Oh Proper Thyroid Function, Where Art Thou?

Where I am: CD19
Medications: none
Symptoms: none

First of all, an acknowledgement of my most recent post about BFPs in the IF/RPL community. My blog has received 155 192 views from 67 89 visitors just today! The post itself? An astounding 78 88 views!

I mean…WHAT?!

I am flattered. I am touched. I wrote it as a nod to my preggo pals, and instead my blog is imploding from all the attention. Thank you!

Anyway, a small update. I got my thyroid and pituitary results back recently. My prolactin, thankfully, went down from a way too high 38.36 to an almost pregnancy-safe 16.64! So I will continue my half-pill of bromocriptine every night.

My thyroid… *sigh* My TSH went up slightly from 3.08 to 3.29. GRRRRRR! So frustrating, especially since they increased my dose since the last level!

The nurse called me today, and Dr. O wants to put me back on the dosage of levothyroxine I was on last fall (which consequently brought my TSH to an incredibly low level of .19 during my last pregnancy). I asked her whether or not we should have the free T3 and T4 done, and she said no because my level was within normal range.

This frustrated me a little bit. Isn’t the whole point of increasing my dose so that my thyroid levels are closer to pregnancy-safe? Why wouldn’t they want to make sure the tests are accurate??

I’m considering calling back and speaking to someone else…and requesting—or demanding—that I have those other tests done. I’m nervous the TSH alone isn’t being reliable, and the paranoia that my thyroid contributed to both my miscarriages is rampant and I don’t want it to happen again.

Anyway…CD19 today. Inching closer and closer to AF, I hope! Oh, and that reminds me—while I had the nurse on the phone, I had her put in an order with CVS Caremark for my new dosage of Clomid. I’ll probably call on Monday (CD23) and have it delivered the next day so that I have it for the start of my new cycle.

Fingers crossed that 1) AF shows up in a reasonable time, and 2) I clear my baseline ultrasound. I’m still having ovarian tenderness/pain in my abdomen that flares a little sometimes when I pee. I’m nervous the last Clomid cycle and possible OHSS did something to screw up my lady parts. I hope I’m wrong.

Why I Don’t Mind Seeing BFPs in the Community

I know that, for many, seeing others in the IF/RPL community get BFPs can be hard. As much as we want to support each other, as much as we want to see others succeed, it is still hard to not wonder, Why not me?

And I understand that. I feel it sometimes, too. I see all these women popping up with their BFPs on here and on Twitter and, as soon as the congratulations are out of my mouth, I feel that little pinch of jealousy…of envy…of resentment. What about me?

I’m part of a group on the Baby Bump app I downloaded the week I got my first BFP last year. There are message groups/forums abound on there, and while I haven’t made any everlasting pals on there like I have on here and on Twitter, I do find some comfort there. The group I am a part of was for women starting new TTC cycles in April, and was a small amount of people (less than 20 members) and we all started posting on there. We shared our stories. We shared our symptoms. Most of us shared our BFNs. But two women shared their BFPs. Right off the bat, they were successful and the rest of us were not.

And I felt it again. The old faithful, Why them and not me? Why? WHY? I felt jealous, I felt sadder for myself.

Well, within a week each of announcing their BFPs, both of them miscarried. For one it was her third, for the other—her sixth, and last. She’s given up at this point. It’s too painful for her. She can’t deal with it anymore.

Another person I found here on WordPress earlier this year  just announced last week that she has lost her second pregnancy.

And that, my friends, is why I don’t mind seeing your BFPs. Your pregnancy posts. Your post-pregnancy photos. Because I cried when these three women lost their sweet little could-have-been babes. To see more losses only breaks my heart in a way it doesn’t break when I see others being successful when I’m not. It hurts more.

And it scares me, too. I feel such hope and strength when I watch you ladies being successful on medicated cycles, successful with a viable pregnancy even after so many losses. But when I see someone lose another baby, again, it terrifies me. It makes me wonder, but in a different way: What about me?

What if what happened to them, happens to me…again?

I know everyone is entitled to their opinions. I don’t speak for the whole community. I know that each and every one of us needs to protect our hearts, our sanity, and that means doing what is best for us in the moment. And sure, there may come a day or two when I don’t feel the same temporarily…or, maybe, permanently. But for right now, I love seeing your posts. I love seeing your success. It gives me hope. It gives me the strength to keep trying. It reassures me that sometimes, it does work out. ❤

Happy Anniversary! And Ovulation!

Where I am: CD17
Medications: none
Symptoms: none

Holy crap, what a weekend!

Let’s start with Friday. My parents were on vacation, so I have been stopping in and checking on the cat every other day or so. This time, J came with me so he could change out the litter (despite my non-pregnant status, we just take precautions…and also, why would I want to change litter?) so we decided to make a night of it. My parents have a huge (I mean huge) 3-D TV that’s got all the bells and whistles (oh the things you can buy when you finally get an empty nest) so we decided to watch a movie and order out for dinner from the local pizza place. We stopped and picked up a six-pack of beer for me on the way. For the most part, the night was good. I had one small meltdown about the weekend, but that was it. The beer made me tired so we came home and went to bed pretty early.

Saturday started out rough. I woke up early due to intense, intense ovarian pain and serious abdominal bloating. It hurt to do anything: cough, sneeze, use my abdominal muscles, to pee or poop, to walk. Every step I took reverberated in my ovaries. Based off of Dr. Google (because he’s sooooo reliable), I self-diagnosed myself with mild OHSS (it makes sense, what with overstimulation and all). I spent the majority of the morning in bed, only to finally force myself out of bed at 11:30 so I could make my hair appointment (with a swing by Dunkies first, of course).

The hair appointment was awesome, as usual. My hairstylist is amazing! Thankfully, she didn’t ask about TTC (since I told her last summer that we were and she’s asked every time ever since) so that was a nice break. I decided to give my hair a break from the crazy-color highlights (since once they fade my hair gets very rough and also it turns grey-white-blonde) and decided on a semi-permanent violet-red that would still give me the purple hues I love but wouldn’t require any bleaching. I told her I was going out to celebrate my anniversary with J, and my hair looked so good they wanted to put it on their “Instaglam” so I got a free curl job (?) out of the deal and got to look all pretty for the rest of the day!

Afterwards I gritted my teeth and, armed with Tylenol and Gatorade for the pain, J and I headed down through Cape traffic to Plymouth. We walked the jetty, all-in-all over a mile, which I think was good for me despite the pain in my tummy. We decided on a place to eat for dinner, and when faced with an hour-long wait to eat inside, we decided to opt for a wait-free table outside (J doesn’t like the cold and it was about 7:00PM by the time we got to the table—I wanted to sit outside from the beginning, he didn’t). We had risotto bites for an appetizer, which were absolutely fabulous. J had steak tips, I had chicken carbonara—both were simply delightful! I also enjoyed not one, but two delicious Hawaiian-tinis and another mixed drink (I forget the name). It’s safe to say I was feeling a good buzz. (I can thank a year-plus of TTC for my now incredibly low tolerance. Hooray, cheap date!)

Sunday morning, we went to brunch and stuffed our faces with all the food we could manage. Eggs, waffles, french toast, sausage, fruit, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, rice, cooked meats, everything! I had a coffee with Frangelico and Bailey’s in it, I believe, followed by yet another martini (you can see I threw alcohol caution to the wind this weekend, well-deserved). We then went to IKEA for a few hours in search of inspiration for the house we’ll be owning by the end of the summer, and then off to work he went and I spent the rest of the day relaxing, drinking a few beers, and watching the X-Men trilogy (it was on TV all weekend and last week and I kept catching snippets of it, which made me want to rewatch them).

Perhaps the second-best part to Sunday, aside from the anniversary time with J, was that I woke up in significantly less pain than Saturday. I was still bloated as all hell (still kind of am, even another two days later), but the pain that came with every movement, cough, sneeze, step…was almost gone. This leads me to believe I ovulated sometime in the past few days and Saturday was the peak of the pain as those 3 or 4+ eggs dropped. Yeesh.

And now it’s Tuesday…I’m back at work after the long weekend, looking forward to a relatively easy week. I have a work function on Wednesday, an in-law outing on Friday. Today is my actual wedding anniversary with J, and tomorrow marks eight years since our first date. Today is also CD17, which means (hopefully) that AF will be coming around in a week or so.

This weekend was really, really good for me. It got me out of the funk from my cancelled cycle. It reminded me that there’s more to my life than TTC. That I am married to an amazing man and I wouldn’t have been able to get this far without him. I know that this feeling of optimism is going to last until the next bad things happens (oh, the roller-coaster continues), but I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts. I’m ready for my next cycle.

Go, Team Junebugs! 😉

Rough Patch

Where I am: CD13
Medications: none
Symptoms: none

I’m sorry for that horribly negative post the other day. I was not in a good mood after that phone call.

A bottle of wine and lots of TV have gotten me to today, Friday, the day before the long weekend. A weekend in which I really hope to have a fantastic time celebrating two years married, eight years together total, with my amazing, strong, loving, caring, supportive husband.

(I’m trying not to think about how we stupidly joked last week that we might get to conceive our sticky baby during our timed baby-dancing over our anniversary weekend. I’m trying not to think that since my ovaries are still achy as all getout, I probably haven’t even ovulated yet and any sex we do have will have to be accompanied by a friggin’ condom. How’s that for ironic?)

As of yet, we have no official plans (we’re bad at planning ahead…we haven’t even booked our hotels for our end of June/beginning of July vacation…yeahhhh). We’ll probably cook dinner together tonight, I’ll open another bottle of wine, we’ll relax and plan something out for tomorrow. Or, he’ll have a surprise plan waiting for me when I get home. Either way, I don’t care. To be clear, “having a fantastic time celebrating our anniversary” doesn’t even mean “going out.” As long as we’re together and having fun and doing something that’ll make us laugh and smile, that’s all I care about.

Of course, because of this cancelled cycle, I am feeling all-around negative about everything. I’m starting to worry I won’t get that job I applied for, because I’m starting to feel bored in my current job (although, honestly, this TTC thing has adverse effects on how motivated I am because I’m not entirely passionate about what I do). I’m starting to be concerned about the house thing, because it’s almost June and we aren’t even pre-approved yet. I’m starting to worry we waited too long and that we’ll be stuck moving into my parents’ house come September when our apartment lease runs out.

But I need to stop. Stop thinking negative. Let things happen as they do. I can only control so much.

I’ll be back next week. There’s nothing really for me to talk about since this cycle is a bust. I just keep thinking that by the time I return to work next Tuesday, it’ll be CD17 and I’ll hopefully be that much closer to AF showing her ugly face again.

Have a great weekend, everyone (and enjoy the long weekend, my fellow US friends, Happy Memorial Day). ❤

Letting Go

Where I am: CD11
Medications: none
Symptoms: nothing

I’ve decided to let this cycle go.

The risk of getting pregnant with three or more babies is too scary. With my RPL, it is too big of a risk. I may regret it, but I can’t…I can’t do it. I just can’t. I looked into selective reduction and I don’t think I could do it knowing it was my fault that I had to decide to do it anyway.

I am getting my hair cut and colored this weekend. This weekend is also when J and I will celebrate our two-year wedding anniversary. I want to enjoy both, guilt-free. Hair dye and maybe some alcohol and non-pregnancy-or-TTC-approved foods.

We need to get pre-approved for a mortgage. We need to get this house-hunting started. The months are ticking by.

I won’t sugarcoat it. This hit me hard. I didn’t expect to have a cancelled cycle so soon (or at all, I guess). And after the tech told me we’d be good to go…I thought it was fine…and then it wasn’t…

I’m feeling really negative, really resentful. It blows. I don’t want to feel like this. But fighting it will only make it worse in the end. I need to let myself feel it. So I can move past it.

So May won’t be my month.

Here’s to June, then.


P.S. Thank you everyone for responding yesterday. I really appreciated all of the encouragement. And I would have needed it, had I chosen to go ahead…I just did my own research, and made my decision. But I appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts. Thank you. ❤

NEVER MIND—Cycle Cancelled

And my hopes come crashing the fuck down.

I’m sorry for the f-bombs. I’ve been dropping a lot of them in the last hour or so.

In my last post from all of two or three hours ago, I said I was probably good to go. That we had a good amount of follies.

The office called and said they were recommending to cancel the cycle. My follie sizes were 10mm, 11mm, 13mm, 13mm, 14mm, and 17mm. They think I am at risk for 3+ multiples.

Really? Really?? I feel like that would never happen. Never in a million years.

I’m not sure what to think right now. I’m upset. I was riding on a high and all excited and “infertility can’t have May anymore” and now this. I can tell you right now, I’ve got zero fucking positivity in me right now. Zero. Nothing.

I am considering trying anyway. I wouldn’t trigger, because that might cause all the eggs to drop. But I’d buy an OPK, track, and have sex around O time. And hope that only one or two drop.

But I don’t know. I’d have to do progesterone twice a day to guard against not having enough in my system to support a pregnancy. Which, I’m not really concerned about, because it is the ONLY fertility med my insurance is covering and is only costing me $20 every time to refill it.

And I’m of course nervous about getting pregnant with more than 2 babies. I have RPL, so that’s obviously not advisable and is probably why my RE didn’t want to risk it (although the nurse said it was because I was only 26 and they don’t put that much risk into younger patients with good FSH and all that shit).

But at the same time, what are the chances? What are the chances?? And I feel like if I don’t do anything, I’ll regret it!

Thoughts, anyone? Please? Even if it’s a no, I want to hear it.

Sorry, Infertility, You Can’t Have the Month of May Anymore

Where I am: CD10
Medications: none right now
Symptoms: “full”-feeling left ovary, “very full”-feeling right ovary

So my scan went well this morning. I don’t know the exact numbers (I’ll post them on my infertility timeline page once the nurse calls me later) of all of them, but the two most notable ones were 17mm and 14mm, I believe both on the right ovary. Once again, the right was super greedy and took most of the stimulation for itself (which I was expecting, since I only feel a slight twinge every now and again from the left, whereas the right is always feeling sore). There was one measurable one on the left.

This was such good, good news! On the one hand, I didn’t have a monstrous 30mm again! This confirms that, last cycle, it really was just an overly zealous follicle and not a cyst in my ovary. Also, it seems the Clomid was a little more spread out, at least with my right ovary (the little hog). I’ll have one definitely mature follicle and hopefully another, if that 14mm grows just a smidge more between now and whenever I ovulate.

Which, I am assuming will be sometime at the end of this week! The office hasn’t called me yet, and I’ll call them if I haven’t heard by 4:30PM, but the tech told me I’ll probably trigger tomorrow night to allow that 17mm just a little more time to mature.

That makes my beta day, if my calculations are correct, June 4th. So close, yet so far away.

I feel good about this cycle. The reason the BFN last cycle didn’t hit me too hard is because I really wasn’t expecting much because of that monster follie. It was probably too mature to be of any good, and I didn’t have any others that were really good…but I still had to trigger anyway to release the big one. I feel like I was a little gypped last cycle. This one, though…this one feels good.

And May is my month. Well, it’s our month. Mine and J’s. May is the month we started dating, May is the month we were married (we were wed the day before our six-year dating anniversary…cue the “awwww”s!). It’s my favorite month of the year—not too hot and not too cold, at least here in New England.

Last year, May was ruined for me. May includes the day I went to the ER with bleeding, the weeks I spent hoping the little sac in my tummy was going to grow no matter what the doctors told me, the day I had my first D&E and officially lost my first pregnancy. J came home on our wedding anniversary from a month-long training program in CA, and we spent the evening crying in each other’s arms.

On a day we should have been celebrating a year’s worth of marriage, we were mourning the loss of our baby-that-could-have-been. The month lost its luster and appeal and specialness.

Well not anymore.

I’m not saying May will be saved if I get my BFP from this month. Because there’s always that chance that I’ll get another BFN. No, I’m saying May is saved because I said so. Because in spite of that first loss, and in spite of whatever outcome this cycle has, I’m taking back this month from my infertility. This month is sacred to us…to me.

I want to rejuvenate this special time for me and J. If there is one month every year when we fill our hearts with happiness, this month should be it.

Having said that, I know this cycle can only benefit from the happy and good feelings and whatever positive juju this month can bring. I’m hoping my future sticky baby is nestled somewhere in one of my ovaries, ready to grow from a little egg to a little embryo to a little baby.

Come on, MAYbe baby…come on. I’m waiting for you. 🙂 ❤

Update as of 4:55PM: Cycle was cancelled—see following post.

Spring Colds, Dental Bills, Ovary Twinges — Oh My!

Where I am: CD9
Medications: none (finished Clomid Saturday!)
Symptoms: twinges in the right ovary…

Sorry I disappeared on y’all. Turns out what I had thought/hoped was allergies was actually a friggin’ cold. In the middle of May. In New England.


I hit rock bottom on Saturday. Felt my worst, and had a terrible headache from all the congestion. Every time I moved, I could feel the blood flow pick up speed in my skull. It killed me! I tried to go the entire day without taking anything, but I finally caved and took one dose of Tylenol in the evening (not Motrin/Advil! which is bad while on Clomid/TTC). It worked like magic and got me through dinner and got me to sleep. Yesterday I started feeling better, and today even better again. Mostly all the nastiness is in my chest now. I sound like I’ve been smoking for 40 years. Yummy.

As far as the whole Clomid-thing goes, starting to feel those tell-tale twinges. Mostly in my right ovary again. Which is making me slightly nervous, because the right is where that monstrous 30mm was last time. This makes me wary of two things: 1) that the 30mm was actually a cyst and it has grown again, or 2) my right ovary is being a medication-hog and is literally stealing ALL the Clomid just for itself. For one follicle.


Don’t get me wrong, I want my little follies to grow, grow, grow…but I don’t want one giant one that’s ridiculously large! I’d prefer ones that were a little more textbook, you know? Like even 20-22mm is fine with me.

Well, beggars can’t be choosers, right? Hmph.

Today, I had my 6-month teeth cleaning.

*smiles wide* SEEEEEEEEE?!?!?!?!?!?!

So, to make a long story only slightly long: I hate the dentist. I have this intense irrational fear about them. About four years ago my dad’s insurance dropped me right around the time I finished a year-long job at my school (and was therefore unemployed). Had to file for Commonwealth Care (the MA version of health care for poor people). That took forever. Then I got a job. Had to refile to change my status. Then I got a different job with benefits. By then I had cancelled my cleaning because my health care status was in flux earlier. Never made a new appointment. Three years passed. Many cavities formed. I decide to start TTC and have to regrettably make the trip to the dentist to get my mouth destroyed and rebuilt, basically.

Cut to seven months, two cleanings, and nearly ten “cosmetic” (read: A TON OF MOTHER-EFFING CAVITIES) appointments later, and my teeth are just dandy now. I’m terrified all the time, but I need to do what’s best for baby (and, really, what’s best for me, but I’ve never been good about doctors and dentists—until recently).

The only downside is that since I’m now on my husband’s insurance, my dentist is “out of plan.” Which is fancy speak for, “We aren’t going to pay for all of your shit all the time.”

But I can’t switch dentists. I just can’t. The guy who does the cavities/cosmetic stuff is a GOD. He’s amazingly calm, comforting, great with anesthesia, and a perfectionist. He knows I have anxiety and is always making sure I’m comfortable and can’t feel pain. He’s amazing. And he’s also kind of attractive, and he has an accent (I think he’s from Romania?). And there’s just something about him that calms me. And, for now at least, while I’m fixing my mess of a mouth, I need to feel as comfortable as possible or I’m not going to go anymore. And I can’t afford to have bad dental hygiene right now, not while TTC.

My hygienist is awesome, too. Don’t get me wrong. She keeps me distracted by talking about her life and asking about mine and is as gentle as she can be.

As a matter of fact (since I’ve somehow segued into my cosmetic dentist infatuation, and this is a blog about IF), I had to break it to my hygienist today that I miscarried (which, not sure how much of a “break” it was since I would be…almost 8 months now? …yeah, kind of would’ve been obvious…). She apologized, and I told her about the fertility stuff and she wished me luck (surprisingly didn’t give me any platitudes!). She then told me she has an appointment with an RE because her OB referred her to one, telling her she was on the “old side” of things (at 34?!) and that she should get a fertility workup. Oi.

Anyway, whoa. Sidetracked again. So with all of my cosmetic appointments, I ran up my coverage for the year (in May, only five months into the year, HAH HAH HAH, whoops). I’ve got an outstanding bill somewhere on the upside of $1,200 left for the previous appointments, and then had to pay $100 out of pocket for today’s cleaning. Blerg. Lucky for me, the practice is self-standing and can be a little, er, “accommodating” sometimes for patients. The receptionist knows about my RPL/IF (since it’s medical history, I have to update the office whenever I go in of anything I’m undergoing for treatment) and has had a miscarriage of her own, and she was able to swing a 10% discount off the larger bill as long as I pay it in the next two weeks. It’s only saving me a couple hundred at most, but I’ll take anything I can get. And they’re sweet for doing it. Because we all know I’m not getting any coverage or discounts for my fertility treatments!

Anyway, here I am at work with a wicked sore and sensitive mouth and a ton of work to do. I just wanted to hop on here and write this out. Let you all know what I’m up to. First follicle scan is tomorrow morning…fingers crossed for no cysts and a little more balance with mature follies than last time!!

A Whirlwind Week

Where I am: CD5
Medications: Clomid, Day 3 of 5
Symptoms: none

I am so glad it’s Thursday. This week is becoming too much! And pretty much none of it has to do with this TTC cycle, interestingly enough…

For those of you who follow my Twitter, you know I’ve been one hell of a bitchy whineface to be around lately. Taking into account my extreme lack of sleep Sunday night and how horrible I’ve been feeling healthwise, I was a mess on Tuesday. Then Tuesday night, I didn’t sleep. Hardly at all. I was up until at least 5:30, and then woke up every hour after that. Yesterday, I walked through the day like I was in some nightmare dream haze. Everyone at work kept telling me how horrible I looked (gee thanks). I left early, took a nap for an hour, spent the evening on the couch, and went to bed before 11:00PM. Thankfully, I slept pretty soundly through the night (waking only at 4:00AM to pee and wonder where the hell my husband was…he was just finishing up his shower and was coming to bed).

I woke up still feeling pretty craptastic this morning, but at least I felt more or less well-rested. As well-rested as one can be, of course, after two nights of insomnia in one week.

Today…I have an interview at work. (AHHHHHH.) The position I have right now is temporary (and isn’t even in the department I want to be in, which is Editorial/Production). The department I want to work in (that I worked for last summer as part of another contract position) had two openings recently, and I applied for one. There’s been a lot of bureaucratic nonsense going on about me wanting to work there and being able to work there (I have a family member who works there, but we would never interact with each other…it’s just stupid). But I guess they are starting to reconsider that policy because they emailed me yesterday and said I have an hour-long interview with many people in the department today.


Great! On not nearly enough sleep and with some allergy/cold-disease-like-thing. Awesome. I’m totally on my game. *le heavy sigh*

I swear, I’m not complaining about getting an interview. I’m not. I’m really excited. I’m just also really, really, really nervous because I want this job so bad. I know it’ll throw me for a loop, since it would start after this temporary job comes to a close at the end of summer, and then I’ll be working and schooling full-time and TTC…but I need to be able to move forward with my life in spite of RPL and IF. And that’s exactly what I’m doing. House, job, school.


In other news…I’m feeling good about this cycle. I’ve only got two doses of Clomid down, but I feel fine for now. Emotionally, it didn’t affect me much last time. Physically, it only affected me about 2-3 days after my last dose, when my ovaries felt like they were going to bust out of my abdomen. Ouch! So I expect the same this time around.

And…that’s what I’m up to. Sorry this is such a disjointed post. Not being able to medicate myself through these allergies/this cold is really messing with my brainpower, and I need it all for work and that interview. Which is in less than two hours. Holy crap.

All Systems Go, Round 2

Where I am: CD3
Medications: Clomid, Day 1 of 5
Symptoms: none

And on Cycle Day 3, we revved the engines and took off for another lap.

I had my baseline at 1:00-ish this afternoon. First, let me tell you: there is a world—a world—of difference between dealing with Mr Dildo Wand on CD2 and dealing with him on CD3. Last cycle, I went in on the former, and my God, I half expected all my girly innards to run for the hills…it was that painful.

Speaking of pain, allow me to tangent for one second because CRAMPS. It has been a while since I lost sleep over cramps. A while. Sunday night, I was up until 4:30AM, and then up every hour after that until my alarm went off three hours later, because of the pain. It was horrible. It took three doses of Tylenol spread throughout the day yesterday to get me through. Thankfully, they were more or less gone by this morning.

Okay, off the tangent. Back to my appointment. Today was CD3 and I was barely having any cramping, so the ultrasound wasn’t too painful. The tech was chattier than usual today, probably because she’s starting to get to know us. (Fun fact: With the exception of when I went to the hospital for my blighted ovum bleeding and when I went into the city for my NT scan last Christmas Eve, I’ve seen her every time I go in for an ultrasound. Every time. First time I saw her was a year ago this week for a follow-up ultrasound on my blighted ovum. She’s a sweetheart.) She asked if we were doing Clomid, and I said “Yes, again, because the first time didn’t work!” I let out a playful sigh at the end, and she laughed and then reassured us that hardly anyone ever conceived on the first try with Clomid and not to worry at all. She asked about school and work, and took her pictures and wrote her notes.

At the end, she said “Probably see you in a week then? You’re monitoring this cycle, right?” So I took that as a good sign (she wouldn’t say that if she thought something was abnormal, like that 30mm from last cycle that we’d hoped wasn’t a cyst).

J met me at the office for this appointment, which was sweet. With our first pregnancy, he was training in CA so he missed everything. Literally. Every ultrasound, every appointment, and even the D&E. So I think he tries extra hard to come to as many appointments as he can, even just for monitoring or baseline ultrasounds. He’s even tried to come with me for bloodwork but I told him that was a little overboard! Still…he’s sweet.

So we got Dunkin’ after the appointment and sat to talk for a few minutes (despite it being in the same city I work in, traffic both was was a bitch and the office made me wait 15 minutes for my appointment, so my lunch hour was eaten up pretty quickly). I then rushed back to work to wait for what I thought would be hours.

But at 2:30 they called me and told me we’re all set! I didn’t ask specifics because I was in my cubicle and have people around me (work is in the dark on all this, obviously), but I’m sure if there was anything notable to talk about, they would have. I start Clomid tonight and then have my first follie ultrasound next Tuesday the 20th.


I’m excited to try again. I’m feeling optimistic. I want to write more, but I’m busy at work and feeling crappy (allergies are in full force, my throat is killing me as a result and, thanks to TTC, I can’t take Zyrtec! *laughs in an annoyed fashion*). So I’ll be back later this week to write some more.

Also, sidenote: made an appointment for my hair to be done next Saturday. In January (or February?) I had purple streaks put in my hair. Since it’s naturally dark, my stylist had to bleach the streaks before putting the color in. Well, it’s been months, and now those streaks are not purple but instead a bleached-whiteish-greyish-blondish weird color! I have to wear my hair up every day because I look like a freak with it down. I’ve been putting it off for the last month or so because of TTC but I just can’t wait anymore. So I’m going for it.

Hopefully, since the appointment would be before any implantation or whatnot would occur, it’ll be fine.

If it won’t, please let me know.

But I think it will.

Belief over misery, I’ve seen the enemy
And I won’t go back, back to how it was
I’ve got my heart set on what happens next
I’ve got my eyes wide, it’s not over yet
We are miracles, and we’re not alone…

– Switchfoot, This Is Home