The Little White Pill

A year ago, I couldn't care less what Clomid is but now, I could recite these facts blindfolded.

▪ It is supposedly the first line drug prescribed for women who don't ovulate regularly.
▪ Doctors usually prescribe 1 tablet of 50mg taken on cycle days 2-6, 3-7, or 5-9. If ovulation does not take place, dosage will then be increased in the next cycles.
▪ The hypothalamus, the pituitary gland, estrogen, GnRH, FSH, and LH are the six crucial elements that have to work together for ovulation to take place. In a nutshell, Clomid interferes with how each of these six work in order to mature and release at least one egg.
▪ Studies suggest that 80% will ovulate and roughly half of that will get pregnant in the first six cycles. Doctors don't recommend further than that as it will do more harm than good.
▪ Rare side effects include, but is not limited to, headaches, tender breasts, mood swings, hot flashes, and dried up mucus.

And after one failed round, here are my facts.
▪ It is the first line drug prescribed when doctors run out of blood tests to run and when it's still too soon to suggest IUI, IVF, ICSI, FET, or any of the other ART acronyms.
▪ I am fortunate enough to be included in the 80%. On my first round I ovulated on day 16, my earliest ovulation since I flushed my pills down the toilet. So far, no luck yet on the roughly half part.
▪ I am on the unfortunate side of the odds when it came to side effects. I have had splitting headaches from Day1, I've cried watching Sex and The City reruns, I've woken up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night (and day), I've winced with excruciating pain when Downied towels graze over my nippies, and I once bit my husband's head off when he was too sleepy to take me to the zoo. Last night after hearing him comment on my crankiness for the nth time (and if you knew my husband, you'd know he's not one to complain), I realized that Clomid must be the culprit. (I'm making it up to him tonight.)

Today is CD6 and, thank heavens, the last day for Clomid.

Here's hoping this round works.

Today I Will Curl Up and Cry

In November of last year, I wrote in my countdown wedding blog "by this time next year, I'd have a new family to start new traditions with."


One year later, there's still no family to speak of.

One may argue that a married couple is a family. I don't disagree. Especially one as blissfully married as we are. I have been extremely blessed with a husband who is everything I ever dreamed of and more. Perhaps I should be content with that? But I know in my heart that I can't. I am what one might call a late bloomer (if at all) but my maternal instincts developed way before my body did. I knew I wanted to be a mother someday ever since I was old enough to carry my baby brother and my cousins' babies. I was 7.

And when I say family, I'm talking big family with at least 4 kids AND a set of twins. But at the rate we're going, I'd be grateful to have just one.

Three days ago when my BBT was still in the safe vicinity of the luteal phase and my breasts were sore and heavy, I wept and thanked the heavens for the child I was convinced I was carrying.
The next day my temps dropped and I wept again. This time for a reason.
Talk about counting my chickens before the eggs hatched. Or more appropriately, counting my eggs before they were fertilized.

Today is Cycle Day 1. The end of another month of false hopes and false symptoms. The end of another month of googling implantation bleeding and progesterone supplements and of being deceived by delusions of fatigue and morning sickness.

Today is Cycle Day 1, otherwise known as Square One, Drawing Board, Clean Slate, Fresh Start. Like my dear husband said, "I know deep in my heart that a baby will come, especially when she's this wanted. I'd like to call it our Christmas miracle. I know God is with us, as He's ever been."

Tomorrow I will wake up with renewed faith.
Tomorrow I will start with the second round of Clomid and go back to lurking in Clomid Success Stories forums.

But today I will curl up and cry.
And never will I say "by this time next year" ever again.