Clomid Round 2: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

I was getting really sick of looking at pictures of fertility drugs and doctor’s offices….so here you go.

I was getting really sick of looking at pictures of fertility drugs and doctor’s offices….so here you go.

If I were to go on a date with a fertility drug, I would want it to be Clomid. My body responds well to Clomid, minus the fact that it makes me bloated and a little bit queasy. Clomid kicked my body into gear way better than Letrozole did. If Clomid was a personal trainer, I would look like Kendall effing Jenner right around my fertile window. After round 1 my doctor gave me an ultrasound and said “well aren’t you an overachiever this month!” If I wasn’t pantsless with a wand up my hoo-hah I would’ve hugged him. “Clomid, he said. Your body responds well to the Clomid.” Oh Clomid, you’re the LEO DiCaprio of fertility drugs to me.

Apparently, we got along so well that we’re going on a second date.

And an IUI is coming too.

If you ask me what the difference between round 1 and round 2 of Clomid is I would tell you it’s the IUI but I’m pretty sure that’s obvious. Basically if Clomid is LEO, the IUI is Tobey Maguire: the friend who tags along on the second date when I was certain everything was going fine after the first. I really thought LEO and I were going to make it on our own because we got along so well….

So basically if this is The Great Gatsby, I’m Daisy: a beautiful little fool.

My feelings about this IUI are the same as my feelings about Tobey Maguire: mixed.

There is grief and there is joy, which sums up how this entire journey has felt for me thus far. (by the way grief and joy are not how I feel about Tobey Maguire…this is where the metaphor ends) Everything that comes with infertility comes with its own set of grief and joy: thankful things are happening and sad for the way they are happening; happy for a plan and sad the plan involves you having to pump yourself full of fertility drugs; hopeful, and also really sad. I struggle with this mix of grief and joy often, even though after losing my beloved Warner, losing Kyle’s brother and a few other personal struggles you think I would be really good at being able to look for joy in a sea of grief……but this IUI…..it marks something for me. We held off on an IUI for months because we hoped we wouldn’t need it; we didn’t even think of going to that Gatsby party because we didn’t think there was a need to invite us. This month marks the end of trying to get pregnant naturally and maybe with the help of some Clomid for good measure. Now, we are moving on to invasive procedures to help grow our family. We’re there. Our invite has arrived and the dress code is black tie not optional.

This doesn’t mean I’m not on board for this next step. I am. We are. It was discussed at length over the weekend while I was crying into my sushi take-out. The time has come and our RSVP is yes. But, man I wish we hadn’t been invited to this party. I really wish it didn’t have to be this way.

I can honestly say this is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through and this will be my hardest month. This month is a huge investment (emotional and financial) into our dream of growing our family and I’m scared it won’t work. I harbor this deep fear that I am inadequate and that’s why I’m not a mother. I worry that Kyle and I will go through this and nothing will come of it. I’m worried that we will try again and again and again until we are out of money and still will have failed. But, it’s time to go to the party; it’s time to show up

This month I’m summoning every ounce of courage, strength, humility and vulnerability I have in preparation for this next step. I’m picking my best party dress and my dancing shoes. Despite my fears, I’m going in smiling, with as few expectations as a LEO loving, Clomid over-achieving girl can. There is hope still living and breathing in my soul, I’m leaning on faith and a little bit of Ed Sheeran to get me through.

Because, if we’re going to the party, we might as well dance.

“It eluded us then, but that's no matter--tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning-- So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” 
― 
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Coffee Date Vol 8 (it rhymes!!)

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