Well, we are now headlong into our first clinic-assisted attempt. Today is day 3ish (started late on Friday) and I went, as scheduled, to see Dr B for my baseline ultrasound. Thanks to everyone’s favorite, the dildocam, we were able to get a good look at my follicles: 7 on the left and 5 on the right. The good news is that my right ovary is making eggs post-surgery (hooray!) and, thus, is viable as believed. The less-than-great news is that, for a woman of 33, I should have more than 12 follicles (should be closer to 15-20, according to Dr B). This discovery was followed by Dr B saying, “Well, the one thing you have going for you is your age.’ Oh, good. I’ll take that. I guess one thing is better than nothing. Twelve isn’t the end of the world but it does mean that, combined with the endometriosis, the likelihood of natural cycle working is pretty small. So, change of plans. Those discussing violent rhetoric in politics should spend an afternoon in the fertility clinic. There is lots of talk of ‘little guns’ and ‘BIG guns’ and being MORE aggressive! Sooner!
New recommendations by Dr B: 4 Clomid trials. If ineffective, then IVF.
I asked her three times in three different ways if she really felt like there was a reasonable chance that these trials could work. She said that there is a good enough chance that we should not go straight to IVF but that we wouldn’t try to 6 tries as one might under other circumstances. None of this was very surprising to me and I know that, in the grand scheme of things, Clomid is considered a ‘little gun.’ Still, I was a little bit dazed by how quickly everything changed in under 2 minutes. I know I am going to have to get used to that.
As I adjusted to the ‘new plan,’ I mostly just stared at Dr B’s giant pregnant belly as she told me about her maternity leave beginning next week and who would be covering her patients. I was so caught up in my thoughts that it wasn’t until she handed me a prescription and sent me to get labs that I realized this meant the ‘new plan’ started now. As in, this Clomid train is leaving the station, you better hop on…
I’m hopping! I’m hopping! I should be excited and hopeful and positive but, for right now, I’m not. I wish I wish wish that I was filled joyous optimism instead of anxiety and dread. I’m trying to remember how to get back to that place where things seem not only possible but probable. I have a week or so to get there.
I head back for my mid-cycle ultrasound on 2/2 so they can assess how I responded to the Clomid and see if an egg or two is emerging. Then, try, try again.