Got an email from my ob/gyn today. She wants to consult with a fertility specialist colleague of hers before starting me on Clomid. I don't know why. I feel like I've jumped through so many hoops already just desperately trying to qualify for medical intervention, and now she's telling me to just keep waiting. I'm especially grumpy about all this because my cycle started today, and I was convinced that I would start Clomid this cycle. Now, I'm stuck waiting until my body decides to have another cycle (which could be up to 60 days). I know, right? I've been waiting 15 months, what's one or two more? But it feels like an eternity, and no one else understands the urgency, leaving me to feel very much alone. The mood swings that accompany this "time of the month" are made exponentially worse for me lately by the intense disappointment that I am not pregnant. Again. I've been a complete wreck this week...yelling at B over socks on the floor, crying in the bathroom at work, and just generally walking around with a big black cloud over my head. Actually, just seeing Britney on the cover of a tabloid magazine with a supposed "baby bump" was enough to cause an emotional breakdown while standing in line at the grocery store.
One thing I'm realizing through all this is that I've definitely sold my soul to Clomid. I thought I was carefully guarding my heart from hoping too much, but if I'm honest, I've been counting on Clomid to be my miracle drug, and this delay in starting it has been devastating. I really need a reality check. We could get pregnant without Clomid, or I could take Clomid for months and still not get pregnant. And God is in control, blah, blah, blah. But it's hard to think a rational thought when you're hormonal and depressed! Thank heavens this altered state lasts only a week, and then I expect to regain my coping skills and sunny disposition. For now, I'll just take comfort in eating an entire package of purple marshmallow peeps.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment