Huh? What’d I miss?

I debated about whether or not to tell you about The Clomid. Not because I’m embarrassed, or anything. Hell, I’m hardly the only woman who’s ovarially challenged, right? But because I was afraid you’d get the wrong idea. Since we all know I suck at keeping my own secrets, it wasn’t really a surprise to find myself blurting it out.

Lest you get the “wrong idea,” let me ‘splain: Gerald was 100% opposed to The Clomid re: O: SK. Last time around I was on Clomid, Estrogen and Progesterone. That’s a potent combination of hormones, my friends. I was a raving bitch one minute and sobbing uncontrollably the next. It’s a miracle we were ever able to, ahem, you know. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to “rise to the occasion” had I been the husband. In addition, Gerald’s never been fully convinced of the fact that I needed pharmaceutical help in order to conceive. When we were trying to get pregnant with Maddie, the OB I was going to was a little…shady off-putting and Gerald decided he didn’t know his ass from his elbow. Luckily for us, as soon as I conceived, he retired and I found the most wonderful OB, Dr. G.

Dr. G. did some blood work on me a few months ago and said things looked ok as far as ovulation was concerned that month. We were both hoping that my PCOS would reverse itself with my massive weight loss. Then, a couple months later, my period was 10 days early. (Remember, my cycle is only 24 days long to begin with. 10 days is almost half.) He did some more blood work and determined that I didn’t ovulate at all that month. He was concerned with the length of my cycle in addition to the lack of ovulation. He suggested a low dose of Clomid just to help things along. I reported all this to Gerald, but we again agreed to just let God be in charge.

We tried this month and not only did I not get pregnant, I started my period five days early and failed to ovulated yet again. At this point, I felt like we needed to make a final decision on O: SK. Did we want to get pregnant or not? Because if we did, then it wasn’t going to happen on it’s own very quickly, or maybe never. There was no way I could deal with Teh Crazy every month for who knows how long, or worry about Gerald deciding we were done trying since it was all one big FAIL. I didn’t want trying to conceive to be a drudgery or result in fights and hurt feelings. I was ready to throw in the towel if Gerald said no to the Clomid again.

After a lengthy (and totally calm) discussion, Gerald said that even though he was opposed to me taking any kind of fertility drugs, he knows how badly how I want another child and the easiest way for that to happen is to take Clomid. He still doesn’t like the idea, but is willing to compromise to make me happy. Yes, I’m aware that he’s a Keeper.

This time, I’m only taking Clomid for five days. Nothing else. After two doses, I feel great. No desire to stab someone in their fucking eyeball or cry over how my hair won’t lay right. At this point, my only worry is whether or not my husband will have recovered from his surgery enough to, well, you know, in two weeks.

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