The Clomid Chapter

My picture perfect dream of finding out I was pregnant just before Mother's Day (with a due date just before my 30th birthday) didn't come true. 

In fact, I had missed my period and had high flying hopes that quickly crashed at the sight of that all too familiar negative pregnancy test. 

I'm guessing that the new medication had thrown my cycle off. I'll never forget the hours I sobbed in bed that morning, feeling so broken and hopeless because even though I knew I wasn't pregnant, my period was nowhere in sight. I no longer had a way of calculating when we could try again, and this felt like a new level of defeat and loss of control. The prolonged agony of the worst PMS I've ever had didn't help either! While looking for solidarity on the infertility subreddits a while back, I learned that for many women, this is the norm for every cycle!

Of course, I got my period on Mother's Day (Really, uterus?). It sounds cruel, but it was the happiest I was to see a period come in over 2 years!

Crippling nausea, I guess another symptom from getting used to the new medication, made it easier for me to stay home some nights, but church continued to become one of the hardest places for me to be. I felt like I had to lie every time someone asked me how I was doing. I didn't know how to answer that question anymore, and I was pretty sure I didn't put on a convincing show.

When I looked around the sanctuary, it was way too easy for me to feel alone in this struggle. ALL around me were sweet hints of baby bumps and arms cradling their blessings, while I pursed my lips to keep from choking on the (overly rosy) lyrics to some of the worship songs I'd grown to hate...

"You split the sea so I can walk right through it"

Really?

"You're never gonna let, You're never gonna let me down"

Worship leaders: We're going to sing this very triggering line repetitively for 10 minutes straight!

NOPE.

*Kristin exits the sanctuary with dagger eyes*

After the failure of June 2017's cycle, I started Clomid!

I had seen countless memes about it: 

So, this is what a typical Clomid cycle looked like for me:

1. The negative test. 

It sounds simple, but it hurt every time whether I expected it or not!

Usually, I would test if my period didn't come when I thought it would. Of course, it was always negative and I would get my period almost immediately after. (Again. Really, uterus?)

Then came the part of the day where I had to stop crying long enough to call the fertility specialist and get in line for the next roller coaster ride! I learned how to move things around in my schedule to make room for all of the appointments. I have the whole schedule memorized now! 

It goes a bit like this:
Cycle day 1: Period
Cycle day 3: Bloodwork/ultrasound/start Clomid

Cycle day 3-7: Clomid
Cycle day 12: Bloodwork/ultrasound/Ovidrel shot
Cycle day 21: Progesterone bloodwork
Cycle day 28: Can I test? Oh look it's negative

Cycle day 1... repeat endlessly.

My phone call time includes ordering a prefilled syringe called Ovidrel that somehow magically triggers ovulation when I inject it into my stomach. It arrives at our doorstep in a thick cooler (it has to be kept refrigerated), which Rob finds really useful for making turtle egg incubators and seed starters. We have enough ice packs in the freezer to keep all next Summer's beach trip snacks cool. Win/win/win/win?

2. The first blood work and ultrasound appointment of the month, usually on day 3 of my cycle. 

Yay for bloody, crampy, babyless trans-vaginal ultrasounds! 

As an added bonus, I would start taking the Clomid afterward.

I used to think it was cute to take selfies every time I got bloodwork done. 

That got old after a couple of failed cycles! I still plan to use the ones I did take as leverage on our future children. ("Look what I went through to give you life?")

Cycle days 3-7: Time to pop the Clomid pills. I started on 50mg and the symptoms were mild, although I felt more like distancing myself away from people and got more easily agitated! I remember silencing all of my text notifications and retreating away from people and loud places during my first 2 cycles with it. 

The WORST cycle with Clomid (so far) was cycle 2 when they doubled the prescription to 100mg. Rob and I were on family vacation and I had so many emotional breakdowns between feeling like the infertile minority, being constantly reminded of my year-ago pregnancy and the loss that followed, and being on the highest dose of fertility drugs yet! I remember shaking so bad and feeling so anxious and irritable that I had to lie down and sleep it off throughout the week. It probably looked like I was relaxing, but I wasn't!

3. The second bloodwork and ultrasound appointment of the month, usually around cycle day 12.

We would awkwardly carry the big fat Ovidrel cooler into the office, I would give my blood, and then get an ultrasound. The doctor would count the follicles on each ovary and measure them. We want at least one of them to be at least 20x20. The Clomid helped them grow. After the first cycle with 150mg the doctors were happy with the size of my follicles, so that was the dosage I got used to.

If my follicles were mature enough, the nurse would then give me the Ovidrel "trigger shot" to trigger ovulation.

Here I am after my first trigger shot. My belly is too white to make out the band-aid on it, but it's there. Haha. I was never so happy to be such a human pin cushion! I was certain it was going to bring success right away. Isn't that funny?

Sometimes my follicles weren't ready on cycle day 12, which meant we had to come back either the next day or in 2 days for another scan before I would be ready for the trigger shot, which meant taking another day off of work unexpectantly, driving an extra the hour and a half, paying the extra co-pay, and getting and stabbed and wanded one more time for each extra visit! At one point, both of my arms were bruised from all of the bloodwork!

4.  The dreaded 2 week wait. 
This was the impressionable time where a number on a thermometer had the ability to crush my spirits or send my hopes soaring. I would take my basal body temperature upon awakening. I would be completely consumed by what I was about to see before I even opened my eyes.

5. Blood work for progesterone, usually on cycle day 21.

I believe it was during the first Progesterone blood test on Clomid when it hit me that I wasn't afraid of getting my blood taken anymore! (I've always had a bloodwork phobia.) 

We wanted my Progesterone level to be at least 10ng/ml in order for my body to be able to support a pregnancy. On my first rounds of Clomid, it was a measly 8.something, but with the 150mg rounds of Clomid, it increased to 17.something! Yay monster hormone pills!

6. The heartbreaking basal body temperature dip, usually on cycle day 26.

From what I understand, I want my basal body temperature to keep rising after ovulation because that's a sign of pregnancy. I never saw my basal body temperature do that and I always kind of knew on this day that it was going to be another failed cycle. Permelia cuddles cheered me up on those mornings where I was crying over a number on my thermometer.

7. The "but I still haven't tested!" glimmer of false hope

8. The "Should I test?" stage, usually on cycle day 28.

This was the day the specialist wanted me to call in if I missed my period, but usually, my cycles are longer. On this day I was always wondering if it's too early to test.
I'd do it anyway. It was always negative.

9. The "maybe I tested too early!" glimmer of false hope
I needed to actually get a period before I gave up all hope!

10. My scumbag period started, and I started all over again with it!

In September, the specialists recommended we consider an IUI since we hadn't been successful with just Levothyroxine, Clomid, and Ovidrel. We didn't realize that was an option for us, but I was excited at the thought! It seemed to me that sperm-meeting-egg was our trouble and that an IUI would surely get me pregnant!

We got up before the sun did for our specialist appointment, drove 2 hours to and from the only office open on Saturdays (because cycle day 12 fell on a Sunday. Ugh.), and waited for over an hour even though I had an appointment. We weren't sure if IUI was covered by our insurance, but assumed that because I was getting my scan a day earlier than usual, and that I wasn't ready to be triggered until cycle day 14 in the past, that we would have time before the trigger day to figure out if it was covered in time to ask for one that cycle. 

I got my blood work and ultrasound done and of course, my follicles were totally ready and I got my trigger shot. 

I wanted to cry because I was so hopeful about the IUI and thought that just trying our best the old fashioned way was not going to work. Once again, I had so much hope and it was taken away in a second! Rob cheered me up with this homemade meme:



I can't help but crack a smile when I see those little kitty feet tufts!


You guessed it, that cycle ended without a pregnancy.

With every cycle, it felt incredibly foolish to try and be positive. It felt stupid to believe that the next cycle could be the one that ends in a pregnancy. It felt naive to hold on to hope when life had taught me over and over again that I shouldn’t get my hopes up because things never turn out like they did in the pretty pictures I painted in my head.

I also felt an enormous amount of pressure. All of the weight of us not being able to have a baby fell on me and on my body, and no matter what strides I took, it was never ever enough.

It was exhausting to be in a continual space of grief, to try to plan everything around my unpredictable menstrual cycle, to try to pull myself together enough at the end of the week to go to church, be with people and hold a regular conversation, only to find that my heart was too broken and that nobody seems to understand, and to repeat it all month after month with the same disappointing result.

 After this failed cycle, we were off to the next adventure.