You may have noticed that I’ve been missing in action. Honestly, I haven’t known what to write. Mostly because I’m so darn confused myself, and felt no need to share the confusion with anyone else. You know, barring Brian, Mama, and YaYa Princess. They get to share my confusion all the time, and I occasionally give them some of their own!
This cycle was a bust. We’ll just get that right out of the way. My fertility monitor never peaked, so we never knew when my optimal time to get pregnant was. Then, the week before and the week of my anticipated ovulation were two of the most stressful weeks I’ve had with this job so far. Nothing like a screaming baby to throw you off your groove. I thought that might have delayed ovulation. Judging by my body, there was a time when I thought I had ovulated, so I was reassured. Then, the usual start of my new cycle, Cycle Day 33, came and went. And then the day that I used to start a new cycle, Cycle Day 36 came and went. In other words, I was Late. Holy cats, I was Late!
I gave it a few days and a few negative pregnancy tests, and I called the fertility gurus. I went this past Monday for an ultrasound and blood work. Dr. B said he saw a corpus luteum on my ovary, a sign that ovulation had in fact occurred. A simple blood draw would tell me my progesterone level and indicate either that I had ovulated and it was high enough to sustain a pregnancy or else that it was low enough to indicate that my period was on its way. A win-win, either way, compared to the horrible thought that I hadn’t ovulated and Clomid had betrayed me somehow. I left for home feeling reassured and excited that maybe this was Our Month.
I called the doctor’s patient messaging service every 10 minutes (I exaggerate – more like every hour) from Monday evening until Wednesday afternoon. Finally around 2 PM on Wednesday I had a message from the nurse. My progesterone level — which would need to be above 10 ng/ml to sustain a pregnancy — was 2 ng/ml. TWO! As in that number eight points below the bare minimum. As in two degrees above nothing. I was completely crushed. Nothing says “not knocked up” like a progesterone level of 2. In addition, the nurse said that I had not in fact ovulated at all. No mention of what the heck the doctor saw on my ovary if not the fabled corpus luteum. Just call us for some Provera to start your period, and then we’ll raise your dosage of Clomid. This dosage, 200 mg for five days, has worked for me faithfully since somewhere around December 2008. Now, I’ll be on 150 mg for ten days. The highest my doctor’s office can offer me. I’m not even sure what happens after that, but I’ve heard scary words like Femara and injectibles. We’re looking at a realm with which I’m not even vaguely familiar.
So what happened next? I cancelled lessons and we went out and celebrated Cinco de Mayo as only the non-pregnant, barely Spanish-speaking can. With $1.99 raspberry margaritas and enchiladas. Today I called the nurse to ask a few questions and order my drugs for next cycle. I am miserable and completely brokenhearted. See why I didn’t share this earlier?
Thank God…It’s Friday
I have a wonderful husband who holds me while I cry, takes me out for Mexican food, and understands the true depths of depression. I thank God for him every day.
Likewise, I have great friends and a wonderful mother. They did the same, minus food and libation. Thank God they’re near me.
Baby P has started to sleep about 12% more than he used to. I may survive his infant-hood yet.
We’re making good friends at our new church. Friends in similar situations who understand and encourage us.
Brian has Saturday off. Yay!
My sister-in-law, AnchorGirl, has an unspecified prayer request. Please pray as led.
My aunt and uncle need 24 hour care. Please pray that this need is filled somehow.
Have a great weekend!