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I had a date this morning.  I wouldn't call it a romantic get together but it was very intimate.  Unfortunately, my date is kind of promiscuous.  In fact, I think my date has been intimate with hundreds and hundreds of other women.  Have you met, him?  He goes by a number of names but I like to call him White Lightening.

Remember how I said he kind of gets around.  Well, I am not sure if I should feel a little disrespected by the fact that he doesn't even try to hide how unfaithful he is. 
I also had to have Gavin with me today since I wasn't thinking when I scheduled it.  Gavin has preschool on Tuesdays and I would have to have him with me if I had any hope of being able to drop him off in time.  He did a great job of entertaining himself while we waited.  Pardon the plumber butt. 

While he played I started imagining all of the possible scenarios of what Gavin was going to hear and how incredibly awkward it would be when he would inevitably repeat it to his preschool teachers.  Ovaries.  Follicles.  Ovulation.  Intercourse...  Then as Gavin played I started looking around the room.  Why is it that everytime I am in a doctor's office I notice what should be most innocent of pictures and I turn them into something phallic or related to baby making?  Well how about this painting that is hanging in the room?  What do you see?
At first all I noticed was the flowers too.  But if you look closely there are a couple of very busted up, depressed looking sperm.  Do you see them? 

So anyway, it appears as if I have another couple of eggs that have been triggered with 10,000 units of HCG.  The last two cycles we have done this approach they have told me how thick my uterine lining was.  The first time it was 8.3 and my doctor say that was good as they like to see it between 8 and 10.  Last month it measured 8.1 and I was satisfied but not thrilled with that number.  Today, the doctor didn't say anything about the measurement so I asked.  He told me that it was 5.6.  Yep.  That is it.  I asked if that meant that the chances of success are lower.  He said that it didn't mean that at all and that it wasn't a big deal and the only reason we were talking about it was because I asked.  Perhaps he was having a bad day or I was lacking caffeine due to the early and fast start to my day but I was kind of annoyed.  How can he tell me last month that they like to see it between 8 and 10 and this turn around and tell me that a 5.6 is fine.  That just doesn't make any sense to me.  But anyway... I Googled the heck out of it and learned that women have been able to get and stay pregnant with a thin lining so... now we cross our fingers and see if God has it in His will to bless us this cycle. 

Oh and remember how I was so worried about the words that Gavin might overhear and repeat at school today... Well, the doctor totally whispered through most of the appointment, which I was appreciative of.  Phew, right?  Not so much.  At the very end of the appointment he told me in a very normal and audible level to "Go SEX it up."  Ha!  Thanks, Doc!  Man I hope Gavin didn't tell anyone that I went to a doctor today who told me to sex it up."  How awkward would that be?!  I would totally have preferred Gavin talking about ovarian function than sexing it up!  Hopefully he doesn't talk about either.  Ever. 


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Today I went for my baseline ultrasound to make sure I didn't have any cysts from last round of clomid and to get started on the new cycle.  Today, I didn't have my classmate doctor.  I didn't have Dr. Eminem either.  Today I had a tall, nondescript, soft spoken fella.  A half a step behind was the non-muppet version of Bert (from Bert and Ernie) as his med student side kick.

As Bert furrowed his uni-brow, I managed to contort myself just enough to see the ultrasound screen.  Dr Bert didn't really use words as much as making his uni-brow into a peak in the general direction of the tall fella.  That is when I spoke up and said, "Let me guess.  That is a cyst."  And... I was right.

I was given the decision to use birth control pills to make the cyst go away and take a cycle off from the Clomid or just take a cycle off from the Clomid and let the cyst take care of itself.  I opted to just let nature take care of the cyst.  I am actually okay with this since I wasn't looking forward to another cycle of appointments, hormones, and hopes.  This way, if God intends us to get pregnant, it can still happen and I can just... wait for it.... wait for it.... relax.  Yep I said it.  This infertile girl is just going to relax and see what happens.

Plus, I have a little something else on my plate right now.  Starting Tuesday night I starting having some pretty uncomfortable back pain.  While it didn't feel good, I was confident that after a hot shower and some Icy Hot, I would be fine.  Yesterday I had to call Doug at work and ask him to come home.  Lifting Joey (who is a healthy 31+ pounds) several times a day was proving to be painful.  I was trying to be a tough girl but when Doug appeared at the door, I cried.  I was in so much pain and seeing him there was like going from survival mode to being rescued.  All of the sudden I gave myself permission to admit how much pain I was in.  It hasn't gotten any better.  In fact, each day is more pain than the last so after my ultrasound, I stopped into my General Practitioner (and family friend) to see if she could squeeze me in.  Thankfully she could, and I am now in a back brace, taking steroids, muscle relaxers and pain meds.  I am feeling artificially better but Doug is going to stay home and be Mr. Mom for the next couple of days so I can rest and hopefully be back in working order by Monday.

So, after further thought... I'm wondering if my ability to utter the words, "Just relax."  is a direct result of my medications.  I think I'm ready for a nap.

I was hopeful this cycle.  I really was.  Then as the important and exciting days approached are are almost behind us, that hope is growing smaller and smaller.  Yesterday's test was almost impossible to see.  Some real squinter pros might be able to make it out but almost non-existent.  Then, I felt like peeing on a 5 dollar bill but since I didn't have any of those in the house, I decided to pee on a First Response test.  I got a light but clearly visibly line.  With nothing to compare it to, I realized it meant next to nothing. 

Last night as I was warming up under my covers, I started to get achy and uncomfortable.  It was about that time that I realized that if I was pregnant, I would have been asleep by then.  At about 4:00 am, our cute adorable and chronologically challenged dogs decided to want to go out.  Doug let them out but I decided to take my temperature, just because I was awake.  It was dismally low.  I knew that the temperature wasn't really valid but, it didn't look good.  Then, as I thought about how ugly my chart was going to look when I put that temperature in it, I felt something familiar.  That first cramp.  The first cramp that clearly signaled that my period wouldn't be all that far behind it. 

When I woke up, I temped again and the temp wasn't AS ugly but it was low and barely above my coverline.  Later in the morning, I had that urge to pee on another 5 dollar bill but again, hadn't been to an ATM so I peed on another First Response.  While the line was there, it is what I like to call a ghost squinter.  In fact, I'll be impressed if anyone can even see it on the picture.  It is so ghostly that it only can be seen in the right light and the camera seems to wash out any teeny bit of color there is. Plus, even if you can see it, I am feeling pretty confident that it is just that teeny bit of trigger shot left. 

I am feeling crampy, tired, and pretty much watching out my window for the evil AF (Aunt Flo) to crash my Hope Party.  Well.... There is always next month and I have to feel confident in at least one thing.  God is in control of this. 

Today I went to get an ultrasound done to check to make sure I had no cysts before starting Clomid.  I knew when I made the appointment on Friday that my doctor wouldn't be the one I would see since he is only in that office on Tuesdays and Fridays.  There is a group of something like 6 doctors that work at the 3 different offices.  Dr. M is by far my favorite.  But knowing that he wouldn't be in, I started thinking about the other possible doctors.  One of the doctors is the one who gave me an ultra sound to verify that I was having a miscarriage.  His bedside manner left me in tears and his fake efforts to appear empathetic were about at believable as a obese person feeling bad for the person who "just can't gain weight".  I didn't really care who I had, as long as it wasn't him.

One of the other doctors in the practice is a young, attractive, sweet as pie girl who also happened to have gone to the same college prep boarding school as I did.  She was just a couple of grades ahead of me and in the same class as my brother.  No big deal really but it does provide an unusual experience when your doctor is really more like a peer and I cheered for her team when she played field hockey and she cheered for my team on the basketball court.  Not awkward really.  Just unique.

When I arrived at the medical building, my heart was pounding.  It was like it was finally hitting me that we were doing this.  The information I had learned about infertility, Clomid, and Reproductive Endocrinology by reading posts on message boards and having made friends with ladies traveling that road, were now becoming part of my own world.    As my head was swimming and my heart beating quickly, I soon see, just a few steps ahead of me is the girl I went to school with.  Of the options, I was pleased that it was going to be her, even if it was a little unusual.

I stepped into the elevator behind her and as she looked at me, I could tell that she knew that she knew me but was unclear how.  We made small talk and she would give a clue here and there that she had figured out who I was, but then she she started talking to me as if I were an employee.  As she realized that I was going to the same door as her, I could tell she was eager to go and look at the charts and solve the mystery.  I could hear the chatter through the glass as she must have told some of the others about her inability to place me.  I felt bad but I am still not sure how one goes about gracefully saying (in the company of others on an elevator), "I'm the one who is the little sister of your classmate. I am also a patient of Dr. M's but you are going to scan my ovaries today."

I had joined two other ladies in the waiting area and they were each called back almost immediately.  I waited quietly in the room contemplating picking up a magazine but recognized that it would probably only be a minute until I got called.  I fiddled with my purse instead.  Then, through the same door that I had just walked, came a guy in a white jacket.  I fear that there are no words that can accurately describe what I saw but I will try my best.  He looked to be about 24 years old at the absolute oldest.  His head was shaved bald and probably would not been laughed at if he auditioned to be a Calvin Klein underwear model.  But, despite being good looking, if instead of the white jacket he was wearing a baseball cap turned slightly to the side, I might have clutched my purse a little tighter.  After a brief hello and he passed through the next door, I stood to grab a tissue to stifle my almost impossible to stifle laughter.  It was hysterical to me that a really attractive young Eminem look-a-like was about to be involved in my ultrasound. 

A few moments later, my name is called.  I am lead back to the ultrasound room and undress from the waist down.  I wait with the crinkly paper sheet draped over my lap.  A minute later, in walks Dr. Classmate and Dr. Eminem.  I am introduced to Dr. Eminem and just as I had feared, I am asked if it is okay if he is in the room.  What am I supposed to say?  I say, "Sure!" but I finished the sentence in my head with, "Only if you put your hat on backward and say, 'Dawg!'"

Now all three of us are in a small room with the ultrasound machine and Dr. Classmate stands infront of the machine and hands "The Wand" to Dr. Eminem.

"Really?" I ask myself.  "A young female doctor and a pint sized rap star are in a room with a half naked infertile woman.  Who should insert the wand, do you think?"

Dr. Eminem lifts up the paper sheet to get a better view of the target and in it goes.  I am almost 90% sure that I was smiling.  Not because of the technique but of the situation and the conversation in my head.  *Note to self* Work on keeping a straight face when a wand is inserted into my vagina.  I am pretty confident that my smiling during that procedure only makes an awkward situation more awkward.

The good news is that I had no cysts on my ovaries!  Today I took my first dose of Clomid 50 mg.  I am on cycle day 4 and go back for a shot to trigger ovulation in about a week.  I am really hopeful but trying to keep it in check so that if this isn't the cycle for us, I am not completely feeling busted.  Any words of wisdom, encouragement, hope and prayers are always welcomed! 



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If you are a fan on Facebook or follow on Twitter, you know that I am not celebrating with a two lined test in my hand.  In fact, I had 3 separate one lined tests on three different days further cementing my suspicions that what I was feeling was my period moving into town.  But, as unusual as it may seem, I was okay.  I was fine with cycle number 15 beginning instead of cycle number 14 ending.  Instead of focusing on the failure of yet another cycle, I am choosing to really look forward to the fact that I am just one month closer to my next baby.  This is exciting!

I know that the fact that I am going to try Clomid this cycle has something to do with my enthusiasm.  But it still holds true that even though I am not already pregnant, wonderful things are going to happen to me.  I go tomorrow morning for an ultrasound to, I assume, get a baseline before I start the Clomid in a couple of days.

The past few days, I have had two sick kids.  Gavin had a double ear infection and Joey has just been fighting a cough and cold.  Today, since it was a beautiful day and both were feeling significantly better, we let them play outside on our freshly finished play set.  With my camera in hand, I caught some amazing examples of how important it is to look past the sad moments to catch the perfection of sheer happiness.





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In October of 2010, Doug and I would be celebrating our 4th wedding anniversary. It was hard to imagine that 4 years had already passed. I guess the saying holds true that time flies when you are having fun. According to my charts and calendars I was also due to ovulate on our anniversary so I figured that we would at least have a chance of having another positive pregnancy test in a few weeks. If we didn't, we had our appointment to receive the results from our genetic testing at beginning of November. Our anniversary was right around the corner and Doug broke the news to me that he has to be in Canada for business. At first I was sad just to learn that he would be away for our anniversary. Then I was a little extra heartbroken that I was going to ovulate when I was home all alone. Another month was going to pass with no baby 9 months later but again, at least we would be getting some answers. Well, I had hoped so.

If I wasn't already convinced that God has his hand in everything then I was that month. I was taking my temperature every morning and as Doug was out of town I waited for my temperature to rise indicating, for sure, that we had missed our chance. My temperature slowly ticked upward each morning but not enough that I could throw in the towel for that month. It was Friday and Doug was due home that night so on a whim, I took and ovulation test only to get the most positive result I had ever had in my 18 months of trying. I called Doug and made sure he "saved some energy" for when he came home. The rest of the month, I continued to take my temperature but never, unlike every other month in my charting career, had a significant rise in temperature. I had no idea if or when I really ovulated since all I could go on was one OPK.

A little less than 2 weeks later I was eager for Doug and I to meet with Dr. Mooney to get the results from the testing. I was sure that something must be wrong with one or both of us. I certainly didn't want this to be the case but at least with that information in hand, we could get a real handle on what was happening and what our options were. The day before the appointment I took a home pregnancy test just to rule out, for sure, that we were pregnant. There appeared a ghostly shadow of a line.

"Seriously?!" I asked myself. "Again?!"

I wanted more than anything to be pregnant but I was sure that I was just going to miscarry. Again.

The next day, I took another test and the line was darker! I had unavoidable feelings of hopefulness but with an overwhelming sense of dread. It was like driving in fog to an unknown destination. But into that car I climbed. For now, the destination was Dr. Mooney's office for the results.

Normal. Both normal. Unbelievable. We must have the worst luck in the world! Still no explanation for 6 consecutive losses and here we are with yet another, likely doomed, pregnancy. We talked with Dr. Mooney about what to do with the next cycle if/when we miscarried again.

We talked about green beans. Canned green beans. No joke. I asked him if there was anything I could do to improve the quality of my eggs and he referred to my eggs as 33 year old canned green beans. There was nothing I could do to make them younger, look better, or more appealing. At my request, he agreed that we could try Clomid to try to produce a couple more eggs. I think his words were, "Sure. We can throw a few more at the wall and see if at least one will stick. It would improve the odds, I suppose."

Before leaving we did talk about our plan of action with the current pregnancy on the off chance we could make it last. I decided to not use the progesterone suppositories since they hadn't worked in the past and all they seemed to do was prolong the inevitable miscarriage by tricking my body into thinking I was still pregnant. We were also going to skip the Lovenox injections since they were very expensive, not fun to administer to oneself, and failed to keep me pregnant the last time. I decided that I was just going to take my vitamins and baby aspirin. Then, I asked Dr. Mooney about herbs. He said that he didn't think that there was any harm in trying but without saying as much, I don't think he had much faith in them.

That afternoon I ordered the herbs that claimed to prevent miscarriage. I had read testimonials from women that had used these herbs and went on to have happy and healthy pregnancies so I figured, why not give it a shot. Nothing else had worked. I ordered the herbs and waited for them to arrive.