at a Clomid cycle after this, and then we move to IVF. I was saying to IvoryBoy, as we drove the 6 hours to my MIL's for a long weekend, that I want to take a few months off between Clomid and IVF. He was disappointed, but agreed that whatever I want to do is what we'll do. He's a few years older than I am, and feels the pressure of age more acutely than I do in our science experiment. He's afraid he'll be taking Ivory Jr to college using a walker and wearing Depends.

I'm just feeling very discouraged, and trying not to interpret every cramp or twinge.

Survived Yom Kippur

Without incident, I might add.

I was all set to fast when NewsGirl said to me that technically, until proven otherwise, my body is trying to be pregnant, and fasting might not be a good idea. So I didn't. And it was weird. I still felt hungry, even though I ate (modestly).

So I went for a progesterone check today, and they didn't call, which means I'm good to go. I go back on 10/9 to check my blood if Aunt Flow doesn't arrive before then. I hope she doesn't.

It's a Long Way Down

As I prepare for my 3rd IUI, I'm sitting here, not feeling excited or nervous, optimistic or encouraged, but miserable. Just plain miserable. I'm feeling rather down in the dumps lately, in general. Starting this 7th round of Clomid, I've felt the effects to be more intense, more acute, more difficult for others to be around me. I just feel so discouraged by the process. I wonder how much of this has to do with coming up on the 2nd anniversary of my 2nd miscarriage? I cried during Rosh Hashanah services, when they read the Story of Hannah, wife of Elkanah, mother of Samuel. It's like picking a scab. You think it's healed over, and then it starts bleeding as if it just happened.

It may not seem like it today, but I'm really trying not to let this get me down. I am wallowing in a rather viscous lake of self-pity which is making me particularly horrible to my friends, family and co-workers. I feel as if this self-pity, almost self-loathing, is a stinking slime seeping from my pores. I am so far from the person I was before I miscarried. Before I began this difficult journey of infertility treatments. The drugs make me feel like I'm watching someone else, maybe my evil twin, bark at people, and rant and rave, thinking "Oh that's horrible, why can't she just take a breath and look at this objectively?" She doesn't have an objective view-point to see things from. Perception is reality, after all. This ShadowGirl version of myself is angry and jealous, mostly angry, and can't get past her fear and pain about having to go through this to remember why we're doing this.

You Have to Find the Funny...

Yesterday, I was emailing with my good friend, NewsGirl, talking about our respective weeks. I mentioned that I was taking the day off work to take care of some things, and wrote this:

poke & prod at 7am. and then i head up to mom's to wait for my ovidrel and the oven repairman.

She replied, "can we please take a moment to dissect that sentence? Because it's [eff]ing hysterical."

Then I went back and read it. And it was.

Oh.

Started Clomid last night. At 9:30 this morning, IvoryBoy calls to tell me that he's got to go out of town for work again for a week, starting on Day 12. So we're looking into our options, but it looks like we're going to go the spermsicle route, and do an IUI whenever they think I'm ready. So he won't even be in the same state as me when I'm being inseminated.

That would make a much better answer to "Where do babies come from?"

"Rochester."

It'll be just like Starting Over

IvoryBoy and I went for a consultation today with the reproductive endocrinologist. He feels that we're on the right track and should do at least two more Clomid cycles before considering IVF. He feels that with my PCOS, and the fact that I am responding to the Clomid favorably, that injectibles would pose too high a risk of multiples. I'm ok with the idea of twins, but I don't want my own reality show, thankyouverymuch. And I don't really want to be in a position where I have to figure out how I feel about selective reduction. I appreciate that they're concerned with avoiding quadruplets or more. Makes me wonder how Kate Gosselin or Octomom talked their doctors into allowing them to risk carrying whole litters of babies.

So I started my next round of clomid tonight, (Lucky everyone around me, getting to see mood-swinging-hot-flashing-IvoryGirl after a short hiatus) and then we'll do an IUI in about 10-12 days. I'm feeling pretty well rested from having that time off from our previous attempts. Hopefully that will help me to stay positive through this cycle. That and my sweet IvoryBoy, who keeps reminding me how much he loves me, and showing his support through it all. Even with all of this, I'm a very lucky girl.